Rebecca Yarros – Fourth Wing
Posted 20th January 2025
Category: Reviews Genres: Fantasy, Political, Romance
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The front cover says ‘fly or die’ – to get that far you need to walk or die, win fights or die, and generally take care or die. Dragons got nothing on this…
Violet is about to enter the Riders’ Quadrant of Basgaith College, of which her mother is a leader. She’s spent all her life so far preparing to be a Scribe but her mother isn’t having it – she’s got to follow the family’s effective tradition. And so Violet enters a literal cut-throat college with no experience and a target on her back for being her mother’s daughter – the older woman had a big role in subduing the parents of a whole bunch of now-candidates, young people who are there by force as penitence for their parents’ sins. But the horror starts at the entry point: in order to become a trainee rider, each candidate must walk over a parapet high above a valley. Each year, tens of people don’t make it and the weather today is wet and windy. If she makes it, Violet must make no friends, only allies, learn to fight, and, if she makes it all the way to meeting the dragons, hope to be chosen by one of them. These dragons breathe fire more often than any other you’ve encountered in fiction before, but without them there is no hope of Violet’s country winning the generations-long war.
Fourth Wing is an absolutely tremendous novel of high fantasy, high stakes, constant character peril (and, yes, they do die), politics, and death and destruction. It’s a book I’m happy to describe as living up to the hype, a famed book for good reason, a book that combines various basic ideas from various decades gone by to nevertheless create a new premise and story. It’s also an incredibly immersive story, the writing and description providing a filmic backdrop.
It would be impossible to point to one single reason this book works; it really is the sum of its parts. The first, and potentially most notable aspect, is the horror and violence – this book gives The Hunger Games a run for its money in just how nasty and violent it is. Death is, in many ways literally, around every corner from the moment Rider candidates join, and that only lets up after graduation insofar as unless the enemy the country is at war with is on your doorstep, you get a reprieve.
I want to get to what I would say are negative aspects about the book out of the way before continuing and one relates to the horror – sex and swearing are everywhere in Fourth Wing. Presented by the author as an activity undertaken due to living in survival mode, candidates are always having sex with each other and it’s almost always casual. Violet herself (the narrative is first person) thinks about sex a great deal to the point that the book is explicit throughout rather than just during the two fully-fledged sex scenes. The swearing is just as frequent and mainly concerns the F word. I personally wonder if both the casual sex and swearing are in there in large part to simply make it obvious that this is not a Young Adult novel, rather than for storytelling purposes.
Talking of the sex scenes and romantasy, let’s do this: this is a high fantasy romance book. You have a few chapters where there’s a possible love triangle before the way ahead becomes clear – in this, the first book of the Empyrean series, Yarros isn’t about to emulate previous decades’ tropes. She wants to get to the chemistry and build-up. I will say that the sex when it happens is rather fun, the explicitness muted by character development. It’s also comical on purpose. And, given that the romance leads of this book are discussed by fans so often, it’s worth noting that they are a diverse couple. (Yes, I’ve seen the AI fan art, too – it’s not accurate.)
The characters, then – Violet is a very average person, as she does remind you often, because she has no drive or confidence in her ability to be a Rider. She was brought up by her father to be a Scribe and, throughout the book, even through her successes she dreams longingly of the archives and the peace being in them would bring her. Xaden, who it’s pretty obvious will be the male lead from chapter one, is less developed due to us being in Violet’s head (you do get to know how hot he is) but a story element leads to us being able to hear more from him later on. The dragons are grumpy and dangerous and set people on fire and… are hilarious. Yes. And Violet’s eventual role as a chosen Rider by a dragon is extremely worth the wait. In fact the book consistently sports something major to look forward to and this is a big part of the story’s success.
There are various other important characters who become part of the core circle, and Yarros keeps the threat of death ever present.
We remain in the same location for the vast majority of Fourth Wing but it never gets boring. And the politics is well-planned with shocks that, no matter whether or not you work them out early, promise much for the continuation of the series.
I think I’ve written enough; frankly, I’d be surprised if anyone’s still reading these words. I’ll end on this – go read Fourth Wing. You won’t regret it and you can thank me later.
Publisher: Piatkus (Hachette)
Pages: 516
Type: Non-Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-0-349-44031-6
First Published: 2nd May 2023
Date Reviewed: 18th December 2024
Kaliane Bradley – The Ministry Of Time
Posted 21st October 2024
Category: Reviews Genres: 2020s, Comedy, Commentary, Fantasy, Historical, LGBT, Romance, Science Fiction
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Doing the time warp.
Our narrator is a ‘bridge’ – a civil servant working in a top secret government ministry whose role it is to live and guide a person who has been extracted from the past and brought into the 21st century. These historical figures are people who are taken from their own time period just before the moment of their death – this gets around any pesky paradoxical issues created by time travel. Our narrator’s ‘expat’ is a man some readers may be familiar with – Graham Gore was a factual Navy Officer who died during the failed Franklin expedition to the Arctic – and in this book, he is revived in fiction twice over, once as a written character (little is known about the real man) and again through the time travel. Graham and our narrator get on quite well and Graham adjusts to the 21st century very well. But our narrator is well aware that she knows little of what’s really going on – she’s in on the secret of the government agency but not the secret’s secret. And as the year goes on and she makes friends with other ‘successful’ expats, she also finds herself feeling more for Graham than she probably should.
The Ministry Of Time is Kaliane Bradley’s phenomenal debut novel and one of the very best books of the year. (Don’t just take my word for it – it’s on many people’s lists.) Blending the sci-fi and fantasy of time travel, with the very real but little-known person of Graham Gore, adding some brilliant moments of comedy, and with some absolutely wonderful writing that manages to be literary and sparse and yet completely accessible, this is a very unique book that provides hours of absolute enjoyment and many moments of poignancy.
As the writing is the first thing this reviewer noted, it’s where we’ll start. When I say it’s literary but accessible I really mean it – Bradley doesn’t use all that much description. The Ministry Of Time is incredibly paired down in words enough that there’s a fair amount of white space within the stack of pages to the point that if it wasn’t for the slight distance you feel due to the way the first person/second person (at one point near the end) is written, you’d tear through this book at a rate of knots. Perhaps that’s the point – in creating a tale in sparse language, Bradley forces you to slow down and savour everything you’re reading, more so really think about what you’re reading. It’s the kind of book that you look forward to picking up every day but are sated enough each reading session to be happy to put it down. It is an incredible reading experience.
Yet none of this means the book lacks description – if I had to choose some words to describe this book I would pick ‘autumnal’ and that is because there are scenes set in autumn that are very immersive. Location, season, and, perhaps naturally, the progression of time, are all things Bradley, via the narrator, spends time on, with the role of ‘bridge’ being about a year long and time perhaps gaining new meaning with its manipulation having been achieved.
The characters are well created and developed – within the sparse framework there is still space to bring fully to life this unlikely band of people. The government agency, the other bridges (I think it’s safe to say that our narrator is fully realised!), the ‘expat’ time travellers. In fact, the sparse prose is very much in Graham Gore’s favour here, with his no-nonsense but caring personality and the way he responds to the many changes our narrator goes through. Their story is wonderfully written. And while the real Graham Gore may not have consented to being the hero of a love story – who knows? – it’s fair to say the representation by Bradley is considered, measured, and respectful. The narrator can be cagey, almost, sometimes, but more often she leaves things to subtext, such as her growing attraction to the man, which she shows in moments, for example, when she says that since living with Graham, her hemlines have lengthened.
The humour arrives with no warning – I think even if, unlike me, you know going in that it is an element of the book (well, you surely do now!), it will still be a surprise how and when it turns up. It’s a type of humour I can’t quite put a name to – not really laugh-out-loud or ‘typical’ British humour – but on occasion hilarious all the same whilst being mainly very… well, I’m going use the word ‘measured’ for a second time in this review. It’s obvious that a lot of work has gone into this book.
A change of tone in the second half brings poignancy, your guesses as to where the book will go perhaps mistaken. This is not to say the book becomes upsetting – it doesn’t – but the humour is dulled a little and a certain urgency and seriousness is slotted beside it.
There are a few keys threads in the novel that need mentioning. First is the look at race and multiculturalism and diversity and passing as white. The narrator, much like Bradley, is half-Cambodian, and she comments on the way people treat her and her family. In a great use of comparison, she speaks of Graham’s saying he can’t go ‘back’ – to the freezing Arctic that without the time travel intervention would’ve killed him – and how she’s always been asked by others if she’s been back to Cambodia, that place her mother had no choice but to leave. And there is a moment towards the end of Graham’s own chapters where different peoples are conflated.
(Graham’s chapters, about his last days in the Arctic, are quite a change from the rest of the narrative, and it takes a while to work out what they are for, exactly, but it’s nice to read Bradley’s nod to the real history. The hardback end papers are of his artwork. His daguerrotype picture, the only one we have, is included at the end.)
Maybe I was tired of stories, telling them and hearing them. I thought the dream was to be post-: post-modern, post-captain, post-racial. Everyone wanted me to talk about Cambodia and I had nothing to teach them about Cambodia. If you learn something about Cambodia from this account, that’s on you. […]
When I first joined the Ministry and they’d pressed me through HR, a woman ran her finger down the column with my family history. ‘What was it like growing up with that?’ she asked. She meant it all: Pol Pot Noodle jokes on first dates, my aunt’s crying jags, a stupa with no ashes, Gary Glitter, Agent Orange, we loved Angkor Wat, regime change, not knowing where the bodies were, Princess Diana, landmines, the passport in my mother’s drawer, my mother’s nightmares, fucking chink, you don’t look it, dragon ladies, fucking paki, Tuol Sleng was a school, Saloth Sar was a teacher, my grandfather’s medals, the firing squad, my uncle’s trembling hands, it’s on my bucket list, Brother Number One, I’ve got a thing for Latinas, the killing fields, The Killing Fields (1984), Angelina Jolie, do you mean Cameroonian? Do you mean Vietnamese? Will you say your name again for me?
I considered.
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘What was it like growing up without it?’
— Kaliane Bradley, The Ministry Of Time, page 182.
Next, history and progress – two subjects stuck together here as a theme.
I didn’t understand that my value system – my great inheritance – was a system, rather than a far point on a neutral, empirical line that represented progress. Things were easier for me than for my mother […] Was this not progress?
— Kaliane Bradley, The Ministry Of Time, page 117.
That history and progress are here and are together is not surprising – many paragraphs deal with a historical figure learning how to do such things as use a kettle or a washing machine, and the narrator is forced to think this way when living with him and also when considering the ministry. This feeds into the threads on climate change – 30 degrees centigrade is a cool day all things considered.
Lastly, there is some interesting intertextuality here with the 1939 novel by Geoffrey Household, Rogue Male. Graham rather likes it. A thriller set in London and dealing with London and dictators and secret police and gunshots, while I haven’t read it myself to comment on it fully, there seems enough commonality between Rogue Male and The Ministry Of Time that readers of the older work will enjoy the mentions in the newer. (I think there may be plot elements that are more similar than the Wikipedia article on Household’s novel makes out.)
The Ministry Of Time is a feat. It’s utterly unique in its writing and very different to other time travel stories, including time travel romances. This review hasn’t done it justice, and trust me, I’ve tried – if you haven’t read it yet then look out because your ‘best of 2024’ list is about to have a new entry at the 11th hour.
Publisher: Sceptre (Hachette)
Pages: 343
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-399-72634-4
First Published: 7th May 2024
Date Reviewed: 2nd October 2024
Eliza Chan – Fathomfolk
Posted 7th October 2024
Category: Reviews Genres: 2020s, Fantasy, Social
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Wishing they could be a bigger part of that world.
Half-siren Mira is the token employee of the Tiankawi Border Guards – she’s made it to captain but she’s got to watch her step, be a model employee and prioritise the example she’s setting as a fathomfolk immigrant in a human land. Water dragon Nami is newly-arrived in Tiankawi; her mother set her the task of finding her dragon pearl, and now Nami is here she’s starting to see the discrimination her people face – she might be sister of the ambassador but his place in society isn’t entirely secure either. And sea-witch Cordelia is wanting bargains, to protect her husband who is unaware he married a fathomfolk and would be furious if he found out, and to protect her children. And all the while a group of disenfranchised youngsters are looking to protest in a way the city will not be able to ignore.
Fathomfolk is an utterly incredible fantasy that has its basis in The Little Mermaid (Mira doesn’t have a singing voice, any more information would spoil the story) and skirts the edges of literary fiction in the way it handles its core subject of immigration; whilst certainly a fantasy (water dragons are folklore after all) it offers a conversation on questions people of different backgrounds ask every day in our real world.
Certainly you can read the book as a straight-out fantasy but reading with consideration to the real world topics in tandem does lend itself to a more interesting experience and, arguably, more enjoyable experience, too. Chan looks at the discrimination migrants face when they leave their homes to travel to a more secure environment – there are asylum aspects here – but also the ‘simple’ act of discrimination caused by people seeing those who are different as bad. This is where my statement about reading this as fantasy or as an allegorical work comes in – on the one hand we have a host of fantastical beings taken from various folklores from around our world, and on the other we have the fact of gills marking people out as not ‘one of us’ (most fathomfolk can shape-shift into human form and often do to make the humans around them feel more comfortable).
To comment on the various folklores, there are the afore-mentioned water dragons, sea-witchs (well, only one in this book), and sirens. There are kelpies and kappas, mermaids – of course – and others. (The main and secondary fathomfolk characters are from the species I’ve named.) This brings a very decent level of diversity to the book by itself, and it’s all set against the backdrop of a quasi-East Asian city, the half-submerged Tiankawi. Location is important – we also see the underwater settlements and some not-so-nice holding places for the incoming migrants of yore – but the characters and people in general are understandably at the forefront.
Plot meets characterisation – it’s safe to say that with, particularly the younger, fathomfolk becoming ever more angry with the situation they are in and distrustful of the humans, there is progression towards change in this book. There are conversations from various sides of the conversational spectrum, workings to change things from the inside out, and various allies. A particularly shocking discovery towards the end that veers into sci-fi territory and has been pretty well hidden by Chan throughout her inferences to something going on, asks further questions. The ending itself could be considered controversial – it won’t please everyone but it definitely keeps the discussion going and holds promise for the second book (this is book one in a duology).
The writing is good, descriptive, and changing when the perspective changes. Chan favours explanatory language and understanding, has a strong handle on when to change the scenery and focus, and does an excellent job of balancing your interest between the three narratives with their different social positions and classes (folk from higher social classes, like dragons, are accepted). You don’t get a human narrative thread, but the secondary characters – both the humans and fathomfolk – fill you in on what you need to know. In terms of pacing, it’s worth noting that the story is fairly slow for approximately the first half in order to allow for characterisation before the second half fully dons the plot and speeds things up.
Where we have the resistance group we have another side of the story, again balanced well. The Drawbacks allow Chan to contrast moderation and extremism, giving the latter a fair say and placement to explain themselves whilst comparing them to the others. There’s also a thread about manipulation and how far people will go for their cause and leader.
There is a romance. It’s far from a main event – Fathomfolk is not a romantasy – but it lends itself to further Chan’s main points while never getting bogged down in them.
As you might be able to tell from this decidedly lacklustre review, it’s difficult to talk about this book without getting close to spoilers, so I’m going to stop here. This is a book for anyone who likes the sound of the basic premise and fantasy in general. And as to the topics involved, I’m creating the phrase ‘literary plus’ – I think the content here will interest a fair few people who tend to stick to literary fiction, too.
Publisher: Orbit (Hachette)
Pages: 417
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-0-356-52239-5
First Published: 27th February 2024
Date Reviewed: 29th September 2024
Jennifer Saint – Atalanta
Posted 24th November 2023
Category: Reviews Genres: 2020s, Adventure, Commentary, Fantasy, Historical
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Jennifer Saint wondered why she had never written about Atalanta before. Here was this mythological character that so few people have heard of – everyone knows about the Argonauts, but not about the one woman who joined them. Jennifer set about changing that. (She also liked the idea of an adventure story – her previous novel, Elektra, was full of tragedy.)
Left on a mountaintop as a baby because her father wanted a son, Atalanta was first raised by a mother bear and then taken in by the goddess Artemis, who introduced Atalanta to her forest and the devoted nymphs who resided there under her protection. There was just one rule – no men. Atalanta becomes an incredible warrior and the fastest runner there ever was; when Jason and his Argonauts set about their journey, Artemis tells Atalanta to join them as her champion. The group of heroes don’t want a woman in their midst and Atalanta isn’t sure about it all, either, but she agrees to go.
Atalanta is a retelling of a classic tale. Arguably the author’s best book yet, it’s a compelling story that will have you flipping pages quickly no matter how much you already know of the character.
This book is a little mix-and-match by its very origins – there are a few different storylines of Atalanta’s life (there’s even an entirely different story about an Atalanta who may or may not have been the same person) and then Saint has added elements that are purely hers, such as the ending which has been studied in a way that reflects the author’s and our present day interpretations and thoughts.
Given that Saint has focused on a woman, a woman forgotten at that, there is a lot in this book that has been fleshed out and detailed in ways not seen before. As in Elektra (and no doubt Ariadne – it’s just that this reviewer hasn’t read the latter) Saint never shies away from the dark matter of the stories, in fact, all the more so in Atalanta she uses them to examine things left unsaid. As an example, when the nymph Callisto, who had sworn herself to celibacy to stay in Artemis’s forest, is raped and made pregnant by Zeus, Artemis casts her out, laying a hand on her and transforming her into a bear. It is in how Saint then goes on to explore what these various mythological plot points mean that the story excels – in this example, why cast out Callisto, why when Artemis is the goddess who looks after women in labour (though we know that’s a big part of why she wants her followers to be chaste), and then why make Callisto a bear (in terms of the wider themes of the story)?
Leaving spoilers there – that one will be it for this review – it’s fair to say that Saint’s theme work drives this book. Plot is important, character is important, but it’s the themes and the question of ‘why?’ that make this novel what it is. The ‘because’ also plays a role and Saint looks at both the historical context of this fantasy story, and how we view mythology in our present day, how we add our own, newer, contexts into the stories to continue adding to the history of them – how mythology is important still, and why it is is something that is paramount to Saint’s work in general.
One particular theme is motherhood – what makes a good mother? What is a mother? There are so many bad mothers in Greek mythology and here Saint has a chance to really examine that from many angles – yes, the bears in this book are one of them. Freedom is another theme – Saint explores this through Atalanta’s home, her devotion to Artemis, her relationship with men as a gender, and her family.
I’m going to make a special, out of left field mention of Jason – Saint shows us Jason in a different light than his name being in ‘and the Argonauts’ suggests. He’s not much of a hero… or a sailor… or a leader.
The book ends on a triumph, with Saint using the original and then doing some level of interpretation that will not be defined here – you’ll have to read it for yourself – but closes the novel on a wonderful note.
Atalanta is a brilliant retelling and expansion of an ancient story. You don’t need to know about the original stories but you may want to have some level of grounding in them in order to fully appreciate what the author has done (Wikipedia will do if you’ve little time). It has set the bar ever higher for Saint’s next book – she’ll undoubtedly pass it – and is more than fine company for your reading time.
Publisher: Wildfire (Hachette)
Pages: 354
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-472-29215-5
First Published: 11th April 2023
Date Reviewed: 22nd November 2023
Sylvia Mercedes – Daughter Of Shades
Posted 19th August 2022
Category: Reviews Genres: 2010s, Fantasy, Theological
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Defying her destiny.
Publisher: Self-published
Pages: 408
Type: Fiction
Age: Young Adult
ISBN: 978-1-942-37925-6
First Published: 28th July 2019
Date Reviewed: 21st June 2022
Ayleth is a Venatrix who hunts Shades – a woman of the Evandarian Order, her soul, in keeping with the needs of her Order but at odds with the rest of humanity, is intrinsically linked, inside her body, to that of a being from the Haunts. She and her Shade, Laranta, hunt other Shade-taken bodies to rid the earth of the evil beings. Ayleth’s worked with Hollis for a long time; until one day she finds out about an opening in another borough, a job requiring a lot of experience to keep the Crimson Devils and Witchwood from gaining further power, and she decides to travel to petition the Golden Prince for the role. That she’ll be up against more experienced Evandarians doesn’t phase her – she wants this. And when she comes across a wandering servant of the prince and saves his life, he spurs her on.
Daughter Of Shades is the first in a seven-book Young Adult fantasy series about hosts of so-thought (and maybe actually, who knows yet) evil beings, the personal journeys of our young heroes, and questions of religious truth. An easy, fast-paced read, it has echoes of successful previous publications such as Stephenie Meyer’s The Host in terms of its basic concept and, for its questions of religion, a slight resemblance to Northern Lights dealt with in a new way.
We’ll start with the pacing – it’s quick. Mercedes uses easy language that ensures a swift read-through and, however much Ayleth is the be-all-end-all in this book, the plot is a determining factor. It helps that Mercedes sticks to this plot – there are no extraneous scenes and little in the way of banter or anything that would keep the book going just to keep it going. There are moments when the previously seemingly very mature heroine gets a little silly, however this is coming from a reviewer that is an adult; whilst many readers of this book will likely also be adults, the recommended age is teenage so these ‘blips’ make sense. (This is in fact a compliment to the author – the book is heaps of fun for the older audience too.) There is a good balance between showing and necessary telling.
Most things are introduced in this book to get us started on the right foot ready for the continuation later – the religious questions we know are going to follow Ayleth are included here in a matter of sentences to give you an idea of where the series might go, as are the other factors of romance and general development. (That the religion has similarities with Christianity but sports a goddess is intriguing in itself.)
The romance is worth noting – for this book at least (because it’s obvious by the end) there is a fair amount of time wherein the reader isn’t sure who will be the love interest and it’s done with aplomb, Mercedes managing to make a relatively simple question into a compelling element whilst also assuring you there will be no stereotypical triangle as per Young Adult in years past.
The characters are well-developed for the scope of the book, there aren’t too many and secondary characters are nicely few and far between.
It’s worth noting that whilst there is an ending to this book, the second is effectively recommended by the text – the first part of what may or may not be the defining element of the series reaches a half-closed half-open point, leaning heavily on open. It’s also worth noting that book two starts immediately where book one finishes, which will be a welcome change for many (there are few repetitions) but do indeed mean that if you enjoy this book you’re going to want to buy the other six in the series and likely sign up to the author’s newsletter to get the prequel.
Daughter Of Shades is an incredibly strong beginning, a fantasy tale with a small journey but mostly personal development, and a good example of progression in a genre as a whole.