⋆⋆⋆

Thank you to NetGalley and Berkley for allowing me to read this ARC!

Content Warning: death, murder, violence, sexual harassment, animal death.

Marion Shaw has grown up on the streets of Prane, forced to learn how to thieve and manipulate for survival. Now, as a grown woman, she lives a life of drudgery, working as a housemaid. Secretly, she aspires for something better, a world outside of the poverty and deprivation that is the cornerstone of her life. This time, when she sees the advertisement for a Bloodmaid in the papers, she decides that the luxury they promise will be hers -- and, in a shocking turn of events, she is picked to go and live in the House of Hunger, one of the great, blood-drinking houses of the North. But when Marion arrives, she quickly learns that not all is as it seems -- and that the price of being a Bloodmaid is far higher than she ever could've imagined.

The beautiful cover and interesting, rather unique premise drew me towards this book. Gothic is certainly having its revival, which I'm quite excited about, and I was secretly hoping that this book would be a twist on sapphic horror/love stories like Carmilla, or the wonderful reimagining of Erzsébet Báthory and her lover's life in Borowczyk's Immoral Tales (the standout of the film, which perfectly mixes eroticism and death). This, too, is based off the legends around Báthory's purported love of blood and torture of her female servants, but as it turns out, House of Hunger never quite reaches the full potential it's capable of, even with such fascinating figures as Báthory being inspiration.

Admirably, though, Henderson is never short on ideas, and if anything, this book is unique. I've never read anything quite like it before, and I sincerely doubt that I will in the future, either. It was a surprise to me that this was actually secondary fantasy; when I picked it up, I assumed it would be taking place in our own world, not in one of Henderson's creation. Some people felt that this bold move didn't pay off, but for me, I rather liked it. It doesn't always feel fully fleshed out, but all in all, I think that Henderson does a pretty good job making her world captivating.

The protagonist, Marion, is one of the reasons this didn't manage to rise above three stars for me. As the novel progresses, it seems as if Marion doesn't grow as a character, and in some ways, her emotions and her personality remain static over the entirety of her journey. There was a lack of depth that left me feeling a bit confused -- and I had this same problem with all of the side characters, as well as Marion's mistress/lover, Lisavet. In the very first scene with Lisavet, I had an inkling of what Henderson could've achieved with her character. She came off as complex, dark, a little strange. But once again, the same problem arises: everything feels slightly shallow. 

I think the length of House of Hunger is one of its faults, and, in fact, one of the reasons why everything feels as if it's lacking a certain depth. I rarely ever say this, but it was simply too short. For everything that Marion goes through, there was not enough time for any of it to feel realistic. She falls in love, out of love, she apparently strikes up this deep rapport with her fellow bloodmaids... and yet I couldn't bring myself to really believe any of it. Everything happens way, way too fast, and the times she actually interacts with Lisavet in any meaningful way, on page, are few and far between. The plot, too, is rushed, and many things don't make sense (some of which I cannot mention without spoiling the entire thing).

Overall, while I did enjoy the journey, and some of the storytelling was lovely, the entire experience of reading House of Hunger just felt average. Some of Henderson's writing is truly beautiful, but there were so many amateur mistakes that left me thinking this was actually her debut, another problem that perhaps prevented me from "clicking" with this book. 

Although I didn't love this, I think so many people will. I love its darkness, the way it lets its female characters be ugly and vulgar and mean and petty, and Henderson's way of looking at her characters as complex regardless of their acts of villainy.

Recommended if you love Gothics, female characters who are allowed the full spectrum of emotion (the good, the bad, and the ugly), and dark fantasy. 

Book Review: Because I Could Not Stop for Death by Amanda Flower

 

⋆⋆

Thank you to NetGalley and Berkley Publishing for allowing me to read this ARC!

Content Warning: death, murder, violence, animal cruelty, racism, misogyny.

Willa Noble is over the moon when she's employed as a housemaid by the Dickinsons. It isn't by chance that she is hired, however: it's Emily Dickinson herself who instructs the head maid to take Willa on. Not much time has passed when tragedy strikes, and Willa's brother, Henry, is killed in what the police are calling an accident. Emily and Willa suspect that something else is afoot, however, and with the help of her eccentric employer, Willa is determined to find out who killed her brother -- at any cost.

What is it about Emily Dickinson that still fascinates us to this day? Her rich, private inner life? The way she still remains somewhat shrouded in mystery, even after all this time? We are always looking for a glimpse into her world, however small. When I picked up Because I Could Not Stop for Death, that's what I was hoping for, in spite of the fact that it takes place from the point of view of her maid -- an insight into Emily's secretive world. Disappointingly enough, though, we never quite get that chance.

To start with, all of the characters in this book are, sadly, strangely shallow. Many of them feel like caricatures, and despite the fact that Flower attempts to add depth to them through stories of their backgrounds, it does little to enrich them or add to their personalities. Willa, our main character, suffers from this same problem too -- although we're seeing everything happening through her eyes, all of her thoughts and observations feel rudimentary. Even now, I'm not exactly sure what I'd list as her character traits. Emily, Willa's brother, the rest of the Dickinson family, and, essentially, every character in these pages has a dearth of charisma.

The plot and mystery itself are basic, never able to rise above the average, everyday mystery you might pick up. The historical setting is certainly well-researched, but the stilted dialogue doesn't transport you to the era, but instead makes it feel as if everyone is clunky and awkward. Emily's dialogue suffers the most from this, probably because there are attempts at capturing her unique way of writing through her voice, but it just doesn't work. Willa and Emily claim to be investigating the death of Willa's brother, but the steps they take to do this are basic, never really fleshed-out. The "investigation" doesn't really yield any interesting clues or hints that help the reader to make their own assumptions.

Ultimately, this book just doesn't succeed in what it sets out to do. The questions raised here, about class and race, are good, but as with the rest, underdeveloped and overstated. The writing is so blunt, so set on making sure you're understanding what's going on, that it seems to imply the reader is too stupid to figure it out. 

Not for me, but I'm sure there are many people out there who will enjoy the historical setting and time period, which Flower pulls off pretty well!

Book Review: Bone Weaver by Aden Polydoros

 

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Thank you to NetGalley and Inkyard Press for allowing me to read this ARC!

Content Warning: death (including that of a child), murder, violence, racism, religious persecution, misogyny.

Seventeen-year-old Toma lives in the wilderness of the vast Kosa empire. Although the empire is turning in on itself, in the midst of a deadly revolution, Toma is unaware of the political tensions and ongoing civil war, having not been amongst other humans in years. Suddenly, the unrest is brought to Toma and her adoptive upyri family's doorstep with the crashing of an airship, holding only two passengers -- and one of them is Tsar Mikhail himself. Forced by disaster into a mission of her own, Toma accompanies Mikhail on his journey to destroy Koschei, the leader of the anti-Tsarist revolutionaries, picking up another straggler, Vanya, on their way. As the trio grows closer, Toma will be forced to confront her past and, even more frighteningly, her future -- and all three of them will learn that true monsters don't wear their wickedness on the outside.

Finally, a book from my list of most highly anticipated 2022 reads that didn't disappoint! Bone Weaver is everything I could ask for in a Russian and Slavic inspired fantasy, replete with folklore and monsters, all while addressing the proletariat revolution and the faults of its fantasy empire.

To start off, this book is simply full of monsters. Something that often bothers me when I pick up a fantasy book is that while it proclaims to have pages full of monsters and folklore, they seem little more than window-dressing. That's never the case in Bone Weaver: there are rusalki, mavki, upyri, and more, all written about with an admiration for their haunting, sometimes frightening, beauty. It's obvious from the first page that Polydoros loves writing about these creatures, and although this obviously deals with much more mature subject matter, it reminded me a bit of reading The Spiderwick Chronicles -- and what more could I ask for then that?

As for the characters, all of them are lovable, even when they are not nice or friendly or on their best behavior. Toma, of course, is my favorite, and she operates as the kind of heroine that is naive but not obnoxious (which is hard to do; instead, her naivete feels endearing). Her companions, Mikhail and Vanya, are equally wonderful, although I will say that it took me a while to warm up to Mikhail. Perhaps it's because I'm a bit biased, but I wasn't sure that I would buy into his rehabilitation, into the narrative that he will truly fight for change in his empire. By the end, however, I greatly enjoyed Mikhail's character, and even ended up rooting for him (which took me by surprise). He still wasn't quite on the level of Toma or Vanya for me, but nonetheless, I think that Polydoros did an incredible job crafting every single character we encounter on the page. 

The worldbuilding has real depth to it. One of my favorite things in fantasy books is that feeling you get that, just beyond the page, there's a whole world out there -- real and fully fleshed out -- that we've yet to see. I never, ever say this, but I almost wish that Bone Weaver had been the first in a series. It feels as if there's so much more to explore, even with regards to Toma's background, for example, or Vanya's. My only real complaint about this book is that it simplifies the revolution, and in turn, simplifies its (amazing) villain. However, this is YA fantasy, so I don't mind it being boiled down to basics -- and that isn't to say that there isn't complexity or nuance in this book because there's plenty. 

Highly, highly recommended. This is, without a doubt, the best Russian and Slavic inspired fantasy I've ever had the pleasure of reading. 

Book Review: Our Lady of the Nile by Scholastique Mukasonga

 

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Content Warning: death (including in childbirth), violence, murder, racism, misogyny, genocide, rape, pedophilia, grooming, racial slurs.

At the Belgian Catholic school Notre-Dame du Nil, they are meant to be raising up "Rwanda's Female Elite." These young women are in the middle not only of discovering themselves, but also of discovering what exactly Rwanda's revolution means for them. The only two Tutsi girls at the school, Veronica and Virginia, are particularly afraid of the lessons they'll be forced to learn -- and of what it means to be a "true Rwandan," as they struggle to come to terms with the ethnic hatred and tension building between the Hutu and Tutsi peoples. 

Considered a modern classic, Our Lady of the Nile is a bit hard to summarize -- part coming-of-age, part analysis of colonization, genocide and misogyny, it deals with many heavy topics, often with a hint of dark humor. There's a satirical element to Mukasonga's clever, on the nose writing style, but unlike some books I've read that use levity when discussing serious matters, it never cheapens the horror of what's happening in these early days of the Rwandan genocide. 

All of the girls have their own unique personalities, although the piece's villain, Gloriosa, perhaps suffers a bit from being rather shallow. I don't list this as a criticism, however; Gloriosa, with her belligerent, blind hatred of all Tutsi, serves as a mouthpiece for the violent beliefs of the Hutu who are intent on wiping out every trace of Tutsi from the nation. Each chapter provides an insight into one of the girls' inner lives, but Veronica and Virginia operate as the heart of the story, providing us with an opportunity to see what it's like to live in a world that is set against your very existence.

Mukasonga's ruthless examination of Rwanda's colonization stands out brilliantly, even amongst the many other issues tackled here -- in fact, she does an excellent job of showing just how colonization has not only inflamed the problems between the Hutu majority and Tutsi minority, but also how it has been encouraged by Rwanda's white intruders.

Although I'm a white American, Mukasonga transports you into the world of these young women, and allows you to get an inside look on Rwanda's genocide, its politics, and its cultural innerworkings. The only reason I have not given this novel a full five stars is that the language is, every once in a while, a bit strange; perhaps this is merely an error of translation but, nonetheless, it sometimes kept me from feeling fully engaged. The girls' individual narratives could also have benefited from being a touch more personal; I think that an insight into their lives away from the lycée would've added great depth.

All in all, highly recommended. Touching, sometimes funny, with an ending that will leave you thinking.

Book Review: Babysitter by Joyce Carol Oates

 

⋆⋆⋆½

Thank you to NetGalley and Knopf for allowing me to read this ARC!

Content Warning: death (including that of a child), murder, violence, rape (on-page), homophobia, racism, racist slurs, homophobic slurs, victim-blaming, suicidal ideation, child abuse (physical, emotional and sexual).

Detroit, 1977. Hannah Jarrett lives a privileged life; the wife of a wealthy man, the mother of two perfect children, the co-chair of many esteemed fundraisers and charity events. In the midst of her outwardly perfect -- if boring -- life, Hannah suddenly and unexpectedly meets a man who she is instantly drawn to. Calling himself only Y.K., Hannah falls headfirst into an affair that will change the course of her life forever. In another part of Detroit, there's Mikey, connected not only to Y.K., but to Babysitter, the child killer stalking the streets. As Hannah grows more and more suspicious of Y.K., questioning whether he is implicated in the Babysitter killings, everyone -- including Hannah's children and her husband -- will be drawn into the turmoil...

Joyce Carol Oates is adept at crafting stories centered around darkness. Of the several other books I've read by her, they were all similarly filled with themes of lust, hatred, and murder, and while some of them were more successful than others, I knew going into Babysitter that this type of tale was in good hands. Her stories often play with subversion, subterfuge, and nontraditional forms of writing, and so those who are not familiar with her style may find it a bit strange at first -- even I, having not read anything by her in a while, found it a bit jarring at first. However, the longer I read, the more compulsively I found myself consuming this, eager to know what frightening turn the plot might take.

Hannah Jarrett is our (main) protagonist; I would describe her as being squarely in the middle of the events that take place here, as well as the characters who surround her. She, both narratively and as a character, provides a sort of stepping stone, an opportunity for the reader to see themselves in the story. However, like most of Oates's protagonists, she is not likable on principle; she is complex, deeply flawed, and very, very naïve. I appreciated Oates's efforts to show us that while Hannah thinks of herself as being "rational" and "nonracist," she nonetheless continuously insults her children's Filipina nanny, Ismelda, with microaggressions. She projects her insecurities and fears onto Ismelda, the "other," just like her husband, Wes, does, though his is more outwardly aggressive, more "male."

Racism is a big theme in this book, as is fitting, I think, for a novel that takes place in 1970s' Detroit. Present, too, as in all of Oates's novels, are the questions of womanhood, femininity, and how motherhood changes women (for better and worse). Some of her attempts at dissecting racism are better than others but, overall, I think the message here is well-conveyed -- that racism is insidious in its many forms, and that white women perpetuate racism in ways different than their male counterparts (but that all are equally reprehensible). Her discussions of misogyny are incisive and clever, as always.

Now, onto why it didn't quite get the full four stars from me... my main complaint is that, sometimes, I struggled to truly "click" with the story or its characters. Mistakenly, I thought that this novel would revolve mainly around the Babysitter killer, also known as the Oakland County Child Killer, who I do have some prior knowledge of. Instead, this deals mostly with people who are connected to him, both tangentially and more closely, which I found a touch disappointing. The child killings serve more as a backdrop for what's going on in Hannah's life, as well as exacerbating her already heightened fears as a mother. It's important that I mention that while this book does deal with many dark, horrible things, sometimes in graphic detail, I never felt as if Oates was exploiting the real life tragedies that Babysitter committed. 

I didn't like Hannah, per se; she's gullible, a bit spineless, not to mention her strange racist assumptions about Ismelda. However, I see the purpose of her story, and I do enjoy the fact that Oates doesn't worry so much about how "relatable" or "likable" her characters are. The story also feels disjointed, sometimes confusing; while this does work well in some aspects, in others, it fails to achieve its intentions. For example, the ending -- I'm still confused about what exactly it was meant to signify, even how much of it is "real." That might work for some readers, but in my case, it left me feeling a bit let down after the rather arduous journey I took to get there. 

Ultimately, I think Babysitter succeeds in many of its efforts, but as a whole, it felt like a jigsaw puzzle missing a few pieces. I'd recommend this to Oates's fans, and to anyone who might have a fascination with true crime like I do. 

Book Review: The Oleander Sword by Tasha Suri

 

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Thank you to NetGalley and Orbit for allowing me to read this ARC!

Content Warning: death, violence, murder, emotional abuse, misogyny, body horror,

After the prophecy that has named her the rightful Empress of Parijatdvipa, Malini is well on her way to deposing her cruel brother. Although she anticipates being defied at every turn, her newly-appointed status as a ruler chosen by the gods has left her more open than ever to criticism and hardship. Meanwhile, Ahiranya has finally found its freedom from imperial oppression, and Priya has risen fully to her position as an Elder. The magic that flows through her body, however, is changing -- and Priya is no longer sure if she knows what she's capable of. As the war rages on, Malini realizes that she needs Priya -- her secret weapon -- and against all odds, they find themselves together once more... but will their reunion end in happiness, or destruction?

I don't read many series these days, but after I finished The Jasmine Throne, I was so happy to find out that it was going to be a trilogy. Not only did I instantly fall in love with our two heroines, Priya and Malini, but I was also captivated by the magic system and the gorgeous world Suri has created. So, does the sequel live up to the amazing potential captured in the first book?

In my opinion, yes. We are once again following Malini and Priya, as well as several other characters introduced in the first book (including Bhumika, who I simply adore), and it felt like coming home to jump into their shoes again. Now, they're contending with even bigger problems than they were before, Priya with her new role as an Elder (a role that she isn't quite sure how to embrace) and Malini with keeping the faith she's engendered in her new followers. This book is much bigger than just Malini and Priya, though, and I felt like there was more of a focus on what's happening outside of them this time around.

The Jasmine Throne got some criticism for its many POVs, and, if anything, I did feel that this problem is not fixed -- if anything, it felt as if there were even more perspectives and characters to contend with. For me, it's not a problem, but I think that some people will struggle with it. There were moments where I wondered why, exactly, we were getting a certain character's perspective, or following a particular storyline, as it seemed to add nothing overall to either the plot or pacing. I'm also confused as to why, instead of allowing us to enter into the head of Varsha, Chandra's new wife, we are given the POV of her brother. I think it would have been more interesting (and fitting) to let us see the world and her marriage through her eyes.

Those are my main complaints; otherwise, I was just as enchanted by this entry into the series as the first. The moments between Malini and Priya were beautiful, and truly made the novel shine. I also love Bhumika, and you really get the chance to fall for her in this book. 

While it wasn't perfect (like I thought The Jasmine Throne was), this is a solid second book, and I'm excited (and scared!) for the final installment. 

Book Review: Set in Stone by Stela Brinzeanu

 

⋆⋆⋆

Thank you to NetGalley and Legend Press for allowing me to read this ARC!

Content Warning: death, violence, murder, rape (on-page), homophobia, misogyny, victim-blaming, outdated racial terms, racism, drowning, incest.

In medieval Moldova, Elina and Mira live totally separate lives. Elina is the wealthy daughter of a boyar, the aristocratic class that employ serfs and slaves, while Mira is a simple potter's daughter, used to going without a meal and trying to fight off the cold. But when the two are inadvertently brought together, there's an immediate spark between them, and they begin to realize that, as women, their stations in life might not be so different after all. As they come to terms with their feelings for one another, Mira and Elina both will have to make the ultimate sacrifice to achieve freedom -- and the possibility of spending their lives together.

Doesn't the premise for this book sound so great? Medieval Moldova is not a time nor place I've ever seen in another book, and it's a culture I'm not overly familiar with. Even more fascinating, the central relationship is between two women, and Set in Stone tackles many issues (some which we are, sadly, still facing today) over the course of Mira and Elina's journey. It saddens me to say I'm not able to give more than three stars here, though. For me, there were too many problems to bump this up to a full four stars. With that being said, let's delve into what worked for me, and what didn't. 

Firstly, Brinzeanu's writing style didn't click for me. It was a little too dry for my tastes, and when it wasn't, the similes felt strangely overwrought. There was more telling than showing, which grew a bit irritating over time. I wanted to actually feel as if I was experiencing the scenes, instead of being told of it secondhand. This problem persists throughout the novel, although I will say that the longer I read, the more acclimated to the style I became. 

Sadly, the characterization also struck me as a touch shallow. While I ended up loving both Elina and Mira, it took quite a while for it to actually feel as if you're seeing the events and emotions through their eyes. I also found the abrupt beginning to their relationship not only strangely paced, but I struggled with whether or not it made sense for young women of this time period and place. Personally speaking, I'm a huge fan of slow-burns, and I think there was more than enough time to work up to their relationship, and deepen it in the process.

That being said, I did root for both of them, separately and together, and this book offers a beautiful (and harrowing) insight into Moldavian culture, religion, class, and, of course, the lives of Moldavian women. There are some beautiful moments, suffused with nature magic and the tenderness of love, but once again, the writing style kept you at such a distance that it was sometimes hard to admire them fully. 

One of my other issues concerns a (very one-dimensional) side character, Dafina. Dafina is a Romani slave, and in the brief instances where she interacts with Elina, she comes off as stereotypically "mysterious," reading palms and telling fortunes. Had she been more developed, it might've not been an issue, but otherwise, she serves little narrative purpose -- well, she does serve a purpose, but it would be a huge spoiler to say how. Let's just say that the purpose is to further Elina's journey, and otherwise, Dafina is just a walking stereotype, there to make cryptic comments and save Elina's hide. The slur commonly used against Romani people is also frequently found in this book. As I'm not Romani myself, I can't say whether or not this is offensive in its historical usage (considering Set in Stone takes place in the Middle Ages). I would love some input on this; all I'll say for now is be forewarned, and it did make me uncomfortable when I was reading it.

Overall, I did like Set in Stone, but nothing about it blew me away. I'm not sure it's the kind of book that will stick with me for very long. If you're interested in the culture and the time period, I'd definitely say give it a shot, but as it stands, for me, this felt more like reading a screenplay. I will consider picking up whatever Brinzeanu writes next, however, as I imagine her second novel will improve upon the issues I've mentioned here!