I was promised a weird, suspenseful psychological thriller assessing crime and tackling dark themes, and I was not disappointed! I honestly co4 STARS!
I was promised a weird, suspenseful psychological thriller assessing crime and tackling dark themes, and I was not disappointed! I honestly could not put it down.
Sure, the mystery could've been handed better so that the reveal would be more satisfying, but it wasn't about the mystery, it was about chaos and faith and control and the grey logic of murderers. Though I do believe the author could have made the arguments even more convincing, and generally developed the ideas more, made the book more. Alas, it was not to be, but I still got it (probably to everyone's horror) and enjoyed it thoroughly.
You'd probably call this book sick, I'd just call it daring—in a creepy way. And creepy, my friends, is my middle name.
FRTC.
I received an ARC of this book through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Many thanks to the publisher, Atria Books!
Merged review:
4 STARS!
I was promised a weird, suspenseful psychological thriller assessing crime and tackling dark themes, and I was not disappointed! I honestly could not put it down.
Sure, the mystery could've been handed better so that the reveal would be more satisfying, but it wasn't about the mystery, it was about chaos and faith and control and the grey logic of murderers. Though I do believe the author could have made the arguments even more convincing, and generally developed the ideas more, made the book more. Alas, it was not to be, but I still got it (probably to everyone's horror) and enjoyed it thoroughly.
You'd probably call this book sick, I'd just call it daring—in a creepy way. And creepy, my friends, is my middle name.
FRTC.
I received an ARC of this book through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. Many thanks to the publisher, Atria Books!...more
“I always look at these old faces and think...how many of them achieved the dreams they had when they were at school?”
In this house we st(4.5 ★’s)
“I always look at these old faces and think...how many of them achieved the dreams they had when they were at school?”
In this house we stan only one king and that is the adorable, manipulative playboy Aiden Kane fight me.
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YES LET HIM. I absolutely support it because he’s not just a privileged rich kid, he’s also an observant, exploitative genius and that’s truly all I care about and no that’s not problematic and yes I thank Ms. Pacat from the depths of my haunted heart for showing us how utterly he slays in action—it was delightful.
Honestly, I’m surprised to be shelving an issue of this series as a fave, but this one was undoubtedly the best so far—and no, that has nothing to do with the fact that it focuses on Aiden the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before hot rich guy I adore. Nope, whatever do you mean?
Merged review:
(4.5 ★’s)
“I always look at these old faces and think...how many of them achieved the dreams they had when they were at school?”
In this house we stan only one king and that is the adorable, manipulative playboy Aiden Kane fight me.
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YES LET HIM. I absolutely support it because he’s not just a privileged rich kid, he’s also an observant, exploitative genius and that’s truly all I care about and no that’s not problematic and yes I thank Ms. Pacat from the depths of my haunted heart for showing us how utterly he slays in action—it was delightful.
Honestly, I’m surprised to be shelving an issue of this series as a fave, but this one was undoubtedly the best so far—and no, that has nothing to do with the fact that it focuses on Aiden the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before hot rich guy I adore. Nope, whatever do you mean?...more
Before I say anything about what this book is or how I wanted to pull its fabric apart and dro(4.5 ★’s)
“Is it monstrous to want what is owed you?”
Before I say anything about what this book is or how I wanted to pull its fabric apart and drown in its strings of layered characters and delicious world, I just have to say: Why is this series Young Adult?
I’ve always found Aveyard’s tendency toward detailed exploration of intricate politics, plot movements, and character motivations to be misplaced in YA, weighing down what her audience would expect to be a more breezy, fun read. And honestly, even the 3 teens in the cast of 9 MCs and the occasional YA-ish plot clarifications can’t stop me from saying this should just be Adult. Bc this is an adult world that rarely forgets to remind our few teens how young they are, and that is the opposite of what YA is. BB still has YA elements, and I wish Aveyard had abandoned the genre, but I feel the need to note the more mature tone of this series bred by the depth and complexity of its themes and characters, which leads it away from what one would expect from a “YA Fantasy Adventure.”
“Men are so unsuited to power.” Corayne laughed darkly. “Women aren’t terribly good at it either.”
Moving on from the ridiculousness of boxes we use to categorise ourselves, Blade Breaker is a sequel that perfectly follows in the footsteps of its predecessor, carrying the magic and madness of rising myths with the same subtlety and attention to the human complexities involved, while adding a grander scale as chaos spreads across the land, politics march to the front, and every prince and king we meet decides if they will war to main peace and seek a hero’s glory.
We have our Companions, the Ward’s last hope, saviours only because—being the merry band of criminals and betrayers that they are—they’re the only ones willing to go against the realm to save it; in BB, we see their characterisation expand with the true weight of fear and grief and their bonds fall into its place vibrantly. We also have our villains, hungry and angry, scorned pair that they are, warring and politicking as they understand each other in their mutual plays for power; through them and their court drama, Aveyard explores the themes of power, conquest, and never-ending greed, the fickleness—or value—of our constructed social boundaries, or the moments of clarity after realising you are taking what is not yours, and seeing if your righteousness outweighs the hate you earn. And let’s not forget our side soldiers and clan leaders and vain royals, their presence and choices a testament to the allure of glory or the power of belief, giving us strength to fight another day. All these characters and their respective themes are so well written that I stopped trying to pick a side and simply drank them all in.
Let your fear guide you.
But mostly, I think this series’ lesson is the best reflection of its entire progression. Bc this is not an exhilarating run into battle or constant action; this is a tale of caution, of watchfulness, written with the same calculating pen. They say fear is paralytic, tell you to ignore it in a message of reckless bravery. Aveyard disagrees—she thinks fear is foolish to ignore, that one should listen to it and take control of it in a message of cautious consideration. In BB, she writes the same way, too.
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Characters: Haunted Heroes & Hungry Villains
“A girl, barely more than a child. Too small for the sword, too small for the task put in front of me.”
✦ Corayne: To me, this refreshingly realistic chosen one is foremost a resourceful nerd; a girl whose power lies in her sharp, level-headed wisdom and observant, unyielding mind; a girl who operates on knowledge, trading it and wielding it even as she struggles to wield steel with the hotheaded bravery of renowned warriors. But she is not a coward, and it’s so rewarding to watch her try to channel her mother’s commanding action-taking and sturdy boldness to expand her own steel-spined, in-control nature beyond just her words and thoughts.
Still, Corayne is but a teenager, and Aveyard never forgets that. She might be a thoughtful quick-learner rising from quietly leading her mother to becoming a leader with more presence, but she’s ultimately a child from the end of the world who only wants to see the rest, and she’s always learning from the adults around her and slowly growing.
I find the most exquisite part of her arc, though, to be her struggles to adapt to this new heritage, this responsibility and looming threat. A struggle that is beautifully symbolised in her feelings about her inherited sword—sometimes a comfort holding her up, sometimes a weight dragging her down. Nothing reflects her youth as much as her journey of finding her own path even as she goes through the motions of following the path in front of her. What is it? Is it the pirate path of her mother’s, the path she was told she was not strong enough for? Is it this unasked-for destiny, a destiny so heavy and full of death she finds herself too small in its face and seeks to escape? Or is it the life of a curious wanderer, someone who wants to find a place, or people, she belongs with? Her character’s struggle with these questions is woven quietly through all these pages and I can’t wait to see who she comes out as by the end.
“Remember this moment, Marguerite. Remember that tear.” Erida watched the single drop fall. “It is the last one you will ever shed as a girl. You are a woman now, the last of your childish hopes and dreams bleeding to death before your own eyes. [...] There are no fairy tales in this world,” Erida said, her eyes going soft. “No charming prince will come to save you. No god hears your prayers.”
✦ Erida: Anyone who knows me knows I love a well-written villain, and I think Erida being just that is one of the main reasons this series captured my attention. Her greed, her rage, her ruthlessness—they are so understandable.
Erida is every woman’s suffocated dreams and silenced strength and caged potential—prisoner to more rules than the boy beside her—given form. A creature of rage and control and jealousy, born high enough to think she has a right to everything, but female enough to be underestimated in her arrogance, cunning, resourcefulness, and hunger. In many things she reminds me of GRRM’s Cersei, grown cold to survive, burying her care and pain, “wrestled back into the box where she kept her useless things.” But where Cersei’s forwardness allowed her anger to explode and command everything, Erida is more of a contained performer, wanting and failing to unleash her festering fury and only just learning to stop hiding and let go.
He had no skill in hiding his emotions, and Erida knew exactly why. He is a man. His emotions are not considered a burden or a weakness. Not like mine, which I must keep hidden, so men might feel a little less threatened and a little more strong.
I think Erida’s greatest weakness is how lost she is in her self-righteousness and rage. She does not feel the weight of the crowns she seeks, or understand the people she rules. Too lost in what she was denied and thinks she deserves, so desperate for being unchallenged that she doubts and alienates everyone as power bleeds paranoia. She is smart, smarter than her co-villains, but she is still fooled as easily as the rest of them. Because power is a treacherous thing—it haunts and it blinds, and she is haunted by its slippery nature just as she is blinded by its alluring rush that fools one into thinking you can cross any line without consequences. She is reaching too far, destabilising too much, and with how well the reality of her situation is written, I can’t help but feel her castle shaking.
“You have steel in your spine, Your Majesty. Hold on to it. But bend when you must, lest you—and your crown—break.”
✦ Sorasa: It’s rare to read an assassin and have them feel like one the way Sorasa does, and even more rare to simultaneously have them feel like a complex person as she does. And she does, bc the contrast of her bitter irrelevance and selfish lack of mercy with her hidden values and steadfast loyalty is one of the most precious things in this entire series.
She might have been taken and indoctrinated to become an obedient weapon, but she is still so vibrantly a person—someone behind whose unrelenting guard is a patient, exasperated mother and an unexpectedly understanding, devoted friend. And it’s so painful to see how unseen this part of her is, how afraid and distrusted. Aveyard shows perfectly how estranged Sorasa feels as she tries to hold on to the comfort of company but also denies it. How she believes her life is worth nothing to no one but herself, and has to survive alone using whatever and whoever she can. It makes me simultaneously want to punch her and give her a hug.
“Perhaps you should stop worrying about their hearts, and tend to your own instead.”
✦ Dom: This bloodstained nursemaid, this brooding, sympathetic immortal, surprises me every time he digs a little deeper into my heart. I don’t even know if I have a thing for cold warriors, but I definitely have a thing for Dom. It’s the way his removal from emotions makes him cluelessly naive despite his age, so adorably honest despite his silence. The way his off-beat view of the world makes for unexpected humour and clearly establishes how out of touch he is with this fickle life. He feels like something other than human and yet is so humane in his guilt and grief, haunted by the death he’s now become familiar with. I can never stop praising the way this balance is written in him.
“You’d think I’d be used to this by now.” “Sorasa?” “Death,” Dom clipped. “Though I suppose they are interchangeable.” Andry tried to smile, if only for Dom’s sake. “There’s no getting used to it,” he said quietly. “Not even for us mortals.”
✦ Andry: The fugitive squire’s tale in this book is, in a way, what remains when pain stays and guilt spirals. Like all those this honourable and righteous, he tortures himself with every life lost, only adding to the already drowning pain of his uprooted life. And it changes him. Noble, caring Andry might be too strong to let his back break from the memories tainted by betrayal, but festering pain builds anger—an explosive desire to fight and not lose anything else. It erodes his gentleness, honing his bravery into something sharper. And it’s both tragic to watch, and undeniably sobering.
“Let the fires wash us clean. Blessed are the burned.”
✦ And then there is Valtik, so unassuming and jaunty yet viciously clever in her attempts to spread herself and help as much as she can. Or Sigil, the proud, untamable, casually fierce warrior who is unabashed in confronting anyone with her thoughts or steel. And Taristan, a man of sharp edges, born of suffering, all brute force and vengeance and honed rage, contained and ready to explode in service of a single path. And oh, my messy yet precise Charlie with a weird sense of honour for a man with none, his irreverent teasing and genius cheating so at odds with his prayers, wisdom, and skeptical faith. And many, many other side characters who carved a place in my memory and make me want to turn this into an even more long-winded character study that will lul you to sleep. But I will stop.
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Relationships: Lonely Souls Seeking to Belong
“Maybe we belong to each other, we who belong nowhere.”
✦ Friendship, But More: The Companions have become one of my fave groups of MCs, and I think the main reason is that we saw their natural bonding, going from strangers filled with suspicion while mutual trust creeps up on them as they survive and plot together in book one, to something more than friends, sharing an easy camaraderie with a deep understanding and even appreciation of their quirks. Their inside jokes, the rhythm in their teamwork, how they know to comfort each other in their own ways—be it teasing or pushing or busying—they all take form right on the page, written with the subtle flow of a master.
I’m especially grateful that Aveyard gives each their own role and dynamics. In a way, they are a stiched together family of 7, the adults taking care of the children as romance blooms between some: Dom, the overprotective dad keeping the children decent and ignoring his brewing attraction to the teasing assassin. Sorasa, the exasperated, tough mum teaching the girl how to survive. Corayne, the quick-witted daughter that brought them together. Andry, the tortured knight in muddied armour smitten with her. Charlie, the round uncle with the fun secrets. Sigil, the boastful aunt looking for trouble. And ofc, Valtik, the badass grandma with her head in the clouds. They’re all so tangible, so lonely. But now, despite all the mess, they do not feel alone.
The tea was the hearth in their cottage. It was a cup of mulled wine back home in Lemarta, the winter sea gray in the harbor. The tea was Dom’s shadow and Sorasa’s sneer and Andry’s eyes. Her mother’s laugh. All things that held her up, even when the world tried its best to knock her down.
✦ Blood Family: When you put aside the more evident theme of found families, you find undertones of the meaning and complexity of the family you’re born with—family that is only shared history blood, and family that is the surface of the drowning sea of life. In her uncle, in her father, and most importantly in her mother. Cause parents...they shape us and haunt us, they make us into children no matter how far we go. And to Corayne, her mother will always be a shadow she cannot escape and still mean the world. She will always look to her for strength as her mother looks to her for a path. Yes, we might have so few scenes of them together, but their bond is already living and breathing, full of history and pain, and I’m astounded by it.
“Too much power. It rots, and we will rot with them.”
✦ Villain Romance: I won’t even try to deny that this is the reason I fell into this series’ thrall, bc their chemistry and the depth of their interactions is decadent. Erida and Taristan are two sides of the same coin of anger, ambition, jealousy, and self-righteousness, understanding each other despite their opposite upbringings. Neither of them is a hollow puppet of evil; both are filled with pain and suppressed longing, surprised to find one other.
Theirs is a war of a relationship, constantly testing the other’s strength in small battles of will and choosing each other as they meet the challenge and prove to be equals in all—be it power or desire to rewrite the world to their whims. And in that war, they come to know who the other really is, to connect and, to their surprise, care. She is the brain and he is the blade, she is the cunning politician and he is the unstoppable storm, both impressed by the other but held back by their reservations even as they comfort and worry for each other. I just wonder if they will dig their graves together too, or betray one another before the end.
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Writing: Storytelling, World-Building, and Pacing
“This world will eat you if given the chance.”
Coming down to what I think can make or break a book, have it feel truly a fantastical tale or a washed out attempt, I find Aveyard’s writing continues to perfectly hit the mark. Her storytelling technique and subtle metaphors summon colour that flows as a thread between a skilled weaver’s hands; beautiful enough to be worthy of an old epic yet simple enough to not overwhelm.
The way she pinpoints the right details to set the scene atmospherically; how she jumps between characters, playing on contrasts and similarities, or is so well thought-out in painting behaviours that every gesture is telling of who the character is and how they move in the world; the customs and cultures, elevating every event with grand, rich history; the kingdoms with personalities of their own (my faves being the witchy, savage raiders of Jyd and the peaceful, aesthetic artists of Madrence); all this is why I find Blade Breaker so immersive, so alive.
“Very well, Corayne an-Amarat,” he said, and her smile flared like a sunbeam. Behind her, all but Sorasa smiled too. “I will sleep and dream of victory.” Domacridhan slept and dreamed of death.
My only complaint? I think entire paragraphs of this book can be replaced with a sentence. I don’t mean descriptions—they were never too much—and I don’t mean explanations—Aveyard has a great tendency to urge you to think on implications by yourself. I mean the overthinking; I know it shows the pain haunting Dom and Andry and serves characterisation, but after a point it becomes repetitive enough that it feels like filler. If a character is going to keep falling into the same spiral of trauma, you can imply it with an emotional sentence instead of writing every thought. Yes, it doesn’t do the trauma justice, but if you’re writing a fantasy adventure on the road, already bogged down by the wait for the next destination, and are doing your best to make the journey itself captivating, cutting down on repetition can go a long way.
But this is one criticism in a sea of praise, so we can safely say I’m still in love.
I’m actually crying (no, not over the above pic) like literally crying what the fog the heartless bLadies and gents, lo and behold!
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I’m actually crying (no, not over the above pic) like literally crying what the fog the heartless beach that I am is crying over a cute lil young adult comic what is this.
But sometimes—no matter how hard you work, no matter how strongly you feel—you still won’t get the one thing you want. This is what it feels like to have your dreams go up in smoke.
I hereby rescind my previous claims and declare this issue the best of the series yet and thus it shall be granted the rare honour of being marked as a fave of mine—an honour that had previously been solely bestowed on the wickedly delightful 5th issue, yes.
OK, I think I should slow down and explain. Let’s start with the drama and then the ever-present adorableness and then get to why my soul is bleeding. We have...
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ONE. Draaaamaaa. It’s the final match and oh boy, the tension is real. Pacat’s dramatic writing is as top notch as always, and her humour boldly blesses these pages. I mean, Nicholas and Seiji the clueless, innocent babies will one day kill me ...more
This was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Yes, that is an actual word, not just gibberish. And yes, I can totally pronounce it without a hit(4.5 ★’s)
This was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Yes, that is an actual word, not just gibberish. And yes, I can totally pronounce it without a hitch.
Now reasons why this was supercalifragilisticexpialidocious:
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☛ Aiden Kane KING, the genius playboy: If you thought I’m starting my list with anything other than incessant gushing over my adorable master manipulator (of which my review of Fence #5 provides plenty) then you do not know me, uh uh. Let’s just say this privileged dude became my gay baby when he showed that he’s actually got the brains and charm to observe and read people like none other and play with emotions like an uncontrollable lil kid throwing toys around. No, I don’t need a lecture on how wrong that is, I need y’all to appreciate his hidden softness and vulnerability for the pure baby that is Harvard the leader.
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☛ Nicholas Cox, the bullheaded, thickheaded cinnamon bun: The fact that I love this little angry snowball because of how obliviously stuck he is in his own small head and not despite it tells you all you need to know. He is a cute, bold and brash baby who admirably reminds himself not to get cocky while being sure and overconfident, and it’s the most impossible and perfect combination ever.
☛ Seiji Katayama, the bitter sad boy covered in thorns: You can find my more in-depth analysis in my review of Fence #8 but I’m happy to announce I like him now??? While focusing on his character in the 5th and 8th issue, Pacat dived into his turtle shell, showing his humanity and the why behind his lack of respect and understanding for others. I absolutely look forward to him learning what he was not taught and growing as a person while finding the contentment and satisfaction he’s always denied himself.
☛ Last but not least, everything else from beautiful depth to heartwarming queerness to humour and delicious art: This comic series is a blessing upon the earth and I cannot get enough of Coach Williams’ wisdom, the layered queer characters and their bonds, and the increasing tension and exploration of the games’ psychology and dynamic.
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“I always look at these old faces and think...how many of them achieved the dreams they had when they were at school?”
One main reason for how entertaining and unputdownable the comics are is, I think, the storytelling that is true chef’s kiss with how it juggles heartbeat and humour and dramatic deliverances—this allows the entries to care less about being unpredictable and more about being enjoyable, like that rom-com TV series you can’t resist binge-watching on repeat. The ever-awesome drawings don’t hurt either.
You asked how large my sorrow is, And I answered, like a river in spring flowing east. —Li Yu (李煜)
The Dragon Republic is a tale of many things—(4.5 ★’s)
You asked how large my sorrow is, And I answered, like a river in spring flowing east. —Li Yu (李煜)
The Dragon Republic is a tale of many things—festering anger and broken trust, learning to fight for hope and bearing failure’s inevitable rust, yes, but more than anything else, it is a tale of rankling inequity and unspeakable iniquity, of looking at the colour of one’s skin or the size of their head or the shape of their eyes, and deeming them lower, lesser, inhuman and primitive and stupid; of declaring a person chosen and evolved and another, unformed mud; of feeling righteous in reaching for what they have and carelessly trampling them beneath your shining heels.
As a Middle Easterner, I know first hand that stories like this are too common in Asia. We bear that legacy of pain on our shoulders—our backs are bent beneath their weights and our heads beaten down. Too often does the world gloss over the atrocities of the past, too often the response to history is “but that’s all in the past.”
Well, it is not.
You can tell the world to move on, you can shout it and chant it and point to the silent weapons and loud reforms promising freedom and equality, but how can one move on when we still live in an unfair world revolving around privilege, a world where the colour of your skin or the soil you were born on decide what you can and cannot have? The promises and well-intended declarations of “look to the future because what’s passed is in the past”? All they do is veil the injustice that forms the roots of this world, and by forgetting our history there is no way to shape a better future.
That is why The Poppy War trilogy matters. That is why this Chinese inspired military fantasy should be read and discussed and remembered. With The Dragon Republic, Rebecca Kuang aims to make you, dear reader, terribly uncomfortable. This is a book that is grim and dark and sucks your energy away like a black hole devouring all light. It’s not a wickedly delightful grimdark fantasy relishing rage and revenge, but one that unveils the leeches feeding and growing on your vengeance and makes you so furious yet so helpless that you are crushed underneath the weight of the world, exhausted and powerless even as you know that there is no fate, only choice.
“Happy New Year,” Kitay said. “May the gods send you blessings and good fortune.” “Health, wealth, and happiness. May your enemies rot and surrender quickly before we have to kill more of them.”
I’m not sure if I love or hate that Kuang can take glorious concepts such as ethereal worlds and gods and a revolution, and drag them down to earth so viciously that they turn into tangible, worldly, manageable affairs of everyday life. It’s rather frustratingly admirable, I admit.
But with a plot that does not fall into the passivity trap of TPW, added intrigue, improved writing, and awe-inspiringly deeper dive into intended themes like trauma and addiction, TDR managed to steal my heart in the way I’d been all but begging for, despite slightly lacking in development of some relationships (not characters, which were all stunningly layered and shaped)—but we’ll get to that in time.
If you write a book inspired by true events, you bet I, the history nerd, will dedicate an entire section to analysis of its influences and themes. Forget the characters and relationships and whatnot, this is the real reason why TPW trilogy is worthy of note. From civil war to western colonisation, Kuang unflinchingly tackles every dark nook and cranny of its Chinese influence to the ground, taming it and capturing it and putting it on disturbing display for our guarded eyes.
In my review of The Poppy War, I mentioned how I believed these books were largely inspired by the Qing dynasty which was the last imperial dynasty of China, and this sequel further strengthens my conclusion.
For one thing, the book’s Poppy Wars and their Hesperian relations are reminiscent of the Opium Wars, which were Europe’s early attempts at western colonisation of China during the reign of the Qing dynasty. Not only that, but Kuang also shows the shift in Europe’s attempts at colonisation through history, from forceful penetration in the 19th century to the economical coercion and civilising mission of the following years. The racism and greed inherent in those intervening, invasive hands seeking control of the resources of prosperous eastern lands excused by beliefs in the superiority of the White race is an infuriating and uncomfortable topic to witness for anyone of any ethnicity, and Kuang fearlessly lays its every preposterous audacity bare.
However, she has also jumbled the timeline of events and mixed nations’ and figures’ roles enough that I had to spend an insane amount of time piecing this puzzle together. To share my findings, I’ll have to give you a quick history lesson touching upon a few needed prominent moments:
Once upon a time the Qing dynasty ruled over China from 1636 to 1912. During its later years, the British who love tea bought their supply from China—but because they didn’t want to pay for it with their silver, they made up for it with cotton and opium exports from India, in which they’d just gained control. As opium addiction became an issue in the land though, the Chinese government declared a ban on all opium trade. The Great Britain was obviously bothered so, you guessed it, they showed up with their ships and guns in June of 1840 and demanded unjustified rights. The following years brought suffering and two Opium Wars for China as it was overpowered by the west, the US, France, and Russia all taking advantage of its weakness to press for favourable trade treaties and generally getting away with whatever the hell they wanted.
Eventually, people got fed up and, with various revolts, the 1911 Revolution succeeded in overthrowing the Qing. After more civil war and unrest, the Beiyang government was established as China’s central authority with Yuan Shikai being the first formal President of the Republic of China. But, seeking more of the ever-alluring power and monopolising the power of the new national government, Yuan made a short-lived attempt to make himself Emperor, died, power struggles ensued, and China ended up with two warring governments: the Communist Party of China (or CPC, based in North China) and the Nationalist Party of China (or KMT, based in South China, created by Sun Yat-sen who had previously opposed and then compromised with Yuan).
History is complicated and confusing, but there is one thing you need to know whenever it comes to the affairs of the east: that, after a point, you will always find the west peeking its head. So as China fought to unify itself, two things relevant to this historical fiction series were happening: on one hand, the foreign armies stationed in North China that had been brought in to suppress the rebellion were in danger of warring to gain power over the divided land for their “advanced nations” and on the other hand, the Soviet Union proceeded to pledge its assistance for unification of China. Thus, while everyone sought to retain both a compliant native government and equal opportunity for investment, the Soviet leadership initiated a dual policy of support for both Chinese parties, backing CPC with money and spies and aiming to reorganise KMT along the ideals of the Comintern—an international organisation founded by Russia that advocated world communism.
After years of division, Japan’s invasion of China in 1937 due to its decades-long imperialist policy to become a colonial power itself, led to a temporary unification of KMT and CPC as China fought the Second Sino-Japanese War with the help of the Soviet Union and the United States. And then there was death and tragedy and the Rape of Nanjing and WWII and the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki...and you know how it goes—lives were destroyed, crimes were committed, and history was tainted and painted in black.
What happened with the Chinese Civil War after that is not in the domain of this book, so I’m leaving the story there.
As is evident, Kuang has taken events spanning across two centuries, shifted them and changed them and summarised them in a few decades: Mugen (Japan) became the main enemy in the Poppy Wars instead of Hesperia (Europe) and the Second Sino-Japanese War became the Third Poppy War, happening years earlier during the Qing dynasty instead of after its collapse. Vaisra is a Yuan Shikai (a Qing military strongman establishing the first modern army and a more efficient provincial government in North China) who did as Sun Yat-sen had done and sought foreign help, sending his people to learn from the Hesperians. The Consortium is the Comintern, observing and meddling in the precise same way. I could go on, matching every character and action with its historical counterpart because I am mad enough to have spent hours doing just that, but I will spare your poor braincells.
Despite the changes that brought the fiction to the historical, TDR ultimately maintains the main themes of its inspirations and boldly explores their implications. From fear and eradication of rumours of sorcery, to anti-Christianity and the cold treatment of western ambassadors during the Qing dynasty; from the colourism dividing North and South China with a line of prejudice and privilege, to idealist liberal movements that are in truth hypocritical and blind to the reality of the depth of injustice; from arrogant civilising missions, colonisations, and rapacity of the west, to beliefs in the superiority and chosen status of a race over the lowly and inhumane view of another, Kuang pours heart and soul into ink and parchment to develop each facet of the picture she draws.
“Do not shirk from war, child. Do not flinch from suffering. When you hear screaming, run toward it.”
And that, my friends, is why this book matters. It matters because it does not let you ignore what was and what is, still, laid in our foundations.
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Characters: Development & Relationships
If you strip away the powerful themes and exquisite world, you will be left with the characters—and they are just as faceted as the aforementioned aspects of the book.
“When you have the power that you do, your life is not your own.”
✿ Rin: It’s quite rare to read healing journeys gone wrong, weaving the ways characters slip instead of succeed in their battle with mental illness, so I appreciate how Kuang delves into Rin’s mentality, her excuses behind addiction, and her immediate flight when encountering grief and guilt. With Rin’s internal struggles, we soberingly witness the philosophy of violence and watch as its haunting consequences unfold.
But in all honesty, even as I love Rin’s lethal, unapologetic quickness and zero tolerance, she’s too much of a follower—needing to be disciplined, craving her abusers, picking paths rather than carving her own—to capture my heart yet. I do love that her incompetence is acknowledged, though; something that has me very hopeful for the path the story seems to be taking.
✿ Nezha: This idealistic, clueless, privileged, haunted, idiotically loyal baby boy has me so conflicted I want to simultaneously hug him adoringly and pummel him angrily. It’s a pity that his character and his dynamic with Rin did not get the time and attention they deserved, because they could’ve been my new obsession. But sadly, this relationship ended up being as lackingly developed as Rin and Altan in TPW.
Considering how impressively Kuang’s writing has improved though, with Altan’s promised theme of destructive tendencies now finally being shown and thoroughly written, I cannot wait to see Kuang grow even more and steal my breath with Rinezha as well as Nezha himself.
✿ Kitay: You know that character who walks through trauma and emerges as a bitter bastard on the other side? Yes, that one, the one I, however disturbingly, love—that is my Kitay going from an uptight, moral cinnamon roll to a viciously practical scholar slaying me with his sass. It was a little sad to see his righteousness come bite him in the arse, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was also satisfying; what can I say, I’m evil.
✿ The Cike: Last but not least, tiny, innocent, brilliant, and dangerous Ramsa, sarcastic, irreverent, and thrill-seeking Baji, hypocritical, tragic Chaghan, and all of the Cike’s forced companionship and solid comradeship left a mark on my heart. They might not be warm, they might not be friendly, they might constantly hit one another, never pulling punches...but to me, they are a testament to the unlikely friends, no allies, that one can stumble upon in times of pain and crisis when all you have is one more broken soul who might hate you for the mirror you are of their own doomed predicament, but they would have your back if you have theirs because, really, you’re all the other’s got.
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CW ➾ racism, colourism, colonisation, abuse, misogyny, PTSD, grief, substance use and addiction, self-harm, nonconsensual human experimentations and medical examinations, torture, rape, burning, genocide, mutilation, gore and violence
Books in series: ➴ The Poppy War (The Poppy War, #1) ★★★★☆ ➴ The Dragon Republic (The Poppy War, #2) ★★★★✯ ➴ The Burning God (The Poppy War, #3) ★★★★★...more
If The Gilded Wolves was a gentleman pickpocket slipping through the luxurious aristocratic parties of Paris, The Silvered Serpents is an anguisheIf The Gilded Wolves was a gentleman pickpocket slipping through the luxurious aristocratic parties of Paris, The Silvered Serpents is an anguished ghost dreaming of godhood, haunting the corridors of a palace of ice, hunting myths.
“I wish my love was more beautiful.”
Sometimes you read books for page-turner, grand action and fast-paced, epic twists and turns, yes, but sometimes, you read them for carefully plotted brilliance and mystical mysteries; sometimes you pick them up for delicate sleights of hand, secret recluses, and immersive writing that unveils the need in your heart. Sometimes, you seek a book that is more adverb than action—as Roshani Chokshi puts it.
This series is of the latter kind.
“Sometimes ghost stories are all that is left of history,” he said. “History is full of ghosts because it’s full of myth, all of it woven together depending on who survived to do the telling.”
With this second installment, Roshani takes a step further than science and magic forged as art, history and fiction entwined in puzzles. With The Silvered Serpents, she walks beyond history and into myth—the truths covered in cobwebs whispered and twisted and hidden behind forgotten doors, the truths that horrify and intrigue—embracing stories of all corners of the world, from Greek goddesses to Middle Eastern origins of Rapunzel. And more than myths, Roshani tells the tale of humanity, of belonging and being scorned, of murdered girls and stolen women, denied motherhood and gripped power, of malice cultivated between girls who were not allowed to dream, and of dead girls forced to guard treasure in invisible palaces.
The Silvered Serpents is in many ways the opposite of its predecessor; where TGW was light, TSS is gloomy, grief and guilt and transfixing agony bordering its edges. So it can also be said that this is a tale of pain, unflinching in its foray into darkness, of found families falling apart and loss tearing bonds into pieces, of love that does not always wear the face you seek, love that is not beautiful and peaceful and easy, love that wounds with its cruel, silent face in its desire to protect and save. This is a tale that plays with your heartstrings.
Maybe for girls made of snow, love was worth the melt. But she was made of stolen bones and sleek fur, grave dirt and strange blood—her heart wasn’t even hers to give. Her soul was all she had, and no love was worth losing it.
So put your shields up around your heart, because goodbyes are in order. For now, there is one more acquisition and five people headed their own ways who come back, each for different reasons, to complete one last treasure hunt. But “In debating the merits of pursuing hidden treasure, one must weigh the risk of whether it was never meant to be found and if so, why?” Because someone...someone wants to play god.
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❆ First, Let’s Get the Criticism Out of the Way ❆
“I saw what I wanted to see,” he said, hoarse. “Only a desperate man trusts a mirage in the desert.”
In the spirit of honesty and even though I hate complaining, I will have to admit that, while I loved TSS, the writer and critic in me can’t stop thinking of all the ways this gem of anguished longing and impossible dreams could have been more than just a fave—it could have been an all-time fave! Sigh, me and my obsession with books being the best versions of themselves will one day kill me but, for now, on the matter of equally cutting the book into three to rate and proceeding to address the elephant in the room:
First ⅓ ⤑ ★★★★✯ Second ⅓ ⤑ ★★★☆☆ Third ⅓ ⤑ ★★★★✯
Here’s the thing: one reason why The Gilded Wolves had me enchanted from page one to page I-don’t-remember-how-many-pages-it-was-and-I’m-too-lazy-to-check-just-assume-I-wrote-the-number-of-the-last-page, was the lush and aristocratic, atmospheric setting which caught and trapped me in 1889 Paris so thoroughly I all but became a willing prisoner and fell in love with my captive (Stockholm syndrome right there)—the setting and the wonder and artistry of L’Eden that The Silvered Serpents does not have.
What he felt now was a different kind of incredulity. The kind where one has released a dream into the world, only to rediscover it on the ground, trampled and stained.
Don’t me wrong, Roshani’s writing is still breathtakingly immersive and I walked every path alongside my tragic gang of mischiefs, absorbed every landscape, breathed in every smell. And even as I was aware that the Parisian atmosphere would be missing in this sequel, I expected it to be replaced with a chillingly Russian one. It was not—well, it was, but for only a few chapters. What’s more, the characters spent a long time wandering around an abandoned ice palace trying to solve mysteries and taking too long to figure out what’s right in front of them. I am not saying the puzzles and clues were not clever, they always are with Roshani, what I’m saying is that so are the characters.
Knowledge was coy. It liked to hide beneath the shroud of myth, place its heart in a fairy tale, as if it were a prize at the end of the quest. Perhaps whatever knowledge was here was similar. Perhaps it wished to be wooed and coaxed forth.
What I’d have loved is for the plotting to have been entirely different, with plot points moved earlier/later in the book to bring out the full potential of this tale. What I’d have loved is for the Winter Conclave to have been a weeks-long event and for the cast to take residence in Russia (letting me drown in my requested setting vibes) and attempt to crack the mystery even as they have to navigate the politics of European Houses and soak in intrigue because oh the lost opportunity for politicking, world expansion, and dive into the dirty laundry of the greedy, imperialist Order! What I’d have loved is for the gang to then slip away with their supporters to the discovered location, the other Houses on their tail, and explore the haunted palace faster with less unnecessary procrastination. What I’d have loved is a confrontation upon the Order’s arrival and then everything that happened at the end.
I did not get what I’d have loved. I loved what I got (mostly) but while everyone declared book one to be confusing in plot (I did not) I found book two to be too simple in plot (no one else did).
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❆ Now Allow Me to Fall Apart for the Characters ❆
“We need to separate Vasiliev from his bodyguards,” said Séverin. “Something that can pull men apart—” “Money?” asked Enrique. “Love!” said Hypnos. “Magnets,” said Zofia. Laila, Enrique, and Hypnos turned to stare at her. “Powerful magnets,” Zofia amended.
✦ Séverin: Séverin Montagnet-Alarie, Paris’s most influential investor and owner of the grandest hotel in France, is an idiot. My emotions swung between wanting to hug him, punch him, kiss him, scream at him, and do more confusing things to him—I settled for Laila making him squirm.
“You always see so clearly into the darkness of men’s hearts, Monsieur Montagnet-Alarie,” she said, before adding in a softer voice, “But I remember when you used to see wonder.” Séverin reached for his water goblet. “And now I see truth.”
This stubborn, irrational, beautiful boy filled with so much longing, this commanding, imaginative, observant boy who once saw wonder where he now sees pain, lets his grief and self hate drown him in the skeletons in Tristan’s closets and the demons beneath his bed, and refuses everyone’s hand, shunning his closest friends who have to step back lest the drowning man take them down as well. I can relate to his fear of being powerless, shutting himself away at the first sign of vulnerability. But what he does to escape his pain is seeking to escape humanity, practicing the cold, cruel tyranny of indifference because, “for the sake of what he needed to do, he had to be apart, not a part,” for the sake of gaining invincibility, he looks to leave mortality behind. “Ah, Majnun. The madman who lost himself to an impossible dream.”
He was like a cursed prince, trapped in the worst version of himself. And nothing she possessed—not her kiss freely given, nor her heart shyly offered—could break the thrall that held him because he had done it to himself.
✦ Laila: I was going to write a ballad for this empowering Indian gem of existence who would not let her death be in service to another’s character, her pain what he’d feed on to find his strength, this utter queen without a crown who reminds me of Nina Zenik after her glorious character development...but I’m too lazy so watch me pluck sentences out of the book and put them together because, truly, Roshani says it better than I ever could. “Laila was like a fairy tale plucked from the pages of a book—a girl with a curse woven into her heartbeat. A mirage glimpsed through smoke. A temptation in the desert that lulls the soul into thinking of false promises. The essence of her was walking into a room, and all eyes pinned to her, as if she were the performance of a lifetime. The essence of her was a smile full of forgiveness, the warmth in her hands, sugar in her hair.”
Laila was salvaged bones, and the snow maiden was only gathered snow. Love didn’t deserve to thaw their wits and turn their hearts to dust.
✦ Zofia: There are not many people who make me proud of my Gryffindor side, yet Zofia with her sympathies for a broken machine is one of them. She is my dangerously flammable Phoenix and favourite of the cast (next to Laila) not because of her autism (which is perfectly portrayed in her different way of processing the world, such as when the subtleties of language and art are lost on her) but because she strives to be brave even with fear of the unknown, to be independent and helpful even as she feels like a burden and knows that she needs others’ help. Zofia is a unique type of empowering female character and I relished seeing her shine in this sequel.
“If there were stairs to hell, would you venture down those?” “It depends on what was inside hell, and if I needed it.”
✦ Enrique: This charming, adorable, biracial boy is longing incarnate. He is the longing for a home to call your own and a place to belong when both sides of who you are shun you. He is the longing to be heard and and seen for all you have done and can do when no one holds you worthy for your truth. He is longing, and how can one not relate to him, not feel for him?
“When a man cannot see a person as a person, then the devil has slipped into him and is peering out of his eyes.”
✦ Hypnos: You know that friend who wants to help but does more unintentional harm than good because he is so clueless and lonely and has no idea how to have friends? Yes, this is him. The reason him and Enrique bonded so easily was because Hypnos, too, is a biracial vision of reaching hands, wanting to belong and prove his worth. But the difference is that, in many things, Hypnos is more casual and fun-seeking and, to be honest, I cannot stop thinking of how great a drag queen he could have been. My heart bled in glee every time he contributed to the group and was recognised.
“Why isn’t he going in?” muttered Hypnos. “Fear of dismemberment,” said Zofia. “If I were designing thief-catching mechanisms, I would have a device rigged to attack the first three people who entered.” Hypnos stepped behind Zofia. “Ladies first.”
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❆ And Then There Is the Curse That is the Relationships ❆
That was how friendship felt to her, an illumination too vast for her senses to capture. Yet she did not doubt its presence. And she held that light close to her as step by step, she ventured down the stairs.
The relationships in TSS were probably the best part for me. Because what this book gave me was layered friendships falling apart at the seams and being stitched back together. What it gave me was lovers parting peacefully with mutual understanding soaked in pain, and bonds blooming in opposites, two halves of a whole, completing one another and showing each other the side they could not see on their own. Oh what it gave me was two hearts drenched in rage-filled anguish (which I’ve found to be my fave emotion) playing at cat and mouse.
He first glimpsed her through the mirror, like a fairy tale where the hero crept upon the monster, risking only a glance at her reflection lest she turn his heart to stone. Only this was its inversion. Now the monster glanced upon the maiden, risking only a glimpse of her reflection lest she turn his stone to heart.
I ask you, is this not the most beautiful declaration of love you’ve ever read? “Perhaps, all goddesses are just beliefs draped on the scaffolding of ideas. I can’t touch what’s not real. But I can worship it all the same.” Yup, I died too. Until my next session of gushing, goodbye and try not to die.
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Thank you to my superhero for providing me with an eARC through Edelweiss!
Books in series: ⤳ The Gilded Wolves (The Gilded Wolves, #1) ★★★★✯ ⤳ The Silvered Serpents (The Gilded Wolves, #2) ★★★★☆ ⤳ The Bronzed Beasts (The Gilded Wolves, #3) ☆☆☆☆☆...more
The core ingredients in my fighting-depression arsenal:
➊ book with an i-am-dying level of hilariousness ➋ book with an i-shall-overdose level of adorabThe core ingredients in my fighting-depression arsenal:
➊ book with an i-am-dying level of hilariousness ➋ book with an i-shall-overdose level of adorableness ➌ book with an oh-my-rainbow-heart level of LGBT+ rep ➍ accordingly chosen music for playlist ➾ Spotify link Or, you know, in short: this book aka Boyfriend Material.
“I’m in love with you, Lucien. But it seems hardly adequate.”
You need to understand, the humour in this book shines quite blindingly through every scene, be it awkward, sweet, or emotional, making it less a hot and sexy adult romance and more a lethally cute and funny one. Honestly, it’s just heart emoji if it had two covers and 400+ pages.
So if you’re looking for a rolling on the floor laughing my ass off type of book about fake dating going horribly wrong (or right, depending on your perspective), sprinkled with life as adult gay men, clueless posh English nobles, being haunted by rockstar parents, some insight to life as a vegetarian, work as a barrister, and a job at a charity (I mean insights into getting people to give you their money without shouting “give me your money you potato burger”), dripping with too-adorable lessons on the complications of relationships and trust and generally oh my god I have feelings what do I do for a hedgehog main character...you’ve come to the right place.
I loved it, not least because it was not set in America thank you lord?
“You really do own your illiteracy, don’t you?” “Yeah, I’m thinking about moving to America and running for public office.”
Guys I swear I made an effort to keep it short this time I swear but then I started writing, and I have no idea what happened next.
CW ➾ homophobia, abandonment by parent, narcissistic parent, emotional abuse
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The Humour That Be
You all know me, I’m a clown, I admire clowns, and I value humour most in my books. And I realise that I’m also an unstable weirdo who laughs at worldwide disasters and a crack in the wall (which in reality is funny but that’s another conversation) BUT, oh my god this book is absolutely hilarious. Like, asphyxiation, suffocation, choke you till you die hilarious (which is not as grim as it may sound—a worthy end to a life, really).
The writing is so witty and absurd; it makes jokes the way you chat up ab attractive lady slash dude slash whocaresaboutgender—rather smooth and disarming, is what I mean. The banter is only the start of it, what’s most unique about Boyfriend Material is its creativity in creating iconic and insisting patterns and brands of humour and weaving them all throughout the pages from one cover to the other. I had a blast with every page.
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The Representation That Be
Anybody can put together a cast of lesbian, gay, bi, etc characters and call it a yay-day, but it’s quite something else for the baggage they drag into the page to make them feel less like boxes ticked off a grocery-like list and more like, you know, actual human beings. With Boyfriend Material, even though the aforementioned baggage is not fully and deeply opened and stifled through, it’s constantly present and considered in the character’s everyday lives and conversations to be real rather than fake or overwhelming.
“You should never let anyone tell you it is wrong to be how you are.”
Too many LGBT+ books are about only the most painful and/or prominent moments of a person’s life, and while there is never enough books on stepping out of the closet and finding yourself and your place, this community also needs easy rep of everyday drama.
What if you’ve come out to all your friends and family and have a healthy relationship of love and acceptance with all the people in your personal life? What’s next? How do you live a normal life and deal with all the different people out in the world, having their own understanding, ignorant, or (veiled) homophobic opinions? Those are the exact type of questions Alexis Hall tells a story about.
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The Characters That Be (this got long whoops)
★ Protagonist:
Luc is the human equivalent of a hedgehog. You might want to hug him but as soon you get remotely near you should pick up a shield because ohmygod ohmygod vulnerability alert cannot deal i repeat cannot deal ready for launch. I’m not even kidding.
“It’s just…it’s going to be all hard and messy.” “Lots of things are. Many of them are still worth doing.” It was a sign of quite how fucked up I was feeling that I didn’t try to make a joke out of hard, messy or, indeed, worth doing.
He’s such a haunted, wounded, pessimistic, self-deprecating, miserable, sarcastic, paranoid mess of a drama queen (rightfully so because, when all you see of yourself is what the tabloids show you, what else do you expect) who’s rather fond of his teenager mode that I just want to hug the 28 yo bellend, damn being impaled. His growth was handled so deftly and smoothly, with the necessary bumps in the road of course, and it was so heartfelt and precious to see him learn to communicate and trust.
✯ Love Interest:
I have zero idea what to do with Oliver because oh my god this dude. Really, as Luc put it, “Normally I didn’t do sweet but, well, Oliver.” He’s the very definition of a gentleman, ugh. Respectful and considerate yet opinionated and ethical (I mean jeez only Oliver could turn a brownie into an ethical quandary), clean and serious yet secretly funny and rebellious, soft and delicate yet protective and slightly controlling. So patient, so caring, so outrageously thoughtful.
And he’s trying so hard and, ugh, dammit, it turns him such an adorable secretly anxious lion-looking puppy—which makes no sense, what with one being from the dear old cat family and one the loyal dog one. I just cannot resist sharing his texting panic:
I was unexpectedly de-sleeped by a buzzing from my phone at 5:00 a.m.: My apologies. Next time, I’ll send a photograph of my penis. And then several further buzzings. That was a joke. I should probably make it clear that I’m not intending to send you any pictures. I’ve never sent that sort of thing to anybody. As a lawyer, it’s hard not to be aware of the potential consequences. I also realise you’re probably asleep at the moment. So perhaps if you could just delete the previous five messages when you wake up. Of course, I should emphasise that I am not meaning to imply any judgment about people who do choose to send intimate photographs to one another. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. Of course if it is something you’re comfortable with, I understand. Not that I’m suggesting you have to send me a picture of your penis. Oh God, can you please delete every text I’ve ever sent you.
He had me frustrated yet amused and drowning in adoration, shaking my head and going awwwwwww every other chapter while, frankly, if I met him in real life there would probably be less amusement and adoration and more devising an evil plan to shake his life to the core, driving him right over a metaphorical cliff questioning all his beliefs and messing up all the meticulously ordered aspects of his life. Don’t look so surprised, you already know I’m evil.
Now that I really think about it though, I’m starting to come to the conclusion that I have, indeed, met him in real life. He’s my eldest brother *insert poker face* I...I don’t quite know what to do with that information.
☆ Sidekicks:
You know that friend (or maybe not friend, maybe it’s yourself) who is so absurd or weird or different that ends up always standing out like a sore thumb, whenever and wherever, for good or worse, and has people whispering that one is such a character? That’s all the characters in this book.
Like Alex The Posh And Incomprehensible Co-Worker who, if you held an exam on puns with scores from 0 to 100, would get a pretty minus with adorable bunny ears. No, scratch that, he’d receive a full mark and forever ruin all kinds of jokes for you—I honestly don’t think I can listen to the knock-knock joke or the elephant ones without thinking of his take; which is a good thing, I believe, since it would drive me to laugh harder than asked for by the dear joker. Seriously, the man uses hashtags like this:
Or Priya The Only One With An Automobile AKA Truck who, even in her short scenes, managed to steal my heart with her ice-thorny attitude and steadfast support. Not gonna lie, it might be because she unbelievably reminded me of Amren from my other current read.
Or Bridget The Group’s Token Straight Girl and her publishing industry dramas, sweeping in with a you are not gonna believe what happened and an I can’t really talk about it but and a I’m definitely gonna get fired. I was literally sitting with my eyes glued to the metaphorical door waiting for her to make a hasty entrance and steal the stage.
“Either you never trust anybody ever again, and pretend that stops people hurting you when clearly it doesn’t. Or, um, don’t do that. And maybe your house will burn down. But, at least you’ll be warm. And probably the next place will be better. And come with an induction hob.”
Or even Sophie The Evil Lawyer From The Other Gang who I immediately became obsessed with. Or, truly, Tom who was the rare sensible one among them and I have no idea why he would bother to hang out with these nuthouses except if he’s got a secret weird fetish for their weirdness and needs them in his life the way you’d need puppies. Or Dr. Fairclough whom I can’t begin to summarise in one sentence—I mean I could, but I don’t want to.
I’ll be honest, at first I felt as if the friends and family coming along for the ride all sounded the same, but that is so not the case. Yes, the MC and most of his group of friends do have constant banter that feels on the same wavelength, but of course it makes sense that birds of a feather flock together. Most of their gang and even his, duh, mum speak the same language (seriously, I have the same out-of-nowhere back-and-forths with folks who share my crazy or are compatible with it) while that very humour applied to people outside of their circle could invite amusement, bewilderment, or nothing, falling flat with a loud, awkward thump. It was when I could say which of the two James Royce-Royces (yes they’r married, don’t even ask) was speaking that I saw how real these words on a page had become to me.
The way I see it, what makes these characters remarkable and tangible is their small quirks, annoying habits, and persistent figures of speech and thought—I know that’s not an actual thing but, please, bear with me. Such as the way Luc’s mum could say such well-meaning clueless things that would be possibly harmful but are not because she succeeds in getting her wisdom and actual meaning across. Somehow.
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The Relationships That Be
This was why relationships sucked: they made you need shit you’d been perfectly happy not needing. And then they took them away.
I don’t think I’m actually in fit condition to discuss this...beautiful, unforgettable, filled-with-endearing-arguments, so-palpable-it-was-about-to-step-out-of-the-page-and-murder-me...matter, seeing as I’ve had a couple of peculiar near-death experiences from cuteness overdose. So forgive me as I skip this step and just very calmly thank the author for having the characters quickly address problems arising from lack of communication.
The wholesome, fully developed friendships and familial bonds despite—or should I say because of—complications were also nothing short of marvelous. And I wholeheartedly appreciated how the family struggles were concluded realistically, if not happily, or in one case only began to be dealt with—it was refreshing, so there’s that. Shoo now.
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The Themes That Be
(If you were not wondering whether I’d misplaced or forgotten my let’s dig deep and see what the book really had to say and generally overanalyse everything part, that you do not know me my dear—which is for the best, really. Do say a prayer of thanks.)
“I’m coming to the conclusion I might be unbelievably terrified.” “Me too,” I said. “But let’s be terrified together.”
With all its jokes and fun times, Boyfriend Material is about dealing with and facing life head on because the more we try to hide from something, the more power we give it. It shows why you need to accept that you need help, and realise that no one else is going to sweep in and suddenly turn your life upside down; no matter how much they help you move forward and see your path more clearly, it’s you who walks it. And more importantly, it’s about understanding and taking the first step and the second step and the third one, rather than finishing a journey that doesn’t really have an end. That, in the end, the world is not going to become heaven populated by nice and kind people.
And that, really, it’s not about the three words, it’s about everything that came before it and everything that comes after it....more
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