2024/156: Where the Dead Wait — Ally Wilkes

When animals were slaughtered -- butchered correctly -- they’d have the blood drained. This was the stink of something still fat with blood. Being cooked hastily, for starving men. Something was in the room with them. [p. 127]

I'd found All the White Spaces compelling and well-written, so was keen to read Wilkes' second novel. Her prose is still resonant and evocative, but I didn't enjoy Where the Dead Wait as much: partly, I think, because I didn't find the protagonist (William 'Eat-Em-Fresh' Day) as sympathetic as Jonathan in the previous book, and partly because I found the cannibalism thoroughly unpleasant.

There's a lot more than cannibalism to this novel of 19th-century Arctic exploration. The focal character is William Day, disgraced survivor of a polar expedition, who returns to the Arctic thirteen years later because his second-in-command, Jesse Stevens, has gone missing in the same area. Those members of the original expedition who made it home had resorted to 'the last desperate resource' -- a euphemism for cannibalism -- but Day knows, though has not revealed, that Stevens' nature held darker secrets. Day, who was in inadmissable and unrequited love with Stevens, is accompanied on the rescue mission by old crew mates and a gang of whalers who survived a shipwreck but were changed by it, and by two especially unwelcome passengers: Stevens' wife, a medium, and Avery, a newspaper reporter. Three unwelcome passengers, perhaps: for whenever Day looks into a mirror, or catches a glimpse of a reflection, Stevens is there.

The gradual revelation of the earlier expedition's fate, told in parallel with the second voyage, is excellently paced. Day's slow disintegration has an inevitability as horrific as the events that haunt him. The characters are intriguing (especially Arctic Highlander Qila, and Olive Stevens the medium) and the tension between them palpable. Elements of colonialism ('the expedition’s first acts had been to claim the land around them, as if theirs to do so'); echoes of Heart of Darkness and The Terror. But I now know much more than I wanted to know about cannibalism and the preparation and cooking of human flesh.

They’d taken the good cuts first. And then, with almost unimaginable hubris, they’d buried what was left. [p. 173]

2024/155: We Are All Ghosts in the Forest — Lorraine Wilson

They were not ghosts, but the forest was not just a forest anymore and people had written far too many stories about wolves for them to be unchanged. You tell a thing it is hungry enough times, can you blame it for hunting? [loc. 2388]

Katerina, formerly a photojournalist, lives in her dead grandmother's house, near a small village in Estonia. The villagers think she's a witch (they're right) because she has a knack for herbalism, a talent for talking to bees, a coat whose pockets nearly always give her what she needs, and a ghost cat named Orlando. The forest is semi-sentient, and full of ghosts from the Crash -- when the internet collapsed in on itself, spawning infectious digital ghosts that might be fragments of birdsong, or a galloping horse, or sentient fungus. Or wolves out of fairytales, more intelligent and malevolent than their natural cousins.

The novel begins with Katerina returning to her village with a young boy in tow. His name is Stefan, and he's mute: he gave Katerina a note from his father (a man she doesn't know) asking her to take care of his son. Katerina teaches him to manage the basic tasks of the farm, and tries to find out what became of his father. Could he be somehow linked to the new and terrible illness that's killing travellers? And can Katerina -- with the help of the forest, and the bees, and even the ghosts -- find a cure for it?

This is a slow, dreamy novel, beautifully written and suffused with loneliness and mystery: it reveals its secrets only gradually. The characters seem defined as much as by what they've lost (Katerina mourning her sister, Jaakob trying to 'fish' for the ghost of his husband, Stefan missing his father) as by what they do. There is prejudice (Katerina, as well as being a witch and a traveller, is mixed-race) and xenophobia. The post-technological society that Wilson depicts is as mystical as it's practical. There is great power in stories, and in the ways those stories are told.

Pragmatic and practical, Katerina's inner conflict between her compassion and her fear of emotional connection is vividly depicted: I liked her interactions with the (sometimes prickly) villagers, and she won me over by sprinkling salt on Orlando the Ghost Cat, who turns black to soak up the heat of a stray sunbeam. 'Salt strengthens the signal... Or the current, if that’s how it works. Electricity, either way. Copper powder works better but it also lasts longer and then he starts shredding the rugs'. Definite pandemic vibes here, too, with the isolation and the constant threat of infection... A slow read, but a beautiful one.

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for the advance review copy, in exchange for this full honest review. UK Publication Date is 07 NOV 2024.

2024/154: Dreadnought — April Daniels

The dirty little secret about growing up as a boy is if you’re not any good at it, they will torture you daily until you have the good graces to kill yourself. [loc. 82]

YA superhero fiction. Danny, fifteen, has gone to the shopping mall to buy nail polish and is hiding out in an alleyway painting her toenails: it's the one way she can rebel against being stuck in a boy's body. Then a superhero, Dreadnought, falls out of the sky. Dying, he passes his 'mantle' -- his powers -- to Danny. And part of that mantle is changing the recipient's body to match their self-image. 'That is not the chest I woke up with', observes Danny.

She's finally herself: but her transformation is only the start of the novel. It's not easy being a fifteen-year-old superhero, but it's even harder being a girl with an abusive father who could never have accepted Danny's transgender identity, and refuses to believe that Danny can be happy about her new body. Danny quickly discovers that her best friend David is actually a complete jerk: but she makes a new friend, Latina vigilante Calamity. Calamity's a 'greycape', morally ambiguous: blackcapes are villains, and whitecapes are the good guys. The local whitecape chapter is the Legion Pacifica, who contact Danny and invite her to Legion Tower. Not all of the Legion are cool with the new Dreadnought, and TERFy Graywytch questions her gender. Danny's happier hanging out with Calamity and fighting crime, but their ambition is greater than their ability: going up against a major blackcape is not a smart move.

I enjoyed this a lot, though did feel that most of the characters could have done with more backstory, and indeed more personality. I'd have liked more world-building, too, though there are some intriguing snippets of superhero history: 'In the last great gasp of radio journalism, the whole world stayed glued to their sets to listen to the live reports as [the original] Dreadnought and Mistress Malice savaged each other...' But this gave me a warm glow and a nostalgic affection for the MCU in its heyday (the Legion are reminiscent of the Avengers: a super-strong fighter, an android, a Norse deity, a guy in a suit of armour, a witch...). Not sure I'll read the sequel just yet, but I'd recommend this as a fun read.

I bought this in DEC 2020, and finally read it as part of my 'Down in the Cellar' self-challenge, which riffs on the metaphor of to-be-read pile as wine-cellar rather than to-do list.

2024/153: We'll Prescribe You a Cat — Syou Ishida (translated by Emmie Madison Shimoda)

‘The amount of time you spent together probably matters, but less time doesn’t mean less love. Whether it’s a day or a year, human or cat, and even if we may never see them again, there are those who are irreplaceable in our lives.’ [loc. 2613]

Somewhere in Kyoto, in an old building down a gloomy cobbled alleyway, is the Kokoro Clinic for the Soul. It can only be found by those who need it, who are weighed down by emotional pain. And the door is very heavy, but you have to keep pushing. Inside, terse nurse Chitose will direct you to Doctor Nikké, who will -- as it says on the tin -- prescribe you a cat. An actual cat, in a carrier, with a printed instruction sheet.

We'll Prescribe You a Cat is a series of linked short stories. Kagawa is unhappy at work, and is prescribed a cat who upends his life: he ends up in a much more pleasant job. Koga loathes his new supervisor, who's full of compliments for everyone: his cat helps him connect. There's a ten-year-old girl who's struggling socially, a perfectionist who can't forgive others, a geiko who's lost her own cat and can't get over the guilt. Many of these patients also encounter Dr Kokoro, who looks exactly like Dr Nikké: and Abino the geiko is shocked to find that Nurse Chitose looks exactly like her. There are disturbing rumours about the unit occupied by the Clinic for the Soul: that it's jinxed; that it was used by unscrupulous cat breeders; that it's haunted by ghosts...

Chitose and Nikké are delightful characters, and each cat that they prescribe has a distinct personality. The patients, with their problems and their resolutions, are sensitively written, and though there are echoes of loss, grief and cruelty beneath the surface, the overall mood is joyous.

I liked this much more than I'd expected. The translation reads smoothly, and the hints of magic realism never overdone.

Buddy-read with N, but I kept getting ahead as it was so compelling.

You know the old saying, “A cat a day keeps the doctor away.” Cats are more effective than any other medicine out there.’

2024/152: The Bright Sword — Lev Grossman

“You are not who you think you are, and Britain is not what you think it is. I return you now to Camelot. Your disaster is already in progress.” [loc. 3099]

I rate Grossman's Magicians trilogy (The Magicians, The Magician King,The Magician's Land) very highly, but wasn't sure I wanted to read his take on the Matter of Britain. It was a Daily Deal, though, and I couldn't (well, didn't) resist. I think I loved it, but it's still too soon to say. There is a lot in its nearly 700 pages.

The story begins with Collum, an orphan and bastard who at seventeen is a spectacular warrior, heading for Camelot to pledge allegiance to King Arthur. He arrives too late: the Battle of Camlann was a fortnight ago, almost all the Knights of the Round Table (well, those who survived the Quest for the Holy Grail) are dead or missing, and Arthur was last seen being borne away, gravely wounded, on a magical ship. Those few who remain -- Sir Bedivere, Sir Dagonet, Sir Palomides, Sir Dinadan, Sir Scipio -- are empty of purpose and drowned in misery. Over the course of the novel, their histories (and some of the most famous episodes from Arthurian tradition) are explored, and we learn what the Round Table and Camelot meant to each knight. Morgan, Nimue and Guinevere are important figures, though -- unlike the knights -- none gets her own chapter. And meanwhile, there's a Green Knight and a new Quest and, perhaps, a new king.

This is post-Roman Britain, replete with anachronisms ('the Dark Ages king and the pretty high medieval trappings, Camelot and all the rest of it, [writers] who pick and choose what they like from history and sweep the messy bits under the rug', says Grossman in his entertaining Afterword), a land laid waste by the conflict between God and Faerie, a land threatened by Saxons fleeing rising seas to the east, and by the old gods, and by the new king at Camelot. I found the vestiges of pre-Roman Britain -- the light of civilisation going out, the people who 'scurried back to the old hill forts, which they barely remembered how to live in', the tribes that were once legions -- more engaging and poignant than the medieval-flavoured fantasies of flying ships, shining swords and combat in plate armour.

I very much liked the sense of time in this novel, of the events as happening at one brief moment between a long past and an equally complex future: of the history of Britain as a continual roil of story, 'the past never wholly lost, and the future never quite found'. I liked the knights' tales, which encompass cultural difference ('what the fuck is a zero?' someone asks Sir Palomides, who's from Baghdad), neurodivergence, gender and sexuality, and religious faith. Every time I dip into the novel for a quotation or a reference, I find myself rereading a page or so. I'm looking forward to revisiting The Bright Sword in years to come.

He looked up at the empty clouds, and ... wondered, not for the first time but for the very last, why it should be that we are made for a bright world, but live in a dark one. [last lines]

2024/151: Can't Spell Treason Without Tea — Rebecca Thorne

... unlike Kianthe, who’d ignored this problem and hoped it’d go away, Reyna had spent the time strategizing. She’d always known her freedom wouldn’t come easily, or without a fight—but the Arcandor was supposed to be neutral, and thus, a fight wasn’t truly an option. Two people couldn’t topple a country. [p. 284]

Sapphic romantasy with Reyna (bodyguard to the ruthless Queen) and Kianthe (the Arcandor, leader of the mages) running away together to start a book-and-tea shop. Their elopement is triggered by an assassination attempt on the Queen, foiled by Reyna -- who's wounded in the process, and realises just how little regard said Queen has for her loyal staff.

...I just had to go back and amend that paragraph because I'd mixed up the two characters, an error which I think illustrates my response to this book. 

Though the chapter viewpoints alternate between the two women, they don't have especially distinct voices. They don't really do things as a couple (the books are Kianthe's thing, while Reyna never rereads a novel; the tea is Reyna's thing). Though they make much of their excellent communication ('This was dissolving from a productive conversation into a defensive debate. Kianthe was prone to that, but usually Reyna guided her to a better path') they don't really seem to understand one another very well.

I think I'd have enjoyed the book more if it had started earlier in their romance, rather than presenting them as an established couple -- albeit a couple who have never lived together. And as far as 'cosy' fantasy goes, the stakes here (angry dragons, treason, bandits, murderous monarch) feel rather too epic. I found the ending rather unsatisfactory -- it's basically just postponing any reckoning -- and the constant use of 'tome' instead of 'book' ('the tome on her bedside table'; 'plucked a random tome from the shelves') became irritating quite quickly.

Some nice themes and ideas, but it didn't engage me enough to read more in the series.

2024/150: The Scholar and the Last Fairy Door — H G Parry

Eddie has wanted to hide from the world. Hero had wanted to make it new. Alden and I, in our own ways, loved the old, safe world -- Ashfield and Camford, tradition and beauty, the sunlit days of our childhoods before the Great War.
But the world had never been safe, not for everybody. It had been broken for a very long time, and the war had only shown those cracks for what they were. [loc. 5056]

Clover Hill has grown up knowing that magic isn't for her: it's the realm of the Families, the aristocrats who have magical blood. Nevertheless, when her brother Matthew returns from war terribly wounded by a faerie attack at the Battle of Amiens, she becomes determined to find a way to heal him. She enters Camford, founded by the magical department of Oxford University and in the thirteenth century, as a scholarship witch, somewhat out of her depth both socially and academically. When golden youth Alden Lennox-Fontaine finds her reading a book about faerie magic -- which is banned, and all doors to the faerie realm supposedly closed -- he finds her intriguing enough to draw into his coterie. Clover becomes friends with Hero, Eddie and Alden, and they discover a shared interest in the faerie doors and where they might lead. But the doors were shut for a reason, and their daring experiments have catastrophic consequences.

Dark academia at its best, with a thoughtful exploration of class, privilege and prejudice. I've encountered some elements of this world, and this plot, before: for example, in The Golden Enclaves and a plethora of other works where the happiness of the many depends on the suffering of a few. There are plenty of novels about 'a school for magic' and the intense friendships that outsiders can form: there are plenty of novels about hubris. For me, this novel succeeded because of Clover's voice, and her (impulsive and sometimes immature) personality. The pace is slow and considered, the characters diverse in a period-typical way (Clover's mentor, Lady Winter, is from Madras; one of the characters is gay, one is bisexual; working-class characters as vividly drawn as the aristocrats). Though much of the first half of the novel (set in 1920) takes place in Camford, the second half sees Clover visiting London and Paris.

One minor complaint is the lack of Brit-picking: nobody in 1920 would think of anything as 'the size of a fifty-pence piece', and there are occasional unBritish turns of phrase ('you didn't have to come meet me'). Overall, though, I enjoyed this very much, and am now keen to read Parry's other novels.

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for the advance review copy, in exchange for this full honest review. UK Publication Date is 24 OCT 2024.