My experience with this book suffered a little bit due to switching between the ebook and the audiobook since I had not developed a pronunciation of many of these names in my head while reading the ebook. Thus, it took me a little while for me to associate the spoken names with the characters. Apart form that, I found myself fascinated by this narrative which does not follow traditional western style fantasy tropes. This book does
not have a single main character and rather tells the story of a group of female bandits, how each of these women found their way to this group, how they came to work together against the power-hungry chancellor working in the name of the emperor and how they develop deep emotional ties with each other and the people they strive to protect. I am definitely invested in this world and want to read the sequel although it has yet to be announced.
The problem with reading the ARC of a first book in a series is that the gap between books expands more than usual making it more difficult to remember details. I probably could have gotten a little more out of the book if I had read the two closer together. That being said, I still really enjoyed the experience. As the plot unfolded, I remembered more and started to find connections, something that enhances my
experience. This book initially moves away from the direct Arthurian legend connections while diving deeper into related Celtic mythology, something I really enjoy. While I will not mention any details about the plot, I will state that Bracken did an excellent job weaving everything together in this duology in a satisfying manner.
This YA entry in the Rick Riordan Presents imprint is marked as horror. As someone with minimal familiarity with the genre, I do not know many of the typical tropes. Some that I have seen in books like this read more like dark fantasy in my opinion which I can appreciate in how it functions in the narrative. This book also teased the possibility of an unreliable narrator, which I also do not like, but did it in a way that I
appreciated. The main character is the oldest of three, a first born American in a Taiwanese family. She has to endure many of the typical expectations to excel in everything she does while ultimately becoming the high-performing doctor, lawyer, or scientist. She, however, prefers piano – something her parents support for the bragging rights of a certain certification level – while her younger sister prefers dance. On top of all that, she has seen odd things for years, something that intensifies after a relationship break with her sister who seems to change completely, and brings the main character in contact with a brother and sister pair (and a friend_ who have been keeping that area safe and guiding souls to the underworld. This set the stage for exploration of the complex dynamics between parents and children, “old world” and “new world”, and what it means to become your own person while still honoring your parents and culture. I found the ending a bit interesting though because while the narrative wrapped up completely satisfactorily, it clearly laid the groundwork for sequels though everything around this book says that it is a standalone.
This second book in the series continues the story of the Chu siblings and their friends brought together by the events of book 1. This installment leans a little bit more into the fantastical but not too much which I appreciated. Dao also expanded the point of view characters from Sadie and Clip to include Sadie’s best friend, Jeremy. This turns the narrative into more of an ensemble which I appreciated. I also appreciated the expansion of the representation to include Jeremy’s experience as a Black boy.
This third book spans a much tighter time frame – a single weekend – than the first two with around a hundred less pages as well. Dao continues to expand the point of view and representation by including one of Clip’s best friends, Iggy (Ignacio), who manages to pick up a supernaturally connected cat in book 2 who has now become a TikTok sensation. This installment leans much more into the fantastical while remaining rooted in the real world. This narrative did not break any new ground but I found the structure and overall arc of the plot enjoyable. Team Chu adds yet another member which worked in this installment but made me wonder how Dao will be able to continue this type of expansion if she plans to. That being said, I think that this book makes for an engaging read that many middle school students could enjoy.
Next, I turned my attention to nonfiction to round out the month with two memoirs and an unfortunately timely recent history. I had calculated my nonfiction percentage for the month earlier and found that – at the time – I was a little behind. As you saw in the wrap up, I miscounted or miscalculated since I overwhelmingly met this monthly goal.
While I never became obsessed with One Tree Hill while it aired, watching mainly just the first and second seasons, the show definitely became a cultural touchstone for me. Thus, when I saw Lenz’ memoir as a Book of the Month option, I snapped it right up. Wow. I really appreciated how Lenz told her story, clearly processing and unpacking her time in this cult. A lot of her portrayal of Haley James Scott on the show makes so much sense
learning about her background. I also noted a few eerie resonances between her memoir and that of Shari Franke, specifically around the way that manipulative people in their lives hooked their claws in and messed with their heads. I also saw many unfortunate parallels in the religious manipulation although my upbringing definitely did not verge quite so far down the BITE Model. (I have seen examples, unfortunately, of subgroups connected to the main organization in my upbringing as well as individuals without much, if any, outside influence, who exhibited many of the behaviors and ideologies Lenz described here.) Finally, I also identified on a nearly visceral level with Lenz when, after leaving the cult and discovering the financial exploitation while fighting for custody of her daughter, screams and curses at God, desperately clinging to her faith after humans around her royally screwed things up. I definitely recommend this memoir.
Unlike Lenz, I knew nothing about Neko Case aside form what the synopsis disclosed. Even so, this memoir also held resonance with another book that I read this month, this time a fiction one, The People We Keep. I can even see similarities in the emotions and actions behind the two titles. Neko had a rough upbringing as the product of two teenagers fooling around without protection. They weren’t ready to bring a life into the world
much less get married and build a life together but society expected them to do just that. Needless to say, the marriage did not work. Neko clearly loved each of her parents even if they did not know how to love her and in the case of her mother, struggled not to resent Neko. The main character of The People We Keep also has a volatile relationship with her mother although that mother never comes back while Neko’s does after having everyone pretend, for Neko’s sake, that she had terminal cancer and died. Throughout the years, Neko turned to her passion of music, (like the main character of The People We Keep) and discovers many layers, which, tragically, included abuse, that could help her understand why her parents struggled and why her mother had such a complex relationship with her. Both books highlight this cyclical nature of abuse and poverty while ending on notes that perhaps that cycle has ended without going so far as to confirm it. Yet again, I have another memoir to recommend.
I finished my reads for January with this catastrophically timely work. Abramsky profiles two small towns, one in Washington state, and the other in Northern California and their response to the events of 2020 including Covid-19, the racial motivated murders of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor, and how the I-wish-I-could-say-former-president as well as support for him influenced local politics. One town
seemed to regain its sanity; the other did not. I wish we could be even more separated from this toxic ideology since that cast a shadow on the little bit of optimism that Abramsky ended the book with but having four years now from that time does allow for retrospective study without some of the trauma responses that come by revisiting an experience like 2020 – yes an entire year – can evoke. I wish that we had had even more time to reflect and learn since so many did none of that and here we are again, even worse this time.
This was an almost surreal way to end the month but unfortunately fitting for the hell-scape that Americans find them in again. (Yes, real world events will likely find their way into many of my reviews going forward, especially any nonfiction or contemporary fiction that I read.)