Book Review: A Strange and Stubborn Endurance by Foz Meadows
Sunday, July 24, 2022
Tuesday, July 12, 2022
Asya and Izaveta are twin sisters, the heirs of the queendom of Tourin. Once they reach a certain age, it will be determined which sister is meant to take the title of queen from their mother, and which will become the ancient, feared monster called the Firebird. Now, both coming into their own as young women, Asya -- who will become the Firebird -- and Izaveta -- the future queen -- are thrown into a world of ruthless politics and powerful magic, all coming to head with the murder of Asya and Izaveta's mother. Brought together once again after a long separation, Asya and Izaveta know longer recognize one another -- or themselves. But will they be able to come together again in the hopes of saving Tourin, and each other?
Anyone who has read some of the biggest fantasy books of the last few years will know that Russian folklore is in. There's the Grishaverse, of course, but also several others. This tale, inspired by the folktale "The Firebird," seemed like it might, at the very least, have some interesting takes on that old myth. I had the sinking feeling within the first few chapters that this book was not going to live up to my expectations, but -- against my better judgement -- I continued on, wanting to give it the chance to settle into itself. Frankly, I'm surprised I was able to finish it, but finish it I did.
The biggest problem with this book is the pacing. For the first 60%-70%, absolutely nothing happens in this book. You probably think I'm exaggerating. I wish I was. How so little could happen, with so much purportedly going on, baffles me still. There's several mysteries, political machinations, supposedly complex character relationships, and yet... nothing happens. We spend the majority of the first half caught up in Izaveta's and Asya's introspection, to the point of the plot suffering. While there's a lot of worldbuilding (that I would still argue is surface-level), I'm afraid that can only do so much, which brings me to the characters...
Izaveta and Asya have very separate, very defined personalities, but the problem is, we are being told rather than shown these traits. Yes, I get it: Asya is kind, insecure, and self-conscious; Izaveta is cold, manipulative, and emotionless. I can't even tell you how many times we are told about these elements of their characters, but up until the very end, I couldn't help but feel as if Asya and Izaveta are strangely shallow. The relationships they develop with their respective love interests are okay, but never really that interesting. Also, there's a lot of discussions and apparent issues with the relationship beween Izaveta and Asya, but really, they actually don't interact all that much, and never seem to get to the heart of the issues between them.
Now, with all of this being said... I didn't hate this book. It certainly disappointed me, but regardless, I think at some point, I will pick up the sequel (these books are a duology). I do want to see what happens to Asya and Izaveta, mainly because the last act did make me start to care for them. The ending was similarly disappointing, feeling rushed and cobbled together, but I do find myself intrigued enough to wonder where their journey will end up taking them. The writing is not bad; it's sometimes repetitive, but that's really my only criticism. I'm hoping that the second book will show improvement in plotting and characterization, and will be able to live up to the promise of this concept and series.
While I wouldn't say I recommend this, I would say that there's potential, and I think many people will (and do) love these books. If the plotting, pacing, and character issues could be resolved, I actually think this would be a strong starter.
Friday, July 8, 2022
Tuesday, July 5, 2022
Sarah Bernhardt is someone I have known of for a long time. I've always admired her ambition, her bravery, and above all, the way that she stood up for herself and others. Despite the fact that she had quite the reputation for a temper, it's obvious now that she was fighting constantly against the odds -- she was a Jewish woman in a profession that, at the time, was considered improper. I think that this novel captures her spirit, and gives her a fresh voice in a generation that is no longer familiar with her or her accomplishments.
Gortner's prose immediately caught me. It's vivid, rather lush, with a dry humor that suits Sarah perfectly. It's crushing to read the neglect and abuse she experiences at the hands of her mother, the relationship she craves with an absent father, and the many obstacles she's forced to overcome even as a young girl. Sarah is written with complexity, and it's the duality of her character that makes her come to life with such clarity. Gortner does an excellent job of making her likable without ever sacrificing her occasionally difficult personality.
I loved reading about Sarah's life behind-the-scenes, and I also longed to be there in the wings, watching her perform. Despite the fact that this is a book, Gortner makes you feel as if you are there, listening to her so-called "golden voice," watching her rend the hearts of her audience. It's moving to go through her life as she fights not only for her own future, but for the future of acting as we now know it.
I did expect there to be a portion that detailed her first and only marriage, and so I was a bit surprised that Gortner skipped over it. At first, I was a bit confused as to why, when he so fastidiously covers the rest of her life, but by the end, I actually found that it made sense. This, ultimately, is Sarah's story, and I liked that after seeing her struggle for so long, it is her eventual triumph that Gortner focuses on.
Highly recommended!