I was fortunate to receive an ARC of Thanatos, and am pleased to provide this review.
I previously reviewed the first book of this set, Inkarna, and am happy to say that, any of the ways in which I found Inkarna falling short have been remedied with Thanatos. The pacing is much more even and the plot feels tighter. While there’s still mystery and uncertainty, we’re not struggling along with Ashton in the same way we were before, while he came to terms with his new identity and what had happened. I will say that reading Inkarna prior to Thanatos is very important; Dorman’s solid worldbuilding in Inkarna is what allows Thanatos to progress smoothly and at a deftly controlled pace.
In this second installment Ash finds himself caught between rival Houses, and facing monumental, sobering decisions. He struggles to balance doing the right thing with the necessary thing, and his struggles, seen through the first-person present tense, are immediate and keenly gut-wrenching. He struggles with loyalty to his mission, while giving in could free him from the weight he’s under. He struggles with his identity as a husband, a father, an Inkarna, and the last remaining member of his House. While much of the previous novel has him comparing the form of Ashton Kennedy to the prior incarnation, Lizzie Perry, we get to see him settle into life as Ashton and some of the sensibilities of Lizzie fade.
Another fantastic touch to this novel is the inter-House politics that we get to see. We see more of the structure of the Inkarna, more of the rituals, more of the ethereal part of their reality as Ash settles into this incarnation. Seeing houses maneuver within and between one another adds an interesting layer to Ashton’s story and builds even more on the worldbuilding set up with the first novel.
The pacing was handled very nicely: a page turner indeed, with all the pieces falling nicely into place, and yet not handed to the reader in a neat, easy package. Thanatos keeps us wondering what’s really going on, how the houses are behaving, and how Ash is caught in the middle of it all.
Having the background knowledge from Inkarna allowed me to relax and really enjoy Thanatos and Ashton’s journey through the material world, and the ethereal one. Filled with fascinating use of Egyptian myth, and centering around a plot that could change the world, I thoroughly enjoyed joining Ash on this adventure. This was a more than worthy follow-up to Inkarna.
Keyflame was an immensely enjoyable read that not just hit a lot of points I like, but also handled typical tropes in very original and satisfying ways. I really enjoyed how nothing was quite what it seemed: from protagonist Lilah, to mysterious Kalin, and even idyllic college town Grahamstown itself. Lucy deftly handles her characters, setting, and plot twists, showcasing her storytelling skill with each development. Just when I thought I had one plot figured out, she neatly twisted it in another direction; I didn’t feel disappointed or taken for a ride, though–all I could think was, “Well, of COURSE that’s how it had to happen!”
Full of colorful characters, sneaky twists, and magical turns, Keyflame is a winner. The first person narration works very well, and Lilah’s realization that things aren’t what they seem is handled really well, as is her development and growth. The romance is handled nicely, and scenes of a certain nature tastefully fade to black. As a US reader, I found the descriptions of South Africa wonderful, and the Afrikaans phrases sprinkled in added immensely to this setting (a helpful glossary is included at the end). Some parallel-world fantasy novels seem like they could just be lifted up and set mostly anywhere; but Keyflame couldn’t really take place anywhere else and still have the same heart.
Keyflame will be well worth your time and attention!
As usual I’m late to the party on a few things. In this case, audiobooks, and the Grishaverse. I have several friends who are fans of both, and in my quest to work with my mental issues rather than against them, I decided to try Audible. Because I got a free book to start, and I have friends who’ve spoken highly of this, and Netflix is coming out with a production of it next month, I decided to give Shadow and Bone a try. As you can see from the photo above, I’m pretty much at the midpoint as of yesterday, so I thought I’d pause and made some predictions, as well as jot down some thoughts, and then see how close I was at the end. There will probably be some spoilers, so… warning, etc.
Thoughts:
The world is interesting, and the explanation of magic, or “the small science” is nicely fleshed out. That was something I struggled with in my writing, was the theory behind it.
I’m probably not supposed to like The Darkling, but I do. Also, constantly hearing “The Darkling” reminds me of Darkling I Listen, a musical setting of part of Keats’s Ode to a Nightingale, by Ben Moore. I might have to ask to work on that again in my next voice lesson.
Noticing a lot of YA fantasy tropes: special magical training compound, with the students separated by color of their robes (which in this case denote abilities). Lonely protagonist doesn’t fit in, though everyone expects great things from them. There is a rival who is jealous of them. That rival injures the protagonist, who spends the night in the infirmary, where the plot thickens.
The narrator is pretty good! I’ve heard from friends that a bad narrator can ruin the audiobook experience, so I’m pleased with this rendition.
I love Genya.
The book kicked off with the shadow part of things, and now I’m learning about the bone part of it, so at least it makes sense to me now.
Predictions (here there be spoilers!)
Alina only accesses her power on her own when she feels that Mal has turned his back on her. Once she thinks he doesn’t need her or care about her, she realizes she doesn’t have to hold it at bay any longer. I think someone, The Darkling probably, has ordered her letters to Mal destroyed or whatever, so she can let go of that one attachment holding her back.
She’s going to feel betrayed and leave, only to find Mal who’ll be like, “You never wrote, why did you turn your back on me?” and she’ll be like, “I didn’t!” and they’ll team up again.
The Darkling is more ambitious/greedy than he’ll let on. I think Alina’s going to leave, and he’ll do whatever he can to get her back. He wants to use her to his own ends. He did initially want her kefta to be black, like his. I shouldn’t cheer for him. I think I’m supposed to be drawn in by how enigmatic he is and then feel just as betrayed as Alina will. I want him to be complex, and not just pretending to be enigmatic to hide how manipulative he is. Again, just a prediction. I hope to be proven wrong at the end.
So that’s where I’m at so far, at the midpoint of Shadow and Bone. It’s interesting and enjoyable, and I think it’s going to make a really gorgeous visual adaptation on Netflix, between the settings and the costumes. I’ve heard the Crows duology is quite good (as a story and as a fully cast audiobook), and some like it even better than the trilogy, so I’ll be looking forward to reading those (plus, heist narrative full of shady characters and double crosses? I’m so in.).
I have a lot of driving coming up this week and in the upcoming weekend, so I’m sure I’ll finish this one. I’ll be interested to see how close my predictions were!
After finishing A Study of Ash and Smoke, I NEEDED more of the characters and intrigue that make up Horak’s Fall of the Mantle series. A Trial of Sparks and Kindling doesn’t disappoint, starting off with intrigue and secrets that set a demanding yet deftly handled pace. While there are several perspectives and plots at play, Horak deftly weaves them together. Not a word is wasted nor a character mishandled. Secrets and lies whisper in darkened corners and each character must strive to discover their own truth: who they are, what they want, who they will be. Alliances are fragile, friendships are tested. Allies become friends, and some become chosen family. And underneath all of this are themes of trust, of love, of forgiveness and regret. Each plotline and each character plays skillfully off of all the others.
Horak has created a rich world filled with visceral descriptions of the stark realities of war and plague, and populated it with a vast cast of unique characters each looking for their place in that world. Watching them grow, change, and become closer… and in some cases farther apart by their choices, is a breathless journey that brings smiles and tears, and sparks an intense desire to learn more, to read more. Overall, an excellent read!
I’ve read a lot of books in my life. I’ve had to–I was an English major, an English teacher, and now I’m an adjunct professor. Plus, I just enjoy reading! Of course there are a lot of books I haven’t read, which isn’t surprising; but there are some books I haven’t read that surprise people, given my background. “What do you mean, you’ve never read The Great Gatsby?” they ask in shock. I just… never had to. It was never on the syllabi for any classes I took, and I never taught it. Maybe I’ll give it a go next year, the whole 2020 thing and all. But another such book is Little Women.
This one tended to surprise people; I’m also a New Englander born and raised not far from the heart of early American literature and the cradle of Transcendentalism. “J, you’d love Jo!” they told me. “It’s so good! Didn’t you at least see the movie?” I didn’t doubt it, and no, I hadn’t. And I hadn’t given it much thought until a series of events that may or may not involve Timothee Chalamet *ahem* led me to decide to read it this year.
Columbia/Sony
With the official trailer dropping yesterday, it got me thinking about my experiences reading the book earlier this year. I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would, and maybe not for the reasons I would have if I’d read it when I was younger. I was closing in on 40 when I read it for the first time, and I’m actually glad I hadn’t read it before then!
My experiences have shaped me; the people I’ve known, the things I’ve done, the choices I’ve made, all have molded me into who I am now. If I’d approached Little Women when I was younger, I wouldn’t have appreciated the different characters the way did this time. I went into the book expecting to like Jo: stubborn, willful, determined, a writer who doesn’t like to be told what to do. She reminded me of me; my very first library day as a child, some little girl told me I couldn’t take out a book about dinosaurs, because “those are boy books”. I took out that book, and every other dinosaur book I could find every library day thereafter–mostly out of interest, and partly out of spite.
But the more I read of the other sisters, I saw other parts of myself. While I initially viewed Meg as the responsible and dutiful eldest sister, trying to set a good example and sometimes quashing Jo’s free spirit, I realized that yes, she’s the eldest. She has a natural sense of duty, but that’s tempered by her occasional dreams of finer things that lead her to sometimes make poor choices. She’s able to grow from those times. Also, I saw a lot of myself in Meg’s struggles as a wife and new mother. She wants to do right by her husband and make a cozy home, but she still struggles and gets overwhelmed. She loves her family and the life she’s made, but she still gets tired and struggles. I mean, she ended up with twins, so yeah–I struggle with my one (who has the energy of two!). I don’t think I’d have appreciated Meg’s story arc had I read it earlier in my life.
While I definitely identified with Meg and Jo, I didn’t think I would identify with Amy at all; she’s young, and I spent a lot of the early part of the book more annoyed with her and reading her arcs quickly so I could move back to Jo and Meg. However, overall I appreciated her growth the most; I think she shows the most out of them, though I would say that’s because she starts off so much younger and has a lot of room for it, while Meg and Jo are older and working and pretty set in what they want out of life. When I think back on reading Amy’s storyline, it’s more than just her growth and maturation that makes her character great: it’s the fact that she doesn’t settle. She tries, because she thinks it’s what she should do, but realizes that she wants more, from then on doesn’t settle.
Which of course brings me to Laurie. Laurie holds his own really well with the sisters, and they each have a unique relationship with him. He needled Meg like a younger brother, and appreciated Beth’s gentle ways. And of course there’s his ill-fated love for Jo, and initially, I was upset when she turned him down. They were perfect for each other! Both intelligent, energetic, headstrong… and then because they were so much alike it made sense that it would never work out. Which was why I was pleasantly surprised to find myself rooting for Laurie and Amy! Amy won’t settle; Laurie is prone to a good fit of pique every so often, and she’s quick to call him out on it. I think because she always saw Laurie as ending up with Jo, she felt she had nothing to lose by being honest with him. And because he hadn’t ever considered her romantically, he had no pretenses around Amy. As a result, their relationship builds organically, and it becomes a really lovely partnership. His proposal in the boat, where they agree to row through life together, was simple and beautiful, and it makes for a great metaphor for their relationship.
Columbia/Sony
What strikes me the most about the sisters and the way Alcott writes about them is that they each have a unique pathway and make their own choices, and Alcott doesn’t promote one over the other. Jo’s headstrong determination to become published isn’t any worthier than Meg’s desire to marry and start a family. Amy’s ambitions as an artist aren’t silly, and Beth’s generosity and compassion and empathy are strengths; she’s not a martyr or a tragic figure or cautionary tale–she’s Beth, who loves everyone and wants to help. No one sister is any better than the other, and all choices suit them all just right. In the trailer Meg tells Jo, “Just because my dreams are different than yours doesn’t mean they’re unimportant.” I feel like that’s the overall theme of Little Women: everyone has different dreams, and those differences don’t invalidate the dreams.
I don’t think I’d have appreciated this as much as I do now, if I’d read the book or seen the movie when I was younger. I think I’d have focused so much on Jo, because, at that age, that’s who I was. And before that, maybe I’d have seen more to identify with in Amy. And now, I see both, but also Meg, and even Marmee. Marmee is #goals–she doesn’t judge, she knows when to stand back and let her daughters figure it out, but when to step forward and let them know she’s still there for them. And I don’t think I’d have seen that about Marmee without being older and a parent myself, figuring out when to back off and let the Smol Human explore and experiment, and when to swoop in and make it all better.
I learned a lot from Little Women. I’m glad I finally read it, but glad it took me so long. Perhaps this fall I’ll take a trip down to the Alcott House; I’ll definitely be seeing the movie (with box of tissues in hand) over the holidays, and who knows: maybe eventually I’ll read Alcott’s other works. I do know that the March sisters and their lessons won’t be leaving me any time soon, and for that, I’m glad.
I feel like everyone has a thing that draws them into a book. Some people really enjoy the found family trope, or a particular character. Recently author Yolandie Horak wrote a great post about her favorite trope, the Lovable Rogue. Lately I’ve been reading a duology, and between that, and my own work, have come to realize that my trope? My thing? is Academia.
I’ve always been an academic to a degree. I love reading; I love the smell of books, and I love getting lost in a library. And when I stop to think about it, a lot of the books I love are set in schools or at libraries; they incorporate books and academia as a major part of the story and the world. When I sort myself into a Hogwarts house, I come up Ravenclaw more often than not. I love when fantasy books incorporate a library into their world, and when a game has an academic setting I can explore.
There are two games I played relatively recently that incorporate the trope of the lost library: Thief and Dragon Age: Inquisition (both 2014). Thief has a level that is a ruined library (that is almost ruined by a very frustrating puzzle, but that’s more gameplay mechanics than anything else). The game overall is very gloomy, but this gloom works well for this level, and the idea of seeking out long-lost knowledge. Strange things haunt the corners; staircases move; paths change. Which way is up anymore? It makes the idea of getting ‘lost in a book’ a reality.
In Inquisition the Shattered Library is lost beyond time and space, accessible only by the mysterious Eluvians. Spirits of Knowledge and Study, the Archivists, linger, preserving the last words of those who remained in the Vir Dirthara. Books remain, but will shock those who try to take them from the shelves, as if protecting themselves. The Librarians, once caretakers, are transformed into violent guardians. At one point, Dorian Pavus (more on him at a later date) says, “Look at this place! Now that we have so many samples, how hard would it be to build Eluvians of our own?” Even after he’s dissuaded by a very deadpan Iron Bull, he explains that he’d like to make something magical that is also helpful; most of the magical objects they’ve dealt with over the last few years have been tools of destruction, and Dorian, ever the scholar, wants to use this new research for something good.
A Wizard and a Scholar
Recently I finished Ginn Hale’s Lord of the White Hell Book 1; I will do a proper review eventually! I liked the characters and the plot, but I realized what I really enjoyed most of all was it being set at a school. I liked the discussions of classes and homework assignments, and students studying and complaining about professors. I liked the kind Scholars and the gruff weapons Master. I’m reading the second book right now, and I am enjoying it: the plot continues to deepen, and I grow even fonder of the characters. I’m about halfway through, and I actually really miss the school setting! This isn’t a failure of Hale’s by any means; but it’s made me realize that yes, academia is really my favored trope.When I first read the Harry Potter series I loved the magical world that Rowling created, but it was the descriptions of the school: the library with its forbidden section, the classes students took and the tools of their trade. Maybe I was even a tad disappointed when the final book didn’t (understandably) focus on the schooling…
I think, to a degree, one of the reasons I enjoy Tokien’s work as much as I do is that he was first and foremost a scholar. I love seeing that side of him reflected in Gandalf, particularly in that scene in the Minas Tirith library in Fellowship of the Ring, and I love that Gandalf’s initial reaction is to run off to Gondor to do some serious research. And maybe to an extent, this is part of what I centered in on in Rainbow Rowell’s Fangirl. I saw a lot of myself in Cath with the fanfiction writing and all, but most of the novel was set on a college campus, navigating roommates, classmates, professors, and assignments. And of course there’s The Name of the Wind, by Patrick Rothfuss, two thirds of which are set at the University, centered around a precocious (if slightly wise-assed) first person narrator. I love it.
This is in no way an exhaustive list, but given that the University and its library, and the quest for lost knowledge, play a huge role in my current project, I think it’s safe to say that academia is my “thing”. Is there a “thing” you gravitate toward in your reading habits and/or writing? Share in the comments!
I belong to a fantastic writers’ group over on Facebook, and one of the members is running an amazing sale. The Souls and Shadows boxed set is 20+ books for $.99. Find out where to get them here.
This post isn’t sponsored, and I’m not receiving any compensation; I just want to share good writing at a good deal.
J.R. Rainville 