msorendreads's reviews
49 reviews

 

I seem to be on a fantasy kick but also specifically a T. Kingfisher fantasy kick. 

Last year, V.E. Schwab was my go-to author. And they still are (though I've read all their books so until they have more...). I think this year, T. Kingfisher has won me over. I've talked about Nettle & Bone. And I've talked about A Sorceress Comes to Call. And now I need to talk about Paladin's Grace, because it was nothing like the last two books and I think that's what makes it so good. 

Similar to V.E. Schwab, who says that none of their books are written for the same audience, T. Kingfisher's books are for different audiences as well. Nettle & Bone was for fans of fairytales and subtle feminist commentary. A Sorceress Comes to Call was for fans of witchcraft and mystery (with a side of supernatural). And Paladin's Grace is for fans of murder mysteries and dungeons and dragons. 

The book starts off by introducing Stephen, our Saint of Steel paladin, whose god died. What happens to a paladin when their god dies? 

Violent fits of rage, apparently, described as "the tide" and going berserk. 

From there, we learn there's a handful of things happening in this city:

Which is how we're introduced to our second main character, Grace. Grace is a perfumer --as in, she creates and sells perfumes. But to create these perfumes, she has to collect her ingredients from places like cemeteries. Where the Motherhood watching and waiting to accuse people of being witches. And so Grace and Stephen meet because she's being chased for witchcraft and Stephen is sworn to protect the innocent and they...pretend to be a prostitute and a John to get Grace away from the Motherhood.

Except Grace is tiny, awkward, and a bit weird. And Stephen is alarmingly charming, very confused, and also hates himself (as most paladins do). So this encounter is not sexy by any means and it's actually a fantastic introduction to romance.

From there, Stephen and Grace only interact a few more times by chance, and each time is just wildly uncomfortable because Grace refuses to admit she thinks Stephen is hot and Stephen hates himself and doesn't want to be even a little attracted to Grace because he's afraid he'll kill her if he succumbs to the tide. 

The story continues with the introduction of a handful of fun characters --Marguerite, a spy. Istvhan, another paladin. Tab, a weird weasel creature that makes several appearances. And the Bishop, who is in charge of the paladins and absolutely wants all of them to chill the hell out. 

The way the story is written is through changing POV's, switching between Grace and Stephen. It's a great way to get pieces of information from both sides --Stephen, who sees most things objectively and to the point, and Grace, who has no idea what to make of half the things going on because she's a civilian. I found the switching of point of views very well good and it transitioned well between the two. 

The world building is also very well done. While we only stay in the main city, we learn about cities that are nearby when we're introduced to the visiting prince. The city is open to different gods --there's the temple of the Hanged Mother and the temple of the Rat specifically, which are the two main groups. The Rat is who takes care of everyone; they provide shelter and lawyers and anything the people may need. The Motherhood handle witches and poisoners and are constantly accusing others of such. And again, they hate everyone and everything. However, the creation and introduction of these temples is fantastic --they're interesting, they're mysterious, and they serve an actual purpose to the story.

The romance is also very well done. It's an excellent example of two people who have lost so much and are afraid of losing more coming together with one another. Stephen's self-loathing and fear of hurting Grace is touching and frustrating, but there's no lack of communication. He says something that hurts her and apologizes soon after. Grace is straight up with Stephen when she begins finally giving into her feelings. There's no "will they, won't they" because you know they will because they both want to. It's not an issue of them not wanting to --it's an issue of working through their own flaws to get there. Also, the smut is good. There's no shame in this; Grace tells Stephen she doesn't like something and he immediately listens to her. It's well written, it's tasteful, and it's not over exaggerated smut. It's good.

I did find it a bit frustrating when so many things were introduced --there's someone cutting off people's heads, someone is trying to kill a visiting prince, Stephen is constantly trying to not give into the tide, and Grace is accused of a crime. Some of these things happen in the start of the book, but some of them are introduced halfway through, and I was getting concerned that all of these things wouldn't be wrapped up by the end of the book.

However, by the end, everything but the heads being cut off and the concern of the tide are wrapped up in a solid, satisfying way. The decapitations, however, continue on and the paladins are still trying to prevent themselves from giving into murderous rages. Turns out --this is not a standalone book but a series. So I am very excited to not only find out more about the decapitations, but also to learn more about these characters and the world that has been created in this book. 

Also, listen. I just really like paladins, okay? 

I don’t know. It just wasn’t capturing my attention like I thought it would. 

The first three books I've read this year have been eloquent, well-written with clear underlying themes. 

I cannot say the same for The Serpent and the Wolf. So I'm just going to get into it.

Our main character, Vaasa, is Not Like Other Girls™️and is forced to marry the very attractive and Jason Momoa-esque leader of a rival kingdom, Reid. She is violent, cruel, and overall just an asshole, honestly. I think I was supposed to find her desire to not get married and her escape plan to be exciting, but I found it to be annoying. The first half of the book simply follows Vaasa as she refuses to do anything even remotely productive --all while trying to fight off magic that's trying to kill her. 

If anything is written well, it's the development of Vaasa's magic and how she learns to control it. That's actually what I can speak highly on --Robinson does an excellent job creating this story and lore around the witches of her story...but doesn't expand on it as much as she could have. I really think the story would have been much better if there was more depth to the lore of the witches and not just Vaasa wanting to get the hell out of her marriage.

Reid's character is another positive point. Instead of being the tall, dark and morally grey love interest we know and love, Reid is forthcoming and open about what he wants and intends for the future of his marriage with Vaasa. Other than marrying her against her will (though he is not aware she wasn't on board with it), Reid actively gives Vaasa a choice in everything and talks about her in nothing but a positive way. Honestly, I really liked Reid's character, even though Vaasa hates him for like half the book.

The main antagonist is her brother, Dominik, who knows that if Vaasa marries, she's a threat to his throne. So he let's her get married.

To a rival kingdom?

Without argument?

Truthfully, he could have just not married her off and the entire story would have been been void. 

But then, if the story was voided, how else would we get introduced to the really unnecessary use of fingering to help...control Vaasa's magic? Listen, I understand that orgasms can help with a lot of things, but I cannot imagine that the magic --that, at this point, has been described as suffocating, rage-filled, and violent --can be dispelled by being fingered. 

Then, of course, we find out it isn't really the brother's choice to let Vaasa marry, but her dead mom's. And then in the last 50 pages of the book, there's 3 or 4 antagonists out of nowhere, all trying to kill Vaasa and Reid. It's just chaotic, honestly, and then it ends on a cliff hanger. 

And honestly? Honestly. 

I don't want to read a sequel to this book. I'm sure someone does, but that someone is not me.

 Remember how I said you'd be hard pressed to find The Perfect Book™️ within the first week of the year?

I'm not saying I did find it, but I think I came pretty close to it.

Nettle & Bone was not a book I originally intended to read. I actually only checked it out on Libby because I wanted another book by T. Kingfisher but it wasn't available, so I figured I'd give this one a shot. And good gods, am I glad I did. 

Nettle & Bone is what Blood Over Bright Haven was trying to do, I think. Tell a story about a corrupt system with underlying feminist opinion in a fastasy setting. The key difference (minus the fact that I did not imagine Elphaba the entire time I read this one, and the MC --Marra -- is not racist) between the two is that Nettle & Bone is far more subtle about it's message. More importantly, however, it tells an excellent story without being too on the nose about it all.

The leading character of the story is Marra, a princess from a harbor kingdom, who is the youngest of three daughters. Without spoiling too much, something happens to Marra's oldest sister and so the middle sister must marry the prince instead. Marra is sent away, because if she has a child, that child could steal the throne from her sister's husband and heir. Though, Marra makes it clear throughout the story that she has no interest in having children (a lead after my own heart, honestly). However, upon visiting her sister, Kania, Marra learns that Kania stays pregnant to avoid being abused. 

Marra does not like this, and decides that she's going to do something about it. And does something about it, she does.

From the beginning of the story, it read like a fairytale, which was it's intended goal. T. Kingfisher does an excellent job hopping between past and present moments, showing how Marra leaves her home and comes to terms with it. The world she's created in this book is amazing, really, and I want to know more about the Blighted Lands and the story behind it. 

More importantly, though, I want to know more about the dust-wife, which is a witch that Marra seeks out to save her sister. The dust-wife is never given a name, except when Fenris (the love interest) addresses her as "Lady Fox," after the witch pokes fun at Marra who has "build yourself a dog and found yourself a wolf. If a fox shows up looking for you, we'll have a proper fairy tale" (Kingfisher, 99). She's snarky and knowledgeable and completely whack, with her demon chicken, and I love the dust-wife, okay? I aspire to be that. 

Fenris is introduced about a third of the way in, after Marra is told she needs something to help save her sister. That something happens to be Fenris, who she saves using dental hygiene. Once again, if you're expecting romance, don't get your hopes up but do enjoy the very, very slow burn that is Marra accepting that he's not going to hurt her, that she might actually be attracted to him, and that he's a good person. It was an excellent introduction to romance without making the entire story about it, and still ensuring that Marra remains the one who is trying to save her sister, even though he's there to help.

Overall, I highly recommend Nettle & Bone. It's a short read (less than 300 pages), packed full of interesting moments and characters. I'm excited to get my hands on more books by T. Kingfisher, because if they're all even a slight bit like this, I'm going to enjoy them. 

 The old saying, "Don't judge a book by its cover!" doesn't seem to apply to actual books. At least, not in my opinion. I do frequently judge books by their covers --guilty as charged, it is how I pick out books I'm interested in. Blood Over Bright Haven is no different. The initial glance of the cover, with the typewriter and flames, immediately caught my eye. Upon further review, it was clear that this was definitely a book up my alley. 

I started Blood Over Bright Haven on January 1st and couldn't put it down --given it's Winter Break for me, I was able to finish it within 24 hours. A combination of religious and racial commentary as well as feminist prose, M.L. Wang combines three of the most controversial topics for a book to create a dark academic piece that builds lore around treatment of the Kwen people as well as women. 

A little preachy at some points, and more academic than fantasy in others, Blood Over Bright Haven is pretty good. It could be better, though you'll be hard pressed to find The Perfect Book™️the second day of the year. The main character, Sciona, is a brilliant, if not a bit rude and stand-offish, mage whose goal is to become the first ever woman archmage in her city (truthfully, the entire time, I was picturing Elphaba while I read it but Sciona is not green so I don't know why). The whole basis of the first quarter of the book is dedicated to Sciona proving she is absolutely the best magic user amongst the men she works with. All while teaching a Kwen man --Thomil --about magic because her colleague thought it would be funny to make the janitor her assistant. If you're hoping for romance, don't get your hopes up too high, though. 

The Kwen very obviously represent a minority group, often being insulted and called savages, monsters, heathens, etc. throughout the story, even by Sciona. Thomil is introduced in the start of the book and he's an important part of the narrative, though he mostly just calls Sciona out on her comments and unintentional racism. However, he's also introduced as the opposite to Sciona's hyper-intelligent, "believes in another deity so we may not get along" love interest. Sciona has interalized bias, being raised to believe that the Kwen people are less than those of Tiran --the city in which they live, founded by God who sent tablets to the founding mage then told him to create the utopia they live in. 

Does that sound familiar? God, stone tablets that gave all the rules and commandments, utopias and the tablets disappearing again? If you also thought, "Mormons?" then you and I shared the same thought process. From then on, I read the book as a woman losing her religion and learning that just because she was taught it was okay doesn't actually means its okay. 

While it's not my favorite book, it is still a solid read. I do recommend it, if you're interested in religious trauma and feminism with a side of being called out on casual racism. 

 I've slowly made my way through Jon Krakauer's works over the last year. I started with Under the Banner of Heaven while on my honeymoon in January of 2024, so it only felt fitting to finish his work the same week, a year later. I've always had an interest in personal accounts of tragic stories, if anything because I have morbid curiosity in such things. Krakauer's catalog of works scratches the itch I have in my brain for that. 

Into Thin Air was published in 1996, following Krakauer's expedition to the summit of Mount Everest. I had a general idea of why he was there in the first place --as a journalist, for a magazine that wanted to do a piece on climbing the mountain --but I had not realized he was part of the famously tragic March 1996 expedition. What I didn't realize, until after I picked up the book, was that he wasn't simply at Base Camp but actually going to the summit.  

For those who don't know, in March of 1996, several teams of climbers paid thousands of dollars to be lead up the mountain. Some of these people were experienced climbers and some weren't by any means. Krakauer falls under the "experienced" category, though he admits it had been a while since he climbed by the time he ascended Everest. It's not the ascent that proved disastrous, however, but the descent. Multiple issues arose, weather turned against them, and by the time they reached Camp 4, many of the climbers had died.

I'm not going into the full story, because that's the point of the book. 

I found the book to be very well written, if not a little chaotic at points as well as stressful. Because I have some prior knowledge about the expedition, I think knowing that something bad is going to happen to the people makes it hard to read, 29 years after. I kept thinking, "Why isn't Rob [the guide] turning them around like he said?" or "How can they do this to their bodies?" Perhaps that's the sign of a good story --true or not --if you have anxiety as you're waiting for the worst to happen.

Because it's his personal account of what happened, there are missing pieces. More importantly, even with interviews with people from the expedition, Krakauer admits that there are moments that none of them can agree on how it happened. I think he does a good job at addressing this, explaining that his account may be biased but he needed to get it out of his system. After experiencing something as traumatic as the 1996 Everest expedition, I don't blame him for wanting to get everything out on paper. 

He does not defend his actions --or lack of, perhaps. He doesn't hurt anyone intentionally with his story, nor does he hurt anyone intentionally on the expedition. But he does explain why he lacked in what happened. "...the actuality of what had happened --of what was still happening --began to sink in with paralyzing force," he explains in the book. "I was physically and emotionally wrecked after having just spent an hour scouring the South Col for Andy Harris; the search had left me convinced he was dead" (Krakauer, 305). He goes onto to explain that, by the time he had returned to camp, he was facing hypoxia effects and there was little to no supplemental oxygen. The only camp radio left had died. 

With everything working against him, it's clear that he feels survivor's guilt for everything that happened, even if it wasn't his fault. He addresses this, and explains that it was part of why he needed to write this story.

Overall, Into Thin Air is an excellent read. If you, like me, have a morbid curiosity as to why people do things like climb Everest as well as are curious about the impacts of the tragic outcomes that can come from it, this is a great book to read. One of the other guides, Anatoli Boukreev, wrote what's essentially a counterargument against Krakauer's perspective, which I will be picking up to compare the two.