When The Moon Was Ours is a mesmerising magical realism that reminds us fairy tales are and magic belong to everyone, regardless of your ra
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When The Moon Was Ours is a mesmerising magical realism that reminds us fairy tales are and magic belong to everyone, regardless of your race, gender, or sexuality. Written in exquisite prose and narrated in rhythmic cadence, here is an audio book I would recommend to anyone who’s ever felt different and unheard. MOON is imbued with love, hope, and dream. It’s the perfect respite from a world filled with intolerance and fear. Given the devastating result of the US elections, we need books and voices like MOON in our lives, now more than ever.
MOON begins with a girl who lost the moon, and a boy who fights every day to bring its light back into her life. The story of Miel and Sam is one well known to their town, turned mythic and strange with numerous retellings. However, the narration takes us beyond the fairy tale of a girl made from water and a boy named Moon. It shows us all the players in the tale in all of their messy, complicated glory. Through the journey these characters undergo, MOON brings in questions that challenges perception of culture, gender identity, and family.
They would remember only that Miel and Sam had been called Honey and Moon, a girl and boy woven into the folklore of this place.
While magical realism is one of my favourite genres, I often find it hard to connect to the characters in these books because they seem stranger than life. This was not the case with MOON. I could identify and empathise with Miel in spite of her numerous secrets, and despite of the roses that perpetually sprout from a wound on her wrist. She lives life on the margins, with the town never quite forgetting her mysterious origin or her roses. I loved seeing her relationship with Aracely shifted and changed, as it constantly redefined the meaning of family. Miel is insecure and often fearful, but she also has a strong core of compassion that guides her every decision – making her a remarkable and memorable heroine.
I love Miel, but it was Sam who totally stole the show for me. Sam is a transgender boy of Pakistani heritage, chapters of his narration contained the beauty of his culture and his paintings – but it also carried his inner conflict and confusion. Ever since he was little, Sam and his mother has used the practice of bacha posh as an excuse for Sam’s identity. MOON explores and challenges that excuse, taking us up close and personal to Sam’s acceptance of his identity. This is a topic close to the Anna-Marie McLemore’s heart, and you can feel her love in every beautifully written sentence. I have to thank her for sharing this deeply personal story with us.
The closer she got to him, the more she felt it in her roses, like a moon pulling on a sea.
MOON is a true sensory experience, with words conjuring up images of moonlit night skies and foiled stars on summer skin. It invades the senses with the scent of spices from Aracely’s kitchen, with the sound of deep rushing water. The writing in MOON is consistently beautiful, but it shined brightest when the focus was on the relationship between Sam and Miel. Where shared glances and touches are seared into the reader’s mind with vivid prose, and feelings are explored in languid, earnest words. Their love was at once slow burning tension and ignited passion, and I thought the book portrayed their relationship beautifully.
The plot in MOON is secondary to its exploration of the character and their development. Nonetheless, I was intrigued by the Bonner sisters and their motives. These girls could have easily turned into caricature villains under a less subtle hand, but MOON manages to grant most of them their own characteristics and inner turmoil. The book was quite slow paced, but I think it was fitting given the embellished, lush writing style.
The audiobook used dual narrators, a male and a female voice, for MOON. I loved both narrators – I felt they captured Miel’s passion and Sam’s calm perfectly. The book’s ornate storytelling also translated very well into an audio experience, it was like hearing someone tell me a deeply personal fairy tale of their life. While I would love to get my hands on a hard copy of the book to tab all my favourite passages soon – I would also highly recommend the audio book.
Finally, I would like to leave you with the dedication page lifted directly from the book, seeing it was what initially convinced me to purchase the novel – and I hope you will feel the same:
To the boys who get called girls, the girls who get called boys, and those who live outside these words. To those called names, and those searching for names of their own. To those who live on the edges, and in the spaces in between. I wish for you every light in the sky.
What a pitch perfect and beautiful dedication, and I wish the very same to all you beautiful people out there. You deserve to be heard, you deserve magic, you deserve a happy ending – don’t you let the world tell you otherwise.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Note: This review will contain spoilers for the prequelDisclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.
Note: This review will contain spoilers for the prequel The Long Way To A Small, Angry Planet. Common Orbit can be read as a standalone, although you will be spoiled for part of Small Angry Planet’s ending.
I read Small Angry Planet earlier on this year and it catapulted into my all time favourite list, it’s a scifi bursting with heart and soul. Needless to say, I have been anticipating the release of Common Orbit ever since.
Companion novels are a mixed beast for me, although I love revisiting the world, I am always afraid I won’t love it as much as the original if the characters I grew to love are no longer around. My fears were quickly dispelled as Common Orbit prove to retain all the heart that made me love Small Angry Planet. It also stood on its own two feet as an excellent, thought provoking novel that examines the meaning of family and identity.
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Common Orbit follows directly from the ending of Small Angry Planet, featuring two side characters from the prequel book: the newly rebooted Lovelace (I will call her by her preferred name: Sidra, from here on out), and Enhanced mechanic Pepper. Bringing these two together was a stroke of genius, as they both sit on the fringe of the society the Galactic Commons have created.
As an AI, Sidra struggles with claiming her agency and identity. A similar story emerges as we become privy to Pepper’s past as one of several Enhanced (eugenic children, designed to perfectly serve and perform a singular task) working in a nameless factory. While Small Angry Planet was a story of found family and coexistence amongst different species, Common Orbit pushes at the boundaries and rules of that society. It’s about two young girls, grappling and expanding the idea of humanity – especially in the context to their interactions with others around them.
I found both storylines introduced in this book engaging, although I have to say I enjoyed Sidra’s portion a little more as we got to explore the Galactic Commons in further details. We learned a lot about the Aandrisks in Small Angry Planet, thanks to the beautiful Sissix. In this book, we got to see more of the silent Aeluon’s society – and their delightful and fluid approach to gender and sexuality. Watching Sidra learn to assimilate to society, while retaining her core identity was endlessly fascinating , especially the disconnect she feels between her AI mind and artificial body kit. The book manages to make the reader separate Sidra’s mind from her form, and for us to consider AI not only when they’re in a humanoid body – but also when they’re inhabiting entire ships. Becky Chambers brought up several questions that I had never even thought of asking! If you’re a sucker for ‘the ghost in the machine’ type story, you will absolutely love this book.
Pepper’s story was engrossing in a completely different manner, the plotline was part dystopia, part survivor story a la Robin Crusoe and The Martian. The rapport that Pepper built with Owl is one of the best relationships across both books, I love how Becky Chambers managed to pack so much emotion into so few pages. Seeing an AI teach a lost girl how to become human? Simply delightful! I also enjoyed the shift in tone and language employed as Pepper aged throughout the book, her voice always felt very authentic to me as a reader.
While I absolutely loved the book, I wished we got more time to build up to its conclusion. The last 10% of this book felt slightly rushed, especially in comparison to Becky Chambers’s track record for considered and nuanced writing. Nonetheless, I cannot thank her enough for bringing us this universe, filled diversity, tolerance, and lovable characters. I have my fingers and toes crossed for another book released in this world – I just can’t get enough.
If you’re ever feeling down in the dumps over the state of the world, go run to your nearest book shop and grab yourself a copy of this series. It’s definitely cemented itself as my favourite scifi series in a long time....more
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from Allen & Unwin/Bloomsbury Australia in exchange for an honest review.
Needless to say, after finishing QDisclaimer: I received a copy of this book from Allen & Unwin/Bloomsbury Australia in exchange for an honest review.
Needless to say, after finishing Queen of Shadows last year, Empire of Storms became one of my most anticipated books of 2016. I was over the moon when I received it, and despite its hefty size, I devoured the entire thing in three days in between working full time. Currently, I am still reeling from the emotional punches the book delivered, but I will try my best to deliver a coherent review. This will be completely spoiler-free for Empire of Storms, but will contain spoilers for its prequels.
I keep coming back to this series time and again because Sarah J. Maas is the master of page-turning action and wringer of my heartstrings. Empire of Storms is no different, filled to the brim with engaging action, careful plot twist, and amplified emotional drama. I would highly recommend reading this book over a couple of days off, as I had troubles putting it down from beginning to end.
Empire of Storms is also the book where we begin to see Sarah J. Maas’s master plan for the series fall into place, with appearances from both old friends and foes. I had always felt that the first two books of the series were disparate in both tone and spirit, making me question the fluency of the series when viewed as a whole. With this book, the issue is resolved as the plot threads left all over the series begin to tie together. The intertwining of all the narrative arcs in this book was immensely satisfying, and made me want to reach to my shelf and reread the series again from the beginning.
While we got to see familiar and well-loved faces in Empire of Storm, the book also treats us to insights to characters previously left on the sideline. I have always marveled at Sarah J. Maas’s ability to quickly develop relationships, both romantic and platonic, that I become wholly invested in. There are times in this book where I was moved to tears by characters I formerly did not care for. With every book, I love the huge cast of character a little more – and I am already mourning that I will have to say good bye to everyone in 2017 whe the series concludes.
Following the fashion of the rest of the books in the series, Empire of Storms continue to follow a multitude of point of views – treating us to numerous perspective on Aelin’s perilous journey to rebuild her kingdom. The book felt more focused than its predecessors, being honed in on Aelin’s story in particular and taking little asides to other parts of the kingdom. Consequently, some of the previous regulars received little to no page-time in this novel. While I was disappointed by the disappearance of certain characters, I have a strong feeling that we will get to see the full cast in all of their glory in the final novel – and I am willing to be patient.
Aelin absolutely shines in this novel, I grow to love her more with every passing book. While she has matured and grown into a role as the Queen of Terrasen, she also retained that Sardothien swagger and sharp-tongue. What I enjoyed the most was seeing the relationships she has forged over the years, and the length she would go to in order to protect those she loves. Although she continues to develop into the kingdom’s most powerful wielder of magic, she still retains the vulnerabilities and humanity that made her so relatable from the beginning.
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Love continues to be the dominant force that drives the series, alongside with Aelin’s momentous task. As such, we are treated to an array of budding and developing romance over the course of this novel. At times, I felt that some of the pairings were unnecessary – I personally believe that a character can be happy and whole even in the absence of romantic love. Regardless, I have my shipper’s hat firmly on for a certain new pairing, they became the source of both my joy and my tears for much of this book.
Don’t mistake the abundance of romance for saccharine and safety, though. War is at hand, and this book went to very dark places. It’s definitely the most brutal and bloody of the Throne of Glass series, with numerous scenes that left me in a panic for the fate of some beloved characters. Sarah J. Maas does not pull any punches here, and we are treated to the full brunt of every difficult decision, every single act of violence.
Speaking of tears, let me tell you that fans of the series will not emerge this novel unscathed. By the end of the book, the plot, the characters, and their individual relationships, had reeled me in so completely that I spent the entirety of Sunday dazed. Some part of me wished that I discovered the series after it finished, so I would not have to deal with waiting in agony for September 2017. For now, I will content myself with rereading everything....more
Once upon a time, there was twelve princesses. No, wait. There was only one princess, and one prince. They snuck out of the house at night and danced Once upon a time, there was twelve princesses. No, wait. There was only one princess, and one prince. They snuck out of the house at night and danced in the moonlight.
Firstly, I would like to say that Amy Zhang can write. I found out that she’s currently in her teens – which is at once astonishing and thrilling, as I can’t wait to read what she pens next. Her proses are simple yet lyrical, cutting you right to the bone with each sentence. With This Is Where The World Ends, Zhang also employs imageries wonderfully – alluding to both fairy tales and apocalypses with poetic ease. Although the book is realistic fiction and strictly confines itself to the contemporary world – the whimsical nature of the writing pushes past these boundaries. At times, it felt like I was reading magical realism, which is one of my favourite genres!
They press and press information, but my brain is liquid. The touch the surface and it ripples and then it goes blank again.
The set up of the plot is also endlessly intriguing. I devoured this book in about two hours in my eagerness to get to the bottom of its mystery. It alternates between two point of views and timeline. Firstly: Micah’s present narrative: desperate to piece together the night of the fire – although his mind has been hopelessly altered by the event. Secondly: Janie’s everyday girl musings of the events leading up to the incident. We also get glimpses of Janie’s fairy tale journal – complete with intricate Skarpie (it’s cheaper than Sharpier!) doodles – and a perfect echo of her chaotic, imaginative and inimitable soul. It was a great analogy for the events in her life – and by the time you finish this book, you’ll understand that metaphors are everything to Janie.
She always kept a marker and a match and at least five rocks in her pocket: the marker to write, the match to wish and burn, and the rock to keep her grounded.
While it should be quite obvious that I was smitten by the writing and the structure of the narrative, the book falters when it comes to characterisation. I truly struggled to relate to Janie – she was a dichotomy: part manic pixie dream girl, part spoilt rich kid caricature. Janie believes in fire and permanent markers and solid rock. Janie believes in art and self-expression. Janie believes that Micah is her soulmate. Yet, Janie is also trapped in the makings of societal expectations. She dates popular jocks and hangs out in what self-stylised ‘convenient friendships’. She refuses to acknowledge Micah’s existence at school. She lives according to the very rules that she despises. Small acts of rebellion aside, Janie was quite the hypocrite. Of course, that was the point and the tragedy of it all – but I just did not find her endearing. I felt that we needed to get into her head space a little more – as I was never truly invested.
She said that we shared a soul. What does that mean? She said that we were an atom. I don’t know, Dewey. I think she’s crazy.
Then there’s Micah, who’s passive personality grates me to no end. He simultaneously assumed to role of childhood love, soulmate, and nice guy – always there for Janie but never having his love reciprocated fully. All he gets are stolen moments in the dead of the night, as they played at being Justice around town. Micah constantly allowed himself to be manipulated by Janie – every time he seems to be free from her influences, he slips right back in. It’s an uncomfortable, almost abusive relationship – with Micah being equally at complicit. He lacked his own identity and was constantly being moulded and lead by Janie.
No one is going to believe me. No one is going to help because no one is going to listen, because he told his story first and he told it better.
However, just as the book is meandering on about what seems to surmount to a teenage love triangle – the book sucker punches you with its main theme: probably readily apparent to anyone who has looked at the cover in detail. Janie’s tragedy is not confined to an identity crisis or her selfishness – she also becomes a victim of slut shaming and sexual assault. The book offers no easy way out and solution, instead – we are faced with the full brunt of the ugliest side to high school bullying. It’s difficult and uncomfortable, it gets under your skin. Needless to say, the book is not one for the faint-hearted.
Despite the book’s heavy issues and grand mystery – my conflicting feelings regarding characterisation and relationships meant that I was robbed of the book’s climactic impact. I have the sneaking suspicion the book wanted me at some corner in foetal position by its conclusion – instead, I was dry-eyed and felt somewhat cheated of my emotional catharsis. This book could have been so much more, I wanted it to be so much more!
Aside from my issues with characterisation – I think this is one beautifully written novel. As the issues and character dynamics the novel deal with is so extreme, I think you’ll have to check this one out yourself before passing your verdict....more
You can't imagine how happy I am to announce that I liked The Forbidden Wish -I have been having an awful 2016 reading wise, this little gem was so reYou can't imagine how happy I am to announce that I liked The Forbidden Wish -I have been having an awful 2016 reading wise, this little gem was so refreshing. Amongst a sea of tepid heroines and a distinct lack of strong female bonds, The Forbidden Wish shone bright.
Trends favouring fairy tale retelling is still going strong this year. Lately, they tend to veer towards non-Western setting and stories - something that excites me endlessly. I would take Aladdin, Sinbad and Scheherazade over Snow White any day of the week. The world this novel explores is rich is mythology and tales. Our protagonist is the very stuff of legend, being a jinni who brought about the fall of a once glorious kingdom. The narrative alternates between her regretful thoughts on the past, and how time and telling have twisted the story. Was Zahra a deceitful jinni, or was she another victim of love and cruelty? I loved seeing the contrast between her account and the version of the take Aladdin was familiar with - and how we teased out the truth in the end.
The thing I love the most about The Forbidden Wish is its female characters, and their relationships to one another. Although most of the trappings of the story is heavily centred around a romance, we get heroines and side female characters who have their own agency and motivation unrelated to Aladdin. Even while we saw Zahra became more merciful and attached to Aladdin, her emotions were possible because of Roshana - a queen she once loved like a sister. Zahra's guilt and nostalgia for the relationship she once had with Roshana provided a lot of incentive for her initial interactions with Aladdin, including one which saved his life. While Roshana was long gone by the time this novel started, the book did a great job illustrating the powerful bond between queen and jinni. Despite the passing of half a millenia, the ghost of Roshana still motivated and inspire Zahra, as she did when she was alive. Aladdin was not the first human Zahra loved, Aladdin was not the first human who wished for her to be free - it was Roshana! How awesome is that? I can't even put it into words!
Princess Caspida and her Watchmaidens were also delightful as side female characters. The Forbidden Wish could have easily took the predictable and easy route: making Caspida vie for Aladdin's attention, making her gang of girls malicious and mean, turning Zahra into a poor and bullied servant. However, what we got instead was a lovely subversion of expectations. Caspida is far more interested in the welfare of her kingdom and people, romance is the very last thing on her mind and she barely spares Aladdin a second thought. Instead, she develops a much more meaningful and complex relationship with Zahra. Her Watchmaidens are steadfast and loyal, although they're no adoring, thoughtless cronies. They each have their own opinions and personality, their interactions were a delight to see. It's so refreshing to see female characters build one another up! I need more of this in not just YA, but in all fiction!
The heart of the story lies in a forbidden romance blooming between Aladdin and his mysterious jinni. As you might have noticed with my past reviews, I don't tend to do well with romance-centric books - while shipping is essential to me, I find it more enjoyable if there was a bigger picture to the story. However, I found myself quite invested in the romance of The Forbidden Wish - because, let's face it, I'm a sucker for forbidden romances. I had initial reservations about the master-jinni relationship - but these were quickly dashed when Zahra rapidly asserted herself as a cunning, malevolent force who was capable of calling the shots, regardless of who was holding the lamp. Aladdin was her equal, challenging her at every turn with his razor sharp wit and street smarts. Together, they made a fearsome duo. Theirs was first and foremost a friendship, with the romance coming in a slow and steady burn. I love characters who have to learn to trust one another - especially when it culminates in steamy makeout scenes.
Another thing I found utterly fascinating about The Forbidden Wish was how Aladdin was never the revolutionary, which goes against all expectations. When rumours of The Phoenix rising to help the weak and poor - my eyes almost rolled out of my head. Yet, the book once again crumbles my prejudice by presenting Aladdin - who has lost faith in the fight. Zahra was similarly disenchanted due to her 500 years long imprisonment, and millenia long servitude to Nardukha. Instead, it was the lovely Caspida who spearheaded the revolution, who did not need anyone to be her symbol - she would do fine enough ruling on her own, even without the help of the protagonists - thank you very much.
The writing and pacing of this book was also excellent, I finished the book in two sittings - stopping only for compulsory Netflix breaks (How To Get Away With Murder keeps ending on horrible cliffhangers, you guys!). There was constant momentum in the plot, driven mainly by Aladdin and Zahra's audacious plot to pass the former off as a foreign prince. Although the plot was in constant motion, it also paused plenty of time to allow for character developments and some important themes. I loved seeing our protagonist find their own identity amidst the chaos. I also really enjoyed the book's take on the themes of freedom, using Zahra's bond to the lamp as a grand metaphor for choices.
I would highly recommend The Forbidden Wish based on the quality of female relationships alone- however, it also has great romance, beautiful writing and a grand plot to match! What are you waiting for?! ...more
I was positively gleeful when I received my copy of Fellside in the mail, being a huge fan of M. R. Carey's first book: The Girl With All The Gifts. CI was positively gleeful when I received my copy of Fellside in the mail, being a huge fan of M. R. Carey's first book: The Girl With All The Gifts. Comparing the two work is a pointless task, as they're completely separate entities. Yet, Fellside retains the element I loved most from Girl: an unsettling glimpse into humanity's psyche - especially at our lowest point.
While I was reading Fellside, I could not help but be reminded of Orange Is The New Black - another story which analyses the lives of women in confinement. Although Fellside is Jess Moulson's story first and foremost, we also delve into the thoughts of the prison's various inmates and staff members. These are all people who have made some terrible choices in the past, at times - they're downright despicable. Nonetheless, their animal-like survival instinct, compounded with their undeniable humanity makes for a compelling, if at times harrowing read. In spite of my disdain for certain residents in Fellside, these characters are recognisable through their very human errors and greed.
Although Fellside belies a tale of humanity's triumphs and tragedies, the story which propels it forward is a dramatic thriller. Jess Moulson is incarcerated for the death of 10-years-old Alex Beech, she supposedly set fire to her apartment complex while under the influence of heroin. Prior to these events, Jess's life was already falling apart - she was a long-term junkie stuck in an abusive relationship. Alex's death was the final nail in her coffin, and Jess succumbs to shame and guilt, completely willing to be arrested for this crime despite having no recollection of the night's events. For the first third of the novel, Jess also loses her will to live - and it takes the ghost of Alex to push her back from the precipice. His ghost empowers Jess towards the path of redemption and justice.
Jess quickly becomes married to her new cause, and she serves as an excellent foil to the rest of the cast - who have long lost their own moral compass. Even though Jess encounters a plethora of physical and emotional violence during her time in Fellside, she remains true to her newfound integrity. M. R. Carey never strays to being preachy, instead - Jess's resolve stay solidly earnest - devoted to her cause in a way only someone given a second chance at life could be. Her encounters with the corruption within Fellside is at once provoking and intimate - making readers question the true meaning of justice.
The other characters, while never as sympathetic as Jess, are equally compelling. There's the formidable and ruthless Grace, who maintains an iron grip over her fellow inmates - and will go to all lengths necessary to keep her metaphorical throne. Grace is backed by the volatile and savage Lizzy, who's brutality conceals a haunting past. Then there's Dennis Devlin, aptly named The Devil by inmates of Fellside, he gives a new definition to the phrase 'power corrupts'. Dr. Salazar drew from me both pity and disappointment, a good man who falls into line systematic corruption - his flaws are entirely too human to be comfortable. Minor characters such as Sharon McBride and Sylvie Stock are also given life of their own albeit their short page-time. The characters play in concert to deliver a tale that will at once provoke and resonate.
Fellside also incorporates a healthy dose of supernatural elements into its plotline. In fact, it's Alex's ghost who ultimately drive the story forward and challenge the residents of Fellside. His presence provides much-needed introspection in a space mired with distrust and cruelty. As Jess's sole companion in Fellside, most of her character development takes place during her metaphysical conversations with Alex. Notwithstanding these fantastical elements, the story remains grounded in reality - most of the horror perpetrated in the novel are works of the living.
My account of Fellside might leave you thinking the book is as grim and uninviting as the maximum security prison where it's set. However, Jess's bleak circumstances gives rise to an ultimately uplifting story about redemption. While Jess's defense lawyers fight for her release from Fellside - Jess is after a different sort of freedom. She seeks to unburden from her past and deliver justice on her own terms. In the process, Jess proves time and again that people are not always what they seem.
With Fellside, M. R. Carey proves that he's a chameleon, able to juggle a multitude of genres expertly. Although Fellside was completely different from The Girl With All The Gifts - both books left me pondering long after I turned the final pages....more
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