Adult · Book review · Fantasy · Short fiction

Reviews: Two Villainous Novellas

Today I’m reviewing two Tor.com novellas I’ve read this year:

  • The Ascent to Godhood by JY Yang, which I read this August and hadn’t posted a review of yet, despite having talked about it many times on this blog already
  • The Monster of Elendhaven by Jennifer Giesbrecht, a book I read this October for Spookathon.

34613788The Ascent to Godhood is about the relationship between Hekate, the series’ villainess, and Lady Han, a courtesan-turned-revolutionary. It follows how the two met, the times they spent together, and how the relationship fell apart – so, yes, it’s basically an f/f villain romance, with delicious intrigue in the background.

The Tensorate is a series of novellas written in unusual formats, some of which worked for me more than others, and when I heard that The Ascent to Godhood was to be a transcription of “a drunken monologue”, I thought this wouldn’t work for me at all. And was I wrong. You already vaguely know how the story ends, and you’re being told by Lady Han what happened, and yet it works – maybe too much? (Those were my FEELINGS, book. How dare you.) It makes up for the details lost in the telling with a narrative voice that you will remember, and maybe exactly because of the few descriptions you’re given, the few details you know are even more memorable.
This ended up being my favorite novella in the series.

This is not the story of a revolution. It is much more personal than that, it’s a story about love and loss and grief, and it deliberately doesn’t focus on Hekate’s downfall, because that’s not what was important to Lady Han to begin with. Lady Han loved this terrible woman, and hated her just as much, and this is about how those feelings can coexist, and this complicated, twisted relationship. If you’re looking for something that is about political intrigue and a revolution, you’re going to be disappointed – they’re the background, not the focus. I didn’t mind that; I was there for the villain romance, and all the conflicting feelings that come with it. It’s probably my favorite trope, and it means so much to me to finally see a book focus specifically on an f/f version of it.

Villainous, competent women are my favorite kind of characters, so I knew right from the beginning that Hekate was going to have a lot of potential, but I didn’t think I would get a book focusing on her, and I’m so glad this exists. Lady Han is also brave and shrewd and manipulative, and I loved reading her version of the story.
The Ascent to Godhood is a tragedy, one about how your love and admiration for a person can mislead you, and about how the excessive mistrust from those experiences can destroy you all the same. Tragic f/f love stories in which the tragedy has nothing to do with homophobia, like the m/f ones that have existed since forever, have so much value, and while this is a tragic gay story, it’s not the kind of tragic gay story we’re so familiar with.

I also loved how this novella and The Descent of Monsters were tied to each other. I didn’t love The Descent of Monsters, but this novella gave it more meaning. I really recommend reading this even if you, like me, thought the third book was kind of a waste of your time. The only thing I still don’t understand is what is even up with Sonami. I mean, this book kind of gave me an answer, but as she’s not a developed character at all, I’d still love to know more.

My rating: ★★★★¾

Content warnings: suicide of a minor character, child trafficking, death of a toddler, forced sterilization. Nothing graphic because you’re just being told about it, and usually not in detail.


42269378-1This was so gory, disgusting and atmospheric you could almost feel the smell of decay wafting from the pages.

The Monster of Elendhaven is a dark fantasy novella following an immortal, magical man as he meets another man who might be even more dangerous than him, and who might have some nefarious plans; deliciously evil relationship ensues.

What I loved the most about this novella was the writing. It is vivid, even though most of the time you kind of wish it hadn’t been, because Elendhaven is a horrible place to be in, and every single character is on some level corrupt and/or unhinged. I loved it for that; it truly makes you experience just how ugly this world is. It also doesn’t take itself too seriously, and the narrator’s humor made this city bearable to read about and also made it feel more real.

“Leickenbloom Manor was the oldest mansion in the city: four floors, twenty-six rooms, and a wrought-iron trim that made it look like an ancient prison that had been garnished by an extremely fussy knitting circle.”

This book had the best descriptions, yes.

I also really liked the way the relationship was being set up: as usual, I’m always there for the trainwrecks, especially if they involve gay characters being evil the way a straight one would be allowed to be. (I don’t feel like the novella explored the full potential of it, but that’s not too unusual for short books.)

Those two things were a significant part of why I loved the first half, which introduces the reader to the world, the characters and what they’re up to; I thought this was going to be amazing because of what it seemed to lead up to.
And then… it just fizzled out. It starts talking about an apocalypse and then just ends with that? (I know, I’m vague, but I keep things non-spoilery.) Maybe there’ll be a sequel, I don’t know. What I know is that when I got to the end, my main feeling was “that’s it?”

I hesitate to say that this isn’t good, because it is well-written, but I didn’t really get what it was going for, and in the end, I kept thinking about so many other directions it could have taken that I would have liked more – but then that’s kind of wanting to read a different book.

My rating: ★★★½


Have you read any great novellas/stories about villains lately?

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Adult · Sci-fi · Short fiction

Review: Meet Me in the Future by Kameron Hurley

43801821._sy475_I could sum up my thoughts about Meet Me in the Future by saying that all the stories were, if not always good, at least solid, but not one of them was memorable on its own the way I find short stories can be.
These stories are not pretty. They’re not necessarily satisfying. They would, however, be really interesting to discuss, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the whole purpose of how some of these were written. They’re meant to be shared and talked about, not read and put down, I think.

As you’d expect from something Kameron Hurley wrote, many of them are about war. War is an element in the past, still casting a shadow on the main character (Elephants and Corpses), it’s something that is seen as inevitable by a society, but is also a direct danger to it (The Red Secretary, oh had this story a lot to say), or something that is paradoxically seen by some as “bringing civilization” even as it actually destroys it (The War of Heroes), something that is always inherently tied to the dehumanization of someone (When We Fall) and horror, horror, horror as much as an instrument to keep the attention away from the actual enemy (The Light Brigade – I recommend skipping this one if you want to read the book, however), something that needs to end (The Improbable War).
Not all of these were anything remarkable when read on their own. Inside the collection, it’s a running thread, and there is for sure a lot to discuss.

There’s also, of course, a lot of queerness and discussions about gender. The collection starts with a body-hopping mercenary who happens to be a trans man (Elephants and Corpses), and presents gender as something not tied to bodies, even though still relevant to the person, and continues with stories about violent matriarchies (The Women of Our Occupation, possibly my least favorite story, I’m not that interested in reading about speculative reverse sexism), stories in which gender is never stated (The Light Brigade), stories in which there’s only one gender (Warped Passages), and stories in which there are at least four different genders recognized by the society (The Plague Givers, my favorite story). In these stories, women are allowed to be ugly, to be dirty – queer, disabled, brown women are allowed to be all of these things without ever be seen as anything but wholly human, the way a man could be portrayed. The idea that women have to be beautiful is so woven into everything, even everything fictional, that these stories almost feel jarring.
And, since we’re talking about women and imperfections, here women are allowed to be evil or morally gray, humans with the capacity to experience a full spectrum of emotions. I will always be there for portrayals of queer women that are all but soft and unproblematic; in Garda we get a woman who is divorcing from her two wives (if the story had been about that, instead of becoming about a mystery with a main character who wasn’t Nyx but felt exactly like Nyx from the Bel Dame Apocrypha series, I would have liked it a lot more), and in The Plague Givers we get a story about the consequences of a very toxic f/f relationship in a world where magic can bring plague (I loved this one so much).

There are a couple stories that felt like filler (notably, The Fisherman and the Pig was a completely unnecessary sequel to Elephants and Corpses), but overall, this is a collection with a lot of things to say; the average rating might be a weak 3.5 stars, but the whole is more than a sum of its parts.

My overall rating: ★★★★

Individual ratings:

  • Elephants and Corpses – 4 stars
  • When We Fall – 4 stars
  • The Red Secretary – 4 stars
  • The Sinners and the Sea – 3.5 stars
  • The Women of Our Occupation – 2 stars
  • The Fisherman and the Pig – 2 stars
  • Garda – 3 stars
  • The Plague Givers – 4.5 stars
  • Tumbledown – 4 stars
  • Warped Passages – 4 stars
  • Our Faces, Radiant Sisters, Our Faces Full of Light – 2.5 stars
  • Enyo-Enyo – 3 stars
  • The Corpse Archives – 2.5 stars
  • The War of Heroes – 3.5 stars
  • The Light Brigade – 4.5 stars
  • The Improbable War – 3 stars

Do you rate anthologies with the average rating of the stories or do you have another system?

Book review · Young adult

Review: Here There Are Monsters by Amelinda Bérubé

36445966Strange Grace meets The Wicker King, but duller, more hopeless, and unnecessarily heterosexual. If you’ve followed me for a while, you might know that I loved Amelinda Bérubé’s debut, The Dark Beneath the Ice, for being an introspective, chilling horror story about mental illness, portrayed with a care that I don’t always trust the horror genre to have. Here There Are Monsters, however, didn’t resonate emotionally with me at all.

This was… I’m not sure what it was. On the surface, it’s a horror story about a girl gone missing and the woods trying to drag other people into the horrifying, twisted game that got her to begin with. What I got from it is a story about cycles of violence, about neglected teens and preteens trying to survive in a world that laughs at the violence perpetrated against them, and the twisted and ugly things that rise from these situations. About the toxic pull of power, because you want your bullies to stop, you want to make them stop, and the horrifying answers to powerlessness. It’s also a story about how trying to rescue a person from their self-destructive urges might destroy you – and the people around you – in turn.
These sound like good concepts, now that I write them down like this, but what this book did was merely point at the situation and say “it’s ugly”. Yes, of course it’s ugly. Now what?
I don’t know. I guess I wanted more from it.

The thing is, I didn’t feel like the characters gained that much from what happened to them. Skye’s character arc felt wobbly to me, and in a genre that relies a lot on character arcs, I can’t accept that. Or maybe I just struggle with stomaching character development that is both positive and negative (I would explain more, but I don’t want spoilers in here; my take on some things is that the path towards doing better isn’t made of self-loathing). Also, by the end I disliked every single character in the book (my whole opinion of the love interest was “someone please give that boy a personality”), which made caring even more difficult.
I don’t need to like the characters, especially not in a horror book, but then there have to be either solid thematic arcs or character arcs, and here, that wasn’t really the case.

There are some things about this book I did appreciate, like the creepy forest atmosphere, and the fact that the book described which plants one could find in said creepy forest (cedar, sumac, white pine – probably the most detailed plant horror descriptions I have ever read, which was wonderful). It’s just that nothing about the actual story really drew me in.

As with every horror book I didn’t like, I’m left wondering if I missed the point of it entirely. Maybe I did, and this book could be important to someone else the way The Dark Beneath the Ice was almost a revelation to meHere There Are Monsters was just fine, there was nothing deeply wrong with it, so it’s not a story I would actively recommend people to avoid. However, stay away from it if animal death, including pet death, is one of your triggers, as there’s a lot of it.

I definitely intend to read more by Amelinda Bérubé in the future, and I hope I will like (understand?) those books more.

My rating: ★★½

Book review · Sci-fi · Young adult

Review: Wilder Girls by Rory Power

42505366Annihilation meets Lord of the Flies in this YA literary horror debut featuring a quite deadly illness that slowly turns an all-girl school’s students into monsters.

Unfortunately, me and this book didn’t click as much as I hoped after seeing that cover – one of the most gorgeous in YA – and what this book was about, since it promised creepy woods and queer girls. It delivered both, but I found only one of them actually satisfying.

The main reason this book didn’t work for me were the characters. There wasn’t anything wrong with them, not really, but by the end of the book, I realized that I didn’t know them at all, which was the reason I couldn’t bring myself to care about them. I rooted for them, of course, but I didn’t feel it.
They felt so distant that I started to wonder whether this was intentional and the author was trying to mirror what Annihilation did with its main character. (And it really feels like a YA version of that! It even has the bear.) I can’t know the author’s intent, but the Annihilation approach worked because that book was barely longer than a novella, not even reaching 200 pages.

Another theory is that she chose not to develop her characters because Wilder Girls is meant to be a general portrayal of the experience of girlhood in a misogynistic world – which it could be, since this can be seen as a story about how girls are constantly made to change, told to be different, told that their bodies should be always beautiful, told that their bodies belong to everyone but them. Even then, I still don’t think this was the best choice (if it really was intentional). I just… couldn’t get invested in anything but the atmosphere.

Also: (spoilers)

I’m so tired of “climate change!!” plot twists in books that never in any way talk about ecology. It may be that I’m studying it and so I feel strongly about that, but to me it feels like constantly reading novels in which every plot twist involves deities but that never actually talk about religion. Of course we want to talk about climate change, of course it’s horrifying, but that’s exactly why you shouldn’t throw it around as if it were magic that is completely not tied to how ecosystems actually work.
I strongly believe that metaphors for something should make sense emotionally, and this… didn’t? I don’t know, when the cause was revealed I was pretty underwhelmed, and the worst thing is that I can already think of a lot of ways a similar set-up would have made a far better metaphor for climate change

 

Apart from that, I can say that this book is really well-written. The writing is gorgeous and evocative, the pacing excellent, and this is one of the best examples of plant horror I’ve ever read, because for once, I’ve found a plant horror book that actually tells you how the forest looks like and which trees are there (pines, spruces – yes, this book doesn’t call all of them pines, I love that – and broadleaf deciduous trees). I still didn’t love it, as I prefer books in which the forest horror comes from the plants and not from the animals that roam it.
Also, creepy tide pools! There are creepy tide pools! I loved the setting so much.

In addition to what didn’t work for me about the characters, this book also had what didn’t work for me about Annihilation, the sad, lost and gloomy tone, as I find it exhausting, but that’s not the book’s fault.

My rating: ★★★½

If you want to know the trigger warnings for Wilder Girlsthis list on the author’s site is comprehensive, but to that I’d add “therapy session gone wrong”, because I needed it.

Book review · Fantasy · Young adult

Review: Never-Contented Things by Sarah Porter

39863312-1Sarah Porter is the author of one of my all-time favorite books, Vassa in the Night. When I saw that she had written another book, one about creepy fairies, I knew I had to read it.

Never-Contented Things is a dark contemporary fantasy story about a codependent relationship between two foster siblings. It’s ugly, messy, disturbing and hard to read, and if you’re the kind of person who likes to read about teenagers doing the right thing, I really don’t recommend this book. The main characters in this story are in no way role models, and they aren’t meant to be. However, I think that stories about messed up teenagers finding a way out are very important.

This is a very uncomfortable read with a beautiful message. A story that says that no matter what you went through, there’s hope. You can heal. And maybe you will always be haunted by those memories, but you can get better.
I think we need this kind of stories too, because teens go through similar things – well, not the part were they’re trapped by creepy fairies, but you can see that as a metaphor – and this deserves to be recognized. And we need messed up stories from the point of view of marginalized characters (all main characters here are queer) as well. It may not be the most positive representation ever, but it can help. Not everyone sees themselves in stories about unproblematic people.

This book follows three characters:

Ksenia Adderley, arguably the main character. She’s currently living with her foster brother Josh and her foster parents, Mitch and Emma, who accuse her of having a bad influence on her brother. She’s white, presents as masculine and is described as “not a girl” in some parts of this book, which makes me think she is nonbinary/genderqueer, but she never says anything about it (or, at least, if she did I missed it). She is attracted to multiple genders but doesn’t label herself. She has been in multiple traumatic situations before, including sexual assault, and she’s perceived as cold by many because she’s very closed off. She says and thinks a lot of messed up things, but I understood her and she grew on me.
Joshua “Josh” Korensky, white, chubby, pansexual and gender-non-conforming. He’s perceived as the “good” sibling by his parents. While I understood his motivations and liked his character arc (and he is, after all, a victim too), it was very hard not to despise him.
Alexandra “Lexi” Holden, black, mostly into men but not only, grew up in a supportive family and is a good student. She’s Josh and Ksenia’s friend, she sees how the situation spirals out of control, and she has a major role in Ksenia’s recovery. I really liked her PoV.

The relationship Josh and Ksenia have is unhealthy, codependent and becomes abusive throughout the story. Ksenia is over-protective because she feels like Josh is the only one who understands her and loves her. She is really afraid to lose him, as she has lost many people before. She takes all the responsibility for every time he messes up, and she is seen as the one who has a bad influence on Josh, even if she’s actually the one who sees him as a brother. Josh, however, doesn’t really see Ksenia as a sister, disregards her consent because he believes he knows what she actually wants, and pressures her in romantic/sexual situations.
They’re doing all the wrong things to remain together, and it’s difficult to read.

But Never-Contented Things isn’t just about unhealthy relationships. The friendship between Ksenia and Lexi was healthier, and even the romance (f/f? f/genderqueer?) that develops from it seemed to be. I really liked Ksenia and Lexi together.
One could argue this is a story about a romance helping a person get out of an abusive relationship, but I don’t really agree. Ksenia isn’t saved by Lexi, or by Lexi’s love. Lexi helps her realize she has a problem, but the decision to confront the truth about herself and her relationship with Josh was, ultimately, Ksenia’s. Ksenia doesn’t just get out of a relationship, she gets out of the mindset that got her there, and that’s why I didn’t mind that this book ended with a romance.

I won’t lie, I didn’t enjoy reading most of this. While it does have its fun moments (…the scene about Prince on the burning chair made me laugh out loud), I almost DNFed it multiple times. It made me feel sick. I also highlighted entire pages of it, especially near the ending, because the character development was wonderful.

What I liked the most about Never-Contented Things was Ksenia’s character arc. It’s one of the most well-written arcs I’ve read in a while.
This is a story about denial and self-hate. Ksenia believes she can’t be loved or understood, and that’s why she gets too close to the only person she believes loves her; she also believes she is a bad person, that she doesn’t really deserve to be happy. That part in which she says that she struggles to appreciate the good things about herself, that she gets she should in the abstract but doesn’t really feel it? I understand this kind of double standard more than I’d like to.

You might have noticed that so far I’ve barely mentioned the fairies. That’s because this is not really a “fae book”, the fairies here are… kind of incidental. They make the situation worse, and they add a lot of creepiness – pool party with dying ghost horses? Door graveyards? Eyes growing on your hat? There’s a lot here – but they’re not the focus.
That doesn’t mean they weren’t awesomely disgusting. Especially Unselle. She’s the girl on the cover of this book, and everything she says and does is very creepy and wrong on so many levels. I loved reading about her.

My rating: ★★★★

Trigger warnings for: foster brother/sister incest, codependency, parental neglect, emotional abuse, sexual assault, on-page death, body horror, mentions of suicide.

Adult · Book review · Fantasy

Review: Into the Drowning Deep by Mira Grant

34523174I usually don’t give five stars to a book if it took me ten days to read it. However, I like to take horror in small doses; I also read most of this outside – at the beach, because there’s no better beach read than marine horror – and I often put it down because I wanted to spend my time there doing underwater photography, not reading.
I may have spent half of my goodreads updates complaining, but this book deserves five stars, and now I’ll try to explain why.

Into the Drowning Deep is a story about a scientific expedition trying to find mermaids after the mysterious deaths of the passengers of the AtagartisI decided to read this because I love everything that has to do with marine biology, and for once I found a book that talked about it without constantly breaking my suspension of disbelief. Not because it was realistic, it didn’t need to: it showed what I would expect scientists to do if they ever found mermaids.
I mean, this book features:

🦀 mermaid necropsy! With details! And people trying to classify them. Are they mammals, fish, reptiles, amphibians or what
🦀 biologists getting very excited about studying mermaid lice
🦀 biologists having very strong opinions about cetaceans (100% true to real life as far as my experience goes). Never ask a marine biologist about dolphins and whales (and never ask them about tuna, even if that’s a fish) unless you want an infodump
🦀 people making very… unwise decisions to discover things
🦀 scientists talking about funds and publications and all that stuff you never see in books when there’s science involved
🦀 try to find another book that mentions carcinisation
🦀 for once, a books that gets how terrifying the sea is. Even real-life sea without mermaids. Really, it’s terrifying and yet I get all the unwise decisions of the scientists. During one of these underwater photography days, I had to move aside to avoid a stingray; I did not chase it to photograph it because I’m not that suicidal, but I get the temptation – I never saw one before! Especially not here! – and that’s why I get this book

The sea is beautiful, the sea is scary, and humans are fascinated by scary, beautiful things. This book gets it. I love it. Enough not to care too much about the things I hated.
Sometimes I thought the environmentalism aspect was exaggerated – not because global warming and poaching don’t have real consequences (they do.) but don’t say a species is extinct in the wild when you’re talking about one subspecies of it! On the other hand, I liked how this book explored people’s relationships with the environment from many points of view. In a way, this is a story about humans being too proud, too fearless because they don’t know how danger looks anymore.

Sometimes the characters annoyed me, even some that weren’t meant to. I’m talking mostly about Dr. Toth. I didn’t hate her most of the time, but the writing didn’t help – it doesn’t let you have your own opinion about the characters. If the writer thinks a character is a bad person you get almost told they’re the worst people ever, and if the writer thinks a person is awesome (…Dr. Toth), you have to endure the narration telling how awesome and great that person is. Which is very annoying, but I understand why telling and not showing can be useful in a book with such a large cast.

My problem with Dr. Toth was:

🦀 “the scientists were wrong and the misunderstood pseudoscientist was right all along” is one of my least favorite tropes ever. Pseudoscientists are dangerous, they’re the reasons we have anti-vaxxers. And someone who was convinced of the mermaids’ existence since before the Atagartis incident is definitely a pseudoscientist.
🦀 she broke my suspension of disbelief more than the mermaids. When Dr. Toth and some other scientists are talking about whether mermaids could be mammals, she mentions that an animal doesn’t have to be viviparous to be considered a mammal (true! see Monotremes). Then she starts a long infodump about the fact that there’s no viviparous/oviparous binary, because there are animals who “lay their eggs internally”. Yes, it’s true, it’s called ovoviviparity and it’s not a revolutionary concept, and I don’t think there’s a biologist who thinks that binary even exists. I knew about ovoviviparity since I was six from book about animals for children, and we learned about it in third grade. The fact that she explained ovoviviparity to scientists and no one told her to stop being condescending is very unrealistic.
🦀 If you’d rather humans got hurt instead of animals, there’s something very wrong with you.
Hence the not-full five stars, but I did want to give this book a full five.

But let’s go back to the positive things. This book is about scientists, and it’s diverse. This alone is something that means a lot to me. Some relevant characters are:

🦀 Victoria “Tory” Stewart, a bisexual marine biologists whose sister died because of the mermaids; she falls in love with another woman during this story. She was my favorite character in the book and the main reason I read it in the first place. Not only a queer woman in science, a queer woman who is a marine biologist. I thought I would never see that.
🦀 Olivia Sanderson, an autistic lesbian who became a camera operator to overcome anxiety. I loved her a lot, and I’m glad I found another book with a f/f romance I actually loved!
The part in which she talked about how non-disabled parents abuse their disabled children in subtle ways like telling them they will never be sexual/infantilizing them was something I never saw in a book, but it’s true.
🦀 Not-really-divorced Jillian Toth and her disabled (chronic pain due to an accident) husband Theo Blackwell. Jillian is Hawaiian; I’ve already said what I thought about her, but I can say that I appreciated her slight moral grayness. Same thing for her husband, except he’s more morally gray and I didn’t always understand him. Anyway, I never saw a similar relationship dynamic before.
🦀 three red-headed sisters, Hallie, Heather and Holly Wilson, of which the last two are deaf scientists (and twins) and the first is an interpreter. I loved the discussion about accessibility and really liked all of them. Heather’s descent in the Mariana Trench with the submersible “Minnow” is probably the best scene in the book. It perfectly got the “the ocean is terrifying but I can’t look away” theme.

And there are many others! These are the most relevant ones, but we get at least ten, if not fifteen PoVs. Some of them last only a chapter, but no character was ever so underdeveloped I didn’t care about them in some way (even if my caring was “I hope they get eaten by a mermaid”)

My rating: ★★★★¾

Adult · Book review · Fantasy · Short fiction

Review: The Descent of Monsters by JY Yang

37535312The Descent of Monsters is the third novella in the silpunk fantasy series Tensorate. It does not follow the twins anymore, not directly, and it’s told completely through letters, parts of diaries and reports.

I didn’t like this novella as much as the first two books, for two main reasons: the format, and the main character.
One of the things I liked the most about the first two books was the atmosphere, especially the description of the setting. Because of the format, I didn’t get many of them here, and this book has a completely different tone from the first two – it’s almost horror, but not my kind of horror. Reading about terrifying megafauna was great, but everything about it felt distant because of the way this book was written, and horror should not feel distant.
What I liked about the megafauna experimentation aspect, apart from the fact that there are dinosaurs and of course I appreciate that, is that it really makes you wonder who are the monsters.

My main problem with Tensor Chuwan Sariman, our new main character, was that she just wasn’t that interesting. I would have loved to read this book from almost every other character’s PoV but hers, and since a significant part of the book (my favorite part) was also not told in her PoV but in Rider’s, I ended up feeling like I didn’t know her at all when I reached the ending. I don’t know much about her apart from the fact that she swears a lot and has a wife she never sees.

Small Spoiler-y Section

Also, Sariman dies. All-queer cast, so it’s not like it’s a problem or anything, but I can’t say I liked that – I read this book right after another in which a similar thing happened, and I’m just kind of tired of seeing f/f couples being torn apart by death.

While I didn’t particularly like Sariman as a main character, I do get why this book was told from her PoV – every rebellion has casualties, but that’s a point of view we rarely get, so much that we’re used to them being expendable characters in fiction.

What saved this book for me were the side characters. I loved seeing Akeha again – I love them so much [they started using they/them pronouns in this book because they realized they could after meeting Rider. They started using he/him in the first book because of societal pressure. I love reading about characters figuring themselves out] – and Mokoya is still awesome, even if she’s barely there. Rider’s diary and quest were also what I was really invested in while reading this story. I wish I could have cared about Sariman just as much, but that didn’t happen.

Also, what’s Sonami’s deal?

Even if The Descent of Monsters was somewhat disappointing considering how much I loved the previous books, I still can’t wait for To Ascend to Godhood.

My rating: ★★★½