Month: December 2024

Review copy provided by the publisher.

The most common reason I bounce off a book is the prose voice. That means that the most common reason I read a book all the way through that I don’t end up liking much is also the prose voice. This was a very readable book on the sentence level. I have no complaints about its prose.

On a larger scale, though…this book just didn’t go anywhere deep or interesting with its premise. It’s about a young American woman who is hit by a car in Shanghai when her parents think she’s living and working in Beijing, and about that whole family trying to figure out what’s been going on. Which they mostly don’t do. Mostly they just flail around being a mess. Friendships and relationships are severed more or less by bad luck. 

On the up side, the sex workers in the book are treated with respect as people. On the other hand, there’s not a lot of depth in that part either–and it’s a pretty large theme to tackle without having anything in particular to say about it. I can’t say this motivated me to seek out Haigh’s other books. Oh well, they can’t all etc.

Review copy provided by the publisher. The author is also a friend, which started because we share an agent.

This is a grown-up book.

There’s a lot of dark academia going around these days, but most of it is focused either on institutions of higher learning or on the student level, often both. This one is teacher-focused. The students are brilliantly done, but they are realistic about being 17 in ways that are not always flattering, that are adult-perspective rather than own-perspective. And the protagonist is not just a teacher but a teacher who has moved into administration–what we’d probably call a Vice Principal in the US, where this book is not set. A Deputy Head.

Deputy Head in charge of the magic department. In the magic department of her own former boarding school. So there’s that.

The inter-teacher relationships are also beautifully done–co-workers with history and texture–and then there’s the magic, which is revealed with the most amazing pacing, every turn a revelation, the small details so important and so well-highlighted that the moments of “ohhhh it’s THAT thing” keep coming.

This is a weird thing to praise in a public review rather than a private note, but–the chapters are so well-constructed. If you’re having a normal adult life–like our protag Saffy Walden is having!–you will be able to put this book down at the chapter breaks, more curious about what’s coming but also satisfied with how the chapter ending went. It’s just so well done in so many structural ways, and then the heart is a genuine heart. Highly recommended, pick it up as soon as you can.

Sara C. Bronin, Key to the City: How Zoning Shapes Our World. If you haven’t thought much about zoning, this is a good introductory book. I was hoping that it would be a little deeper than it was; ah well.

Agatha Christie, Third Girl and Towards Zero. Gosh, Christie did not much enjoy the Sixties! But other than the usual caveats about that crankiness and some attitudes I’d call “dated” if some people didn’t still have them alas, these were fine enough, fast reads, not outstanding, there’s a reason they’re not the famous ones.

Davinia Evans, Rebel Blade. Regular readers know how I love to say “the triumphant conclusion,” and here we are! The triumphant conclusion to this trilogy, with the magic of the mundane plane making its mess all over everyone’s life and getting mopped up as best they can! Don’t start here, you want to start with the first one, but gosh I enjoyed this series.

Isaac Fellman, Notes from a Regicide. Discussed elsewhere.

Evan Friss, The Bookshop: A History of the American Bookstore. This was also not a deep analysis but a fun wander through the history of everyone’s favorite kind of shop.

Matthew Gabriele and David M. Perry, Oathbreakers: The War of Brothers That Shattered an Empire and Made Medieval Europe. I have read a lot of books about the Carolingians, and this was the absolute best of any of them at keeping straight which Charles, which Pepin, etc. we were talking about at any given moment. The analysis is clear and cogent and it never devolves into “and then a series of events, God knows why we’re telling you this except that it appears to have happened,” which is frankly a Carolingian pitfall. This is my jam, and I think it will be the jam of many of you here as well.

Ariel Kaplan, The Republic of Salt. A sequel to The Pomegranate Gate, and you really don’t want to start with the second one, you really need the character and plot context of the first one. Very much a middle book, looking forward to where it’s going, lots of mythological ramifications here.

Robin Wall Kimmerer, The Serviceberry: Abundance and Reciprocity in the Natural World. Lavishly illustrated, extremely short, more life philosophy and less botany but still interesting.

Julie Leong, The Teller of Small Fortunes. A sweet and cozy adventure fantasy, featuring a cat and a baker as well as some more traditional adventuring party members.

L.M. Montgomery, The Blue Castle. Reread. It had been longer than I thought since I reread this, but it remains as funny and sharp and loving as always.

Garth Nix, Frogkisser!. A MG fairy tale-inspired quest fantasy that sometimes goes hard in the silly direction, but really who hasn’t had a day when we need a bit of that.

Sharon Kay Penman, Falls the Shadow and The Reckoning. Rereads. Wars and alliances and kingdoms oh my! I had basically forgotten all of these last two books and remembered the trilogy as the first book alone, so this was a lovely rediscovery of “oh right, THIS guy again.” Everybody boo for Edward Longshanks.

Lev A. C. Rosen, Rough Pages. The third in its series of mid-century queer San Francisco mysteries, and this is a perfectly reasonable place to start (although the second one is still my favorite). Its detective has to deal with the murder of the owner of a bookstore that mails queer literature not entirely legally–and has a mailing list that would name names of a lot of his community. This is not a feel-good mystery, this is a very tense mystery, which is also sometimes just what you need, but not the same times.

Arundhati Roy, The End of Imagination. Kindle. A collection of Roy’s political essays from the early 90s to the mid ’00s. This is a period in which I was definitely already politically engaged–for part of it I was reading three to four major news magazines every week as part of handling the “extemp box” for my high school speech team–and a lot of the elements of what was going on in Indian politics were completely new to me. Thanks, US media! The stuff that I already knew about was interesting to see from a different angle–and unfortunately there’s a lot of ominous foreshadowing in this collection.

Iona Datt Sharma, You Are Here: Nine More Stories. Discussed elsewhere.

Review copy provided by the author, who is an online pal and has the same agent as me.

This collection has all the stuff I like about Iona’s stories, and you should read it.

Oh, did you want more? Hmm, okay: the thing I love most about Iona’s stories is that heart and head are both fully engaged and connected to each other. This collection has fantasy and science fiction, comedy and pathos, it has different kinds and moods of each sub-genre all in nine stories. There is range here. The consistent thread is how human the concerns are and how well they are rooted in their speculative elements. Nobody is having a romance in a spaceship where the spaceship is incidental–it’s absolutely crucial to the romantic obstacle. Nobody’s relationship with their family is using portal fantasy as a backdrop, portal fantasy is illuminating the relationship with family and time. This is what short speculative fiction does best, and whether you’ve already read some of these or whether it’s all new to you, you have treats in store here. Highly recommended.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Today I was on the periphery of a conversation of books “about” queerness and books that “just happen to feature” queerness, and I need to say: this one is about queerness, it sure is, it is as about it as anything ever has been. What it is not, however, is a 101-level work about queerness. In science fiction this division often points at science fiction novels where knowledge of, for example, trans people is assumed and the trans people are allowed to have space adventures (undersea exploration, dimensions of the human heart, whatever) just like cis people, vs. novels where the author is going to do a science fiction about What If Gender: Weird Stuff, Huh.

Not in Notes from a Regicide. This is a book where it matters deeply to the main characters’ experiences that they are all trans people. It matters to the action plot, and it matters dreadfully, intensely to the main plot arc that is “young man attempts to understand the outside world forces that have shaped his parents.” It matters that their trans experiences are not all the same, both in terms of what’s available/expected from the outside world and in terms of what they want/need internally. This is very much a book that knows that there is no unitary trans experience any more than there is a unitary artist experience or a unitary revolutionary experience, and it’s a much stronger book for that.

Because yeah, some of the people who manage the most revolutionary acts do not burn with a political fervor here. Some of the things that change the world were meant to change it in other ways, or in unknown ways. The breadth and depth of human variety is stunning here, as the pieces come together, as we find out who did what and how it has mattered, small scale and large.