I loved the first third of the book when I thought the story was, “A young man raised to believe magic is real has to deal with finding out that neither it nor the monsters he was raised to fight actually exist”. However, it soon became apparent that that wasn't where the book was going. The narrative was consistently invested in keeping readers off kilter as to whether/how magic was or was not real. I think we get an answer at the very end, but it feels like I spent the whole book being juked, so when it does finally pick a direction I’m tired instead of being excited that I finally know. 

The main characters are adults when most of the narrative takes place, but it’s ambiguous as to how many of the flashbacks featuring descriptions of abuse took place when they were teens. That made me very uncomfortable. It’s a book about abuse and pain, and I don’t feel like I got enough aftercare as a reader. 

The world building is minimal, I don’t have a good understanding of what day-to-day life was actually like before the book started, after the first couple of chapters the main details of life in the compound are all about the abuse. The abuse is definitely a focus, but it makes it hard to understand why anyone would stay. Not to question why anyone actually ends up staying in a cult, I mean, but you think there would be some camaraderie or warmth or positive *something* between the members, and if it was there the book doesn’t show it. It’s extremely focused on a handful of characters and doesn’t appear to care much about any of the others. The handling of the FBI agent also felt a little too neat, especially when we find out why she’s the one involved. 

There’s a point of view character and a secondary character where I don’t know why they’re in the book. I understand what they do, but it’s so minimal that, for the secondary character, if she weren’t in the book at all I wouldn’t notice. It feels like she’s there so that one of the MCs can be uncompromising in a particular scene and still have things work out okay. The POV character who felt irrelevant technically had a different perspective than the other main characters, but most of their role in the story could’ve been absorbed by one of the others with very little change. It felt like they existed as a cautionary tale, ready to infodump when needed and stay away when they weren’t being useful. 

It's very hard to pull off an ending that is basically, "hey, we can power the machines by laughter instead of screams" á la the movie "Monsters, Inc" (2001), when the first 70% of the book is dedicated to making it unclear whether the machines are powered at all by anything, or if electricity even works. Lark's rose-colored glasses and insistence that magic is real made it feel like he got to exit the book without growing at all. He escaped an abusive situation, and I'm glad for him, he seems like he's in a better place, but I really dislike the ending, I think it undercuts what was so good about the start of the book. What hooked me was the prospect of watching someone slowly realize that their life had been a lie, finally getting objective proof that they were wrong, and having to deal with the emotional wreckage of that. What happens instead is that we find out they were right that it's real, and his journey is that he learns he can just use a different source. I have so many questions about the version of reality where if you think magic is real you can just do magic and other people can see it too. That would utterly transform everything about the setting, it just couldn't be the same setting if people really casually did magic. 

If this were a psychological horror novel I would love it so much, though the ending and a few middle scenes would have to change, but the “actually magic is real you just don’t have to power it with pain” ending undercuts all the rest of the stuff with the cult. The idea that “magic is real and requires pain, and nothing is worth the pain of children” can take you really cool places, and this book decided not to go to any of them, so at the end I just feel confused and lost. If you're going to hook me with the intro and then subvert the premise, your subversion needs to be better than playing it straight.

Subtle and enthralling, UNDER THE PENDULUM SUN is the story of a young woman who follows her missionary brother to the lands of the fae, only to discover that the truth hurts more than any lie.

With a slight grin that never reaches its eyes, this book whispers, “I’m not trapped here with you, you’re trapped here with me.” It’s a mostly quiet story which has some elements of horror based around a visitor’s everyday routines under the inconstant light of the pendulum sun in the lands of the fae. It runs on conversation, small moments, and fridge-horror realizations as slowly learning what this place is casts a new light on everything we’ve seen done there. 

The world-building is deep and beautiful. It’ll definitely help to have some familiarity with some version of the christian bible and various apocrypha, but their use and most references are contextualized and explained very well within the story so it should make sense without that. It mostly adds poignancy, and gets to the heart of some scenes faster if you already know the passages and parables being referenced. The setting and various denizens are slowly revealed as the story strolls along, saving wonders for calm moments of revelation.

Brief warning about triggering tropics:

Due to a historical connection between descriptions of changelings and autistic people, the depiction of changelings in this book may be triggering to some readers. The book does not address autism specifically, but the particular list of "what makes a changeling inhuman" in this book has a high degree of overlap with allistic descriptions of autism and autistic people, and actively triggers disassociation in some of the characters. I don't know if the parallels were intended, but they are uncomfortable, especially given the fates of the characters involved.

Full of terror and longing, SCARECROW is a short story about boys at and after a funeral, slowly twisted by their guilt.

RAVEN STRATAGEM is an excellent continuation of the story begun in NINEFOX GAMBIT, shown through new eyes and exploring more of the people within the pervasive and all-consuming empire via fantastic space battles and subtle political machinations.

The prose is idea-dense in a way that makes it difficult to describe what happened, but each moment is fascinating. I didn't ever feel lost, just like I knew what all the pieces were but not how they fit together until towards the end. 

This series in general and this book in particular are relentlessly queer, it's so great. There's consistent in-universe terminology which separates physical form from gender identity, and several pronoun changes are effortlessly handled. I use the term "casually queer" to describe books where characters are queer and it's no big deal and this feels this the epitome of what I mean when I use that term. I couldn't even tell you for certain that anyone was allocishet, it's just not that kind of setting. Some of this was in the first book, but it's very obvious in this one and I loved it.

The characterization is really good, both for individuals and for the various factions, especially since the factions have such an outside roll in everyone’s personalities. There was this nice synergy where just by learning someone’s faction I could know a little bit about them, and if they were more than a minor character I would get even more as the text spent time with them. It was a very graceful way to handle such a large cast, and the faction naming conventions were very helpful in this regard. The faction politics were a perfect mix between unwieldly grandiose (as befits a centuries-old empire) and understandable in their details. It explores how people fit in, why they don't, and what happens when they have to choose between breaking for the system and breaking it.

On to the sequel check! It wraps up several things left hanging from the previous book. The main storyline starts in this book and wasn't present in the first one. Several major things are introduced and resolved within this book. It doesn't leave many very specific things to be picked up in the next book, but it leaves many grand things not yet accomplished because they're too big for one volume, and the ending makes it clear that they will be the topic of the final book. The MC changed, almost all of the narrators were new this time around and they all had distinctive voices, it was pretty easy to keep track of who was who and remember their relevant motivations. I think this would almost entirely make sense if you picked it up at random and didn't know about the series. By changing narrators it naturally incorporates a lot of exposition from different angles than the ones in the first book, which does some very cool things: new information is available, old information feels new because it's filtered through different minds, and exposition felt like just part of the story. I definitely recommend starting with the first book, its whole point is to immerse you in Jedaro's backstory so that the events in this book have emotional weight behind them, but the actual plot is very understandable, even without the first book. 

This keeps much of the style I liked from the first book, we're given even more ways to understand this system. I love this series and I’m definitely going to read the next book. If you liked the first one you'll love this piece of the saga.

I plan to try again with this one, I just wasn’t in the right headspace to read it, then my library checkout expired.

DNF page 111 (27% in).
At first I like the lighthearted tone, but then what was initially sweet started feeling cloying: intense without any heft to it, and no relief. Most moments which seemed like they should have emotional weight and importance just didn’t land for me. Scenes which could have been intense were diffused with humor or antics almost instantly. I like humorous tones sometimes, but when nothing is taken seriously the jokes stop feeling funny. I disliked every scene with the MC’s dad (the few that there were). The MC is oblivious about pretty much everything, and it made me want to yell at the book to get, just, anything about what was going on. I stopped trusting that it would handle anything well, and the way the dad controls the MC's medication didn't feel good.

I’m uncomfortable with the sheer number of descriptions of things that somehow involve people’s bodies in a sexual manner even when nothing sexual is even happening. It felt like everything was couched in terms of a male/female binary. The thing that made me stop was one character’s casual description of circumcision and female genital mutilation as equivalent and positive things to do to children’s bodies. It’s possible that the overall stance of the book doesn’t condone this (authors are not their characters, after all), but I’m too distressed to read more and find out.

LATE ECLIPSES is a satisfying landing point for Toby Daye, offering mysteries and resolutions to things left open from the first three books. The exposition/refreshers early in the book are handled really well. They’re detailed enough to make sense if someone stumbled on this volume randomly or if it’s been a while since starting the series, but not so picky as to slow down the current story, and usually they’re necessary to the actual plot, so seamless that they don’t feel like exposition even though I know they are. A lot of the tension is from Toby not being believed by people who ought to know better, while being championed from unexpected quarters. I'm very happy about developments related to her Fetch, and was quietly amused by the surprise of "your deus-ex-machina" is not available this time", forcing the MC to get her answers the painful way, as befits a true October Daye novel. I didn't like this quite as much as an individual story as, for example, AN ARTIFICIAL NIGHT (my favorite so far), but this one is really important for tying up and redefining a bunch of stuff we already knew from the first few books. Every book so far has shifted the status quo for at least one knowe or realm in key ways, and this one reckons with the openings and weaknesses left by those changes.

Time for the sequel check! This entry relies heavily on knowledge of the first three books in a way that sometimes is wrapping up hanging threads, and sometimes is transforming our understanding of things we thought were resolved already. It does have a storyline which starts here and wasn't present previously, and the most major one was introduced and resolved within this book. It's not the last book and it specifically leaves a bunch of things to be answered later because they're too much to wrap up neatly here. The MC didn't change, and her voice is consistent with the previous books. This is the first time in the series where I can definitely say that it won't make a lot of sense without having read the previous books. It's a "series so far" climax, relying heavily on events from the first and third books, and lightly on the second. While the main plot could make sense without the other volumes, the tension won't be as high and the resolution won't be as satisfying without knowledge of ROSEMARY AND RUE and AN ARTIFICIAL NIGHT, at minimum.

There's still random sprinklings of ableist language, much less than in A LOCAL HABITATION, but not quite gone yet. I've heard it gets better on this front, so I'm watching for that turning point.

As an individual story, this one is fine, but as the next entry in this series it feels very pivotal. I'm very excited about certain interpersonal developments in Toby's various friendships and found-family relationships, and the resolution was satisfying as well as indicating a clear thread for later books to follow.

Did not finish, 14% in. Maybe I’ll try this again someday, but the mood whiplash from the very early, very graphic death which kicks off the plot was too much for me. The plot shocked me and then meandered for a while, I’m sure it has a destination but I’m not ready right now for the journey.