This heartfelt but sometimes difficult novel creates a bridge between two characters through a notebook. On one side, Nao is a teenager living in Tokyo and journaling about her depressed father, larger-than-life great-grandmother, and uprooting after several years living in California. On the other side, Ruth is a Canadian-Japanese writer living on the West coast of Canada, on a small and very remote island with her husband, trying to write her next novel and finding Nao’s journal.
I really enjoyed the multi-facetted portrait of Japanese culture this novel delivers. Through Nao and Ruth’s experiences, and what we come to learn about Nao’s family, we get a kaleidoscope of Japan in the 20th century that never feels like a history lesson. Special points go to Jiko, the anarchist and feminist nun that Nao visits in her temple. There were some very hard moments to read about (see the content warnings) and I had to skip a few paragraphs, but it is also a novel bursting with poetry and exploration of identity.
Méline, mi-fée mi-humaine, est en charge de l’Hôtel imaginaire depuis que ses parents sont partis faire le tour du monde. Avec son meilleur ami Echo et une équipe dévouée à ce lieu spécial, tout devrait se passer pour le mieux, mais c’est sans compter les enquêteurs de la Fairy Investigation Society qui s’installent à l’hôtel pour la semaine et mettent en péril l’équilibre fragile que Méline s’efforce de maintenir. Car une partie des employés sont en réalité des fées, et il faut à tout prix éviter que leur identité soit révélée, ou l’établissement fermera ses portes et la communauté féérique sera en danger.
Ce roman de cosy fantasy absolument charmant nous entraîne dans les couloirs de l’Hôtel imaginaire à travers les yeux de Méline et d’Echo, deux personnages très attachants qui sont tiraillés entre les différentes facettes de leur identité. Méline, à la fois fée et humaine, jamais assez l’une ou l’autre selon son interlocuteur. Echo, fée capable comme toutes ses congénères de prendre une apparence humaine, tombé amoureux d’une humaine. Ajoutez à cela une menace digne de Ghostbusters mais dont les enquêteurs sont les méchants, un chat qui ne se trouve jamais où on l’attend, un yéti pas si effroyable et un gobelin terrifiant, et vous avez les ingrédients d’une lecture passionnante qu’il est difficile de lâcher et qui se sirote aussi facilement qu’un thé glacé. J’ai adoré l’ambiance de l’hôtel et la bienveillance qui guide ses protagonistes. Je l’avoue, j’étais sceptique quant à la présence des fées car ce n’est pas mon type de fantasy préféré. Mais l’autrice les ancre dans la réalité en les dotant de personnalités et de pouvoirs variés liés à la nature, et en fait les ambassadrices d’une vision écologiste qui résonne profondément avec notre quotidien. Pour les amateurices, la touche de romance sera la bienvenue, et pour celles et ceux qui n’y tiennent pas, elle reste à l’arrière-plan.
This short and sweet essay from 404 Inklings is a tender and researched exploration of, like the title suggests, the potential of friendship between women (whether cis or trans). Society & culture often prefer to show us women pitted against each other, because the truth is, we are so much more powerful when we league against whoever would separate us. But this essay also celebrates intimacy beyond romantic & sexual relationships, and I loved it for that. Behrooz explores with care and well-chosen words the unique bond between girls or women who share absolute trust. She charts portrayals in books, movies, tv shows and in her own experience to invite us to think or maybe rethink friendship as just important, if not more, as romantic and sexual relationships.
Qu’est-ce qui vous attire vers une bande-dessinée / un comics / un manga ? Moi, c’est l’image. Non que l’histoire n’ait pas d’importance, mais si je n’aime pas le style graphique, je ne m’intéresserait pas à l’histoire.
J’ai emprunté Yojimbot à la bibliothèque purement pour le dessin, quand je l’ai entraperçu dans la recommandation d’un.e ami.e sur instagram. Et je n’ai pas été déçue, entre le trait et la couleur, tout est beau. Le principe était intrigant, aussi, avec ces robots qui vaquent à leurs occupations dans une sorte de parc de loisirs au Japon, déserté depuis qu’une catastrophe a forcé les humains à trouver refuge sous terre. A l’exception d’un enfant, qui se lie d’amitié avec un robot. Malheureusement, c’était beaucoup trop violent à mon goût, et avec les bandes-dessinées on n’a pas l’option de lire en diagonale pour éviter les descriptions trop graphiques. Je dirais cependant que si vous aimez Westworld, vous devriez jeter un œil à Yojimbot !
Imagine a slow-paced, gentle cosy political fantasy following the man closest to the Emperor, charged with changing the world government so that it favours the many rather than the few. Imagine a vast world, plenty of different cultures, and a region of scattered islands reminiscent of Polynesia where our main character, Cliopher, comes from. Imagine the kindest man, the one most devoted to peace and fairness, and also to his Emperor, and also to his native land, learning to honour his origins and take a stand for what he believes is just. Imagine Cliopher, the Hands of the Emperor, tasked with making sure people have decent living conditions ? Reforming all the government institutions that need it to eradicate privilege ?? Creating a universal wage ??? And all the while building this relationship of trust and love with his Emperor and letting him show the man behind court policies and religious taboos ?
I don’t know how to convince you to read this gem of a book, except by adding that it was the perfect soothing read in a very scary political time here in France. Just like Becky Chambers, Victoria Goddard makes me believe that we as humans can grow to open our hearts to each other and create a system of government that is fair.
Rep : black & brown characters, discreet but omnipresent queer rep.
Frankie’s grand-mother has just passed away and the young artist has decided to take residence in her Irish-countryside cottage. There, she witnesses death in all forms and records it in a photographic project.
I was attracted to this book because of the rural Irish setting, the artist protagonist and the reflection on death and memory. I gleefully ignored the part where it said the main character took pictures of dead animals for her artistic project, and I certainly wasn’t expecting these pictures to feature at the opening of all ten parts. Which, you know, isn’t the most pleasant thing to find and didn’t make me feel particularly kindly towards the protagonist. So there was a level of discomfort in my reading experience that doesn’t especially do justice to the book, but I’ve read great reviews so I know it’s just me.
The narration is done in short sequences alternating between past and present, following Frankie’s train of thoughts. It lent a sort of impressionist air to the narrative which relies more on character observations than on any sort of plot.
“You were a child the first time the Saint of War came to you.”
So begins this short story featuring a Joan of Arc-type character in a twisted epic fantasy plot about free will and destiny and legend. It’s very satisfying and also very short, so I won’t give you more than the first line and also this one : “If they do not know you, they cannot fear you.”
Ce zine auto-publié par l’auteurice rassemble des nouvelles et des poèmes autour des violences médicales. Dis comme ça, ce n’est peut-être pas très engageant, mais les textes sont de grande qualité et servis avec des photographies qui renforcent le thème. J’ai beaucoup aimé, dans les nouvelles, l’inconfort qui s’installe et l’hésitation qui infuse les histoires. Face à des institutions qui semblent vouloir leur bien, certains personnages ne sont pas si sûr.e.s de leurs perceptions, et l’auteurice retranscrit à merveille cette hésitation.
Ce petit ouvrage tout à fait unique est tout à fait puissant et “packs a punch” comme disent les anglophones.
Lesbian necromancers in space, anyone ? That premise might sound too good to be true, but that book delivers. It is a wild ride, so dark and so fun at the same time.
Gideon was born in the Ninth House, a decrepit place full of decrepit people. She can’t wait to get out but when she finally makes an escape plan things don’t quite go according to plan and she ends up playing bodyguard for the Reverend Daughter, heir to the House, instead. In addition, they are invited to what is basically an escape game with candidates from the other eight houses in a weird palace in which things will definitely not go according to plan.
This book is so unique and, once again, pure fun. I giggled at the author’s way of describing things and people. Sure, over 18 characters were way too much for my tired brain to compute, but even then I had a great time following grumpy Gideon and grumpier Harrow (or the reverse — who knows who’d win a grumpy contest between those two). This book is filled to the brim with badassery, but also with heart, and it scratched an itch I didn’t know I had.