abbie_'s Reviews (1.79k)

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC of The Palace of Eros, out in the UK in August! Cantoras is one of my all time favourites and so I had high hopes for this one - which I’m glad to say were met!! I did think this was going to be a perfect, no notes read (the first half was for me), and while it wasn’t flawless, it’s still in my top reads for the year so far and is just such a gorgeous depiction of desire, love and gender fluidity.

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I’m not at all familiar with Greek mythology, which may be a benefit to me - it meant I could just appreciate this story of Eros and Psyche as it was, without comparisons to the original. In Caro de Robertis’ version, Eros is a nonbinary deity (using various pronouns throughout) and as you may expect in a novel about the goddess of desire, it gets spicy 👀 But it was like, flowery spice - the prose is absolutely gorgeous, all honey and silk and the like. Nothing is generally stated in simple terms but that doesn’t stop the spice.

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Psyche whisked away from a miserable life being subjected to male desire constantly, apparently bringing shame to her family despite them encouraging the lecherous mens’ behaviour. Aphrodite grows jealous of this mortal woman drawing attention from her, and sends Eros to sort it out. But Eros falls instead, devising a plan to whisk Psyche away to a palace built just for them.

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In a way my feelings about the book mirrored Psyche’s journey - enraptured at first, but slowly beginning to want more. Eros’ palace promises freedom - all the food and sex and painting and weaving Psyche could desire - but that freedom has its limits, both physical and metaphorical. I want to stress that I did not lose interest, but once the problems started to occur, I was a tad less mesmerised by the story. However, still a lot of good stuff going on, particularly around gender and power and the way women are expected to be passive and shallow, but Psyche realising that she has the capacity to be anything she wants to be. I obviously also loved Eros being nonbinary, refusing to exist in one box or another, as others would prefer, but to exist completely without boundaries.

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I have seen some other reviewers comment on whether the attitudes of other Greek gods towards Eros was ‘accurate’ in terms of that society, but here my obliviousness about Greek mythology plays in my favour, as such details did not detract from my enjoyment of the story at all.

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Overall, stunning prose, incredible chemistry, gorgeous characters, just a beauty of a retelling!

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC!

This was a tough read - perhaps surprising to no one given it's pitched as the #MeToo meets Kim JiYoung, Born 1982. It starts out with a woman living in the aftermath of a domestic abuse case with her ex-partner, a colleague, which has resulted in a shit storm of social media hate - aimed at her. Another Person explores the culture of sexual violence against women in South Korea (specifically on university campuses), the misogyny that's ingrained in a lot of South Korean men, as well as beauty standards and colourism. 

It's absolutely an infuriating read, and about midway through it did start to grind me down a bit, become tiresome. We spend a lot of time in the heads of and interacting with men who firmly believe women to be inferior. Men who claim to be feminists then go on to spout the most misogynistic drivel you've ever heard. Men who use back-handed compliments and gaslighting to manipulate women into staying in abusive relationships. Men who think women owe them something for doing something vaguely kind. Men who prey on vulnerable and lonely girls. Often times the women don't fare much better. It's brutal the way some of them turn on other girls, quick to slut-shame and victim blame, turning mean and cold so that they don't find themselves associated with girls with a 'reputation'. But there is a note of hope as the women in the book overcome the competitiveness society tries to ingrain in them, in order to life and support one another. 

This book flits between timelines and perspectives, showing how everyone knows someone who's been affected in some way by sexual violence. However, the storylines started to get a bit jumbled for me. It would be difficult for a while to figure out who was speaking, and which period we were in. 

Also I learned while reading this book that South Korea has something legally defined as 'quasi-rape' so that was fun. 

A must-read if you're looking for a book that explores the MeToo movement and sexual violence, but just go in prepared. 

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC!

I've read both of Baek Se-hee's very vulnerable, open and honest memoirs about her battles with mental health in quite close succession. Having struggled with my own depression and anxiety over the last however many years, I'm grateful these books exist, even if they do not resonate with me massively. They are important as they show that no two people's mental health journeys are the same, but all are valid. Your pain is valid, your suffering is valid, and the comparison game will serve no one. 

My main issue remained the same as the first book - I would have preferred a reflection on her sessions with her psychologist as opposed to just the unedited transcripts of their sessions. 

However, I had another issue with this one, namely their psychologist's actions. I'm in no way qualified to even speak on mental health care in the form of psychologists in the UK, never mind South Korea, but I don't think offering to prescribe someone clearly struggling with body image and disordered eating appetite suppressants... That was a sizeable red flag to me. Se-hee also talks positively about a 'diet camp' she attended for three weeks where you basically exercise for hours a day? Again, no idea what the norm is in South Korea for this type of thing, but it seems like nothing but body dysmorphia could come out of such a 'camp'.

That made it a difficult read for me personally, but I must reiterate that I'm extremely glad Se-hee has had the courage to make her story public. I'm sure it will give many people the courage they need to seek help with their mental health. 

I was so immersed in this book that I didn't even stop reading to write notes for my review - which is very annoying for present me two months later. However, I do remember being completely sucked in by these three alternating narratives, featuring three different women all with links to a rubbish dump in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico. There's a young girl who's abandoned by her mother and her boyfriend forced to survive on her own living in the dump. There's a doctor conducting social research about the folks who live at the dump. Finally there's Reyna, a trans sex worker who is probably the driving force of the narrative. Her sections are narrated using a forceful second person, and at times you feel like she's reaching through the pages and shaking you by the shoulders. She constantly laments and mourns the trans sisters she has lost to transphobia and femicide, taking on a decidedly tough-love guardian angel role. 

Genuinely such an original and fascinating story, I might read it again at some point.
Translated from the Spanish by J.D. Pluecker (with a fantastic translator's note).

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC!

I always enjoy a collection of interwoven short stories, and Behind You is the Sea was no exception. It follows several Christian Palestinian-American characters as they navigate relationships, both familial and romantic, grief, racism, cultural appropriation, terminal illness and more. Other reviewers have pointed out that there is some problematic depictions of a 'hero' police officer, plus the story featuring an autistic child could have benefitted from a sensitivity reader (the story uses outdated terms for autism & the mother is grateful her son doesn't have 'a more serious disability'). But I think overall there is a lot this collection offers in terms of the Christian Palestinian-American experience. As Tasnim (@reads.and.reveries) pointed out in her review, these perspectives are all too often erased as they do not serve the narrative the white west tries to push of Palestine. 

I think my favourite story was Worry Beads, which follows a lawyer with a troubled personal past. Her marriage ended in violence and as a result she was unjustly cast out of her family home. But she meets someone new, aged 40, and there is such a joyous depiction of finding love in 'later' life. But amid the new love, Darraj portrays the tragedy of dementia, which robs us of the people we love even as they're still here. 

A moving read, with some shortcomings, but one I'd still recommend with caution to the content warnings. 

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC!

I read and really enjoyed Gina Chung's debut Sea Change last year, so I was excited to be approved for her latest offering. And I'm happy to say that this short story collection did not disappoint! Chung spans a sizeable range of genres and subject matter, from fantasy and fable-esque stories, family dramas rooted in reality, and speculative fiction with robots and wild technology. 

Despite not being a massive sci-fi reader, the two primarily sci-fi focused stories were probably some of my favourites. Attachment Processes follows a young couple mourning the death of their daughter who decide to try out a new technology which gives you back the person you lost at a determined age - but they'll never age out of that age. Then there's Presence, which follows a disgraced scientist after she took the fall for a scandal at her company which offered memory tech. Users could choose to upload memories to a cloud, offloading traumatic memories from their brains. But there's a clear warning about the potential dangers such technology could have, how facing up to our less-pleasant memories forms us as people. 

Of course, I also love a family drama and there were plenty which focused on mother-daughter relationships and romantic ones, in varying stages of disintegration. The Arrow was desperately sad - a mother and daughter who had never been close come together when the daughter accidentally falls pregnant. But their budding new relationship soon comes to an abrupt end. Other stories tackle the Asian-American immigrant experience, parental expectations, the challenges of interracial relationships, mental health, religious hypocrisy, grief, second chances - honestly so much! 

A wide-ranging collection, beautifully written, that I'd definitely recommend!

My thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC!

It feels cliché to compare an Italian woman writer’s book about two young girls forming a fierce friendship to Elena Ferrante but… I’m gonna do it anyway. Because I genuinely think that if you were a fan of the Neapolitan Novels, you’ll also really enjoy The Cursed Friend. It’s set earlier than Ferrante’s quartet, in 1930s Italy against the backdrop of the Italian invasion of Ethiopia. Books with a colonial slant often focus on bigger empires like the British and French, so I do appreciate the reminder of the atrocities smaller nations inflicted in the name of so-called empire. It’s also a scary reminder of how easily ‘normal’ people can bend to fascism.

But Maddalena and Francesca’s friendship is the true focus of this book, and Salvioni does an excellent job of depicting that obsessive, all-consuming bond formed between younger teenage girls. There’s a unique twist in that Maddalena is somewhat of an outcast in their town, spoken of by other children and adults alike as ‘the cursed one’. Francesca risks her own social status to be close to her.

Salvioni also tackles sexual violence among young girls in 1930s Italy, with several characters falling victim to male predators. It goes to some dark places, and the double standards and unjust treatment of women twill have you raging. Recommended if you like your female characters full of howling rage at the world.

Translated from the Italian by Elena Pala.

I have to admit I found this book, particularly as an audiobook, a tad dull. It’s very much tell and no show, full of mostly dialogue and ‘action’ (such as it is), without much insight into the characters’ inner lives or motivations. This is most likely since it’s told from the POV of a child, Eddie, a Syilx boy growing up in the 50s. Isaac explores the lives of Indigenous people through Eddie’s eyes - precarious work, addiction, racism, lack of care from the government for their basic necessities. But the story kind of just plods along, lacking a pull. This changed at the ending - that ending did have my heart in my throat.

As the title suggests, definitely a quiet but heavy read, and perhaps audio wasn’t the best route. 

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for my free digital ARC!

Crows and piss, piss and crows, that plus the most uncomfortable depiction of female obsession I’ve read in a while is what makes up K-Ming Chang’s latest offering. When I read Paradise Rot by Jenny Hval, I thought for sure that was the pissiest book I’d ever read, but somehow Cecilia has topped it with the amount of piss mentioned. 

I didn’t love it but I also didn’t hate it. I’m a lover of weird fiction but this one sometimes veered into too nebulous a territory even for me. The magical regenerating liver and the crows had me scratching my head. 

However, as mentioned, the depiction of obsessive desire is immaculate. Seven is fully consumed by Cecilia - if you liked Eileen, you might like this one too. There’s a section where Seven rhapsodises about a balloon Cecilia got her for her birthday - because it’s filled with her breath. It goes on for several pages and I’ve never felt so creeped out by a balloon. It’s extraordinary levels of details really.

One for you if you love a gross, weird, queer little read. 

Another audiobook plucked from the depths of my Scribd catalogue thanks to audiobook roulette. It was one of those catch 22 audiobooks for me, where I know a little way in that I’d enjoy it more as a print book, but I’m already hooked on the story so I’ll keep listening even though I know I’ll end up not enjoying it as much as I could 😭 It follows the lives of three generations of Japanese-Canadian women, but it jumps around POVs and time periods which made it tricky to follow on audio. I sort of just let the beautiful language wash over me and came away with more of a vague feeling of appreciation than any deep remembrances of the characters and their inner lives. A shame, but you never know, I might come back to it in print one day!