#sffbookclub

I'm still not really sure about this book. I should probably reread it since I think I went to fast and missed some things. It was definitely interesting, but it seemed like there were too many characters for such a short work. None of the characters or the world itself were given much depth. #SFFBookClub

Moon of the Turning Leaves was an enjoyable follow-up to Moon of the Crusted Snow. (Every month can be #SFFBookClub sequel month if you want it to be.) If the first book was about turning inwards and more immediate survival, then this second book feels much more about turning outwards. I liked that it explains a little bit more about the what and why of the events outside their community. That said, this too is not a book directly concerned about answering these questions, and its focus remains on community and survival.

It feels akin to other post-apocalyptic journey stories, about survival, strangers, and trust. Nangohns represents the younger generation and to me feels like the focal point of the book. I love her growth into more authority, and especially her speech a third of the way into the book that convinces everyone to keep going. If I had a disappointment, it's that narratively it felt a bit too straightforward, and that the climax of the book has one outcome that felt somewhat contrived even if thematically on point.

I suggested this for #SFFBookClub, and so I gave this a reread so I could enjoy it again. I love the way this novel takes Hollywood and its obsession with stars and all of its racism and homophobia, and mixes it with fey magical realism. Overall, it's definitely a book whose strengths are in its setting and its writing, rather than in a tight plot, but I still love the characters.

In particular, probably my favorite part of this book are the constant turns of phrase that bring in fey elements at unexpected times. You're just reading along and then you get hit with a line like "The cameras were better now, I told myself. They had tamed them down, fed them better." Silent movies steal people's voices. Film stars are (ambiguously but also maybe literally) stars in the sky and wield their star power. Names are sacrificed, or hidden for protection. These pieces give the story some extra teeth and a darker edge of danger that always feels present at the margins. The extra ambiguity over what's real in a story about movie magic is delicious.

I have mixed feelings about parts of the end, especially with the trip to San Francisco. I think this is probably the part where the novel loses me a little bit. The pieces work well, but the pacing is a little jarring. It's nice to have a moment to come full circle to Luli's sister, the reveal of art outside of Hollywood that Luli has been too tunnel-visioned to see, and the continuing contrast of the realness of Tara and other places with the fey world of movies. I like the depth that this journey adds, and I'm not sure where else arguably in the novel that it would go.

"What so great about being seen?" Tara demanded. "What's so important about that?"

She might have had the words for it, but I didn't. They locked up in my throat, about being invisible, about being alien and foreign and strange even in the place where I was born, and about the immortality that wove through my parents' lives but ultimately would fail them. Their immortality belonged to other people, and I hated that.

One thing I saw in this reread was how much the book played with "being seen": fey bargains to get seen in pictures; pressure about being seen in "wrong" ways; being mis-seen as Mexican instead of Venezuelan; being asked to make do things to be seen as straight and married; the fear of being seen as crossing class lines or being seen as queer and butch.

I read this for the #SFFBookClub January book pick. How High We Go in the Dark is a collection of interconnected short stories dealing with death, grief, and remembrance in the face of overwhelming death and a pandemic. Despite getting very dark, I was surprised at the amount of hopefulness to be found in the face of all of this.

It was interesting to me that this collection had been started much earlier and the Arctic plague was a later detail to tie everything together. Personally, I feel really appreciative of authors exploring their own pandemic-related feelings like this; they're certainly not often comfortable feelings, but it certainly helps me personally, much more than the avoidance and blinders song and dance that feels on repeat everywhere else in my life.

It's hard for me to evaluate this book as a whole. I deeply enjoyed the structural setup, and seeing background characters narrate their own chapters added quite a bit of emotional nuance. Pig Son especially would have hit differently without the background from a few chapters earlier. Some of the stories were quite full of knives, but my one complaint is that some stories in the back half felt like retreading similar grounds of grief and remembrance; they just didn't have the same level of impact for me. Both the final chapter and the title-generating chapter were thematically strong, but didn't quite carry the same level of emotional weight or closure that I wanted. I am not sure subjectively why I felt this way, but I think this is some of the flipside of its short story nature--that there's only a consistent emotional thread running through the book rather than a character or plot arc.

I'm really glad to have read this, and feel like a lot of these stories and feelings are going to stick with me for a long while.

This is in the same universe as The Space Between Worlds, but the main characters from that book purportedly only make limited appearances, which is disappointing to me. I was drawn to the characters in that book far more than the world. #SFFBookClub

This third book was a great send-off to the Daevabad series. The ending did a good job of coming all the way back around (in several ways) to how the whole book started. It filled in historical details that previous books been teasing. Mostly though, it was an emotionally satisfying ending that neatly wrapped up the stories of the major characters. I think a lot of the politics I enjoyed from the earlier books fell away into more personal dynamics and larger plot happenings, but I think that shift worked here for a final third climactic book.

My single favorite part of this book were some of the new side characters. Fiza!!! Sobek!!! Mishmish!!! Fiza deserves her own book, just sayin'.

Overall, this series is not some Sandersonian book where details about the world and magic are eventually explained to a wikiable degree. At the end, there's still quite a few unanswered questions about history, the world, and especially around magic itself: the ring, the nature of several resurrections spoilery handwave, the lawyer parrots. In the end, these elements are ultimately not the focus of this story (in the way the three major characters are) and ultimately the ambiguity and uncertainty don't get in the way of the story that's being told here. (Although, folks who want these kinds of details might be disappointed.)

I wrote about the last book that I wanted more Aqisa and Zaynab and so I was delighted that my ebook had some extra bonus scenes with them that were edited out of the book. It makes me excited to go read River of Silver and get a little bit more taste of this world and the characters before I'm done with it.

I have some additional comments that have mild spoilers, which I will put in this reply.

cc #SFFBookClub for November sequel month

The Library of the Dead is the October #SFFBookClub pick. Overall, this was just ok for me.

Ropa is a scrappy fourteen year old dropout who is supporting her family as best she can by charging for passing messages from the dead to the living with her necromantic telepathy. She ends up taking on a pro bono case to find the child of a ghost at the behest of her Gran. I think my favorite part of the novel is that Ropa's got a frenetic teenage voice that goes a long way to carry the novel.

One element that didn't work for me is that this novel is clearly the first book in a series. It's laying out a lot of threads to pick up later. The Tall Man. The Library of the Dead itself. Gran and her magic. Sir Callander's motives and relationship with Ropa's Gran. Gran herself. The everyThere. This near future Edinburgh that's had a catastrophe of some sort and is decaying and flooded. The authoritarian King that gets invoked at every turn.

But the end result of all of these threads is that this book feels a bit haphazard and the plot feels loose. Some of the threads tie up to resolve the mystery that Ropa is chasing down, but a large part of the book's work feels unresolved and preparing for the rest of the series rather than furthering the main plot of the moment.

If anything, the titular Library of the Dead feels like an optional side quest that's not quite as relevant to the plot as the title might imply. Sure, Ropa gets some magical defense and offense there incidentally but I was surprised by how little the plot hinged on this. This is not a book about the library or about learning magic. (In the end, I'm not even sure I understand why this magical library was a library "of the Dead" either.)

I've been wanting to read this for a while, and now seems like the best time since it is the May selection of #SFFBookClub.