booksthatburn's Reviews (1.46k)

THE CAPITAL isn't really the first book in a trilogy, it is the first third of a ~600-page book. I became aware of this thanks to other reviews when I was about halfway through it, but i went ahead to finish it so that I can evaluate it for myself. To treat it as part one of a book I would have to not review it, but also it presents itself in some places as the first book in a series.

Nothing is really resolved, and it ends at a rather dramatic cliffhanger, clearly designed to get someone to pick up the next volume. 

The world building involves a lot of medieval fantasy politics, with homosexuality only recently being decriminalized, and the kingdom about to get its first queen after a history of only kings. This makes it a queer fantasy in the context of lingering prejudices and recent terror, especially for the necromancer who comes from a place that hasn't updated these policies. 

The dialogue is okay but not amazing. I prefer witty and dialogue-heavy books and while this certainly attempts a lot of banter it's neither deep nor informative. I don't have a great sense of coherency for the world building, as it seems to have a kind of generalized approach to the magic system. One of the more blatant instances of this is when the necromancer refers to the river as the River Styx, a place which is pretty firmly grounded in Greco-Roman mythology and doesn't fit with the generically European medieval feel of the rest of the story. The overall effect is one too ambiguous to create its own mythology, but randomly specific enough to be jarring.

Overall this was fun but left me a bit frustrated. If I stop now then I'll get no resolution, but I haven't yet decided what to do.

SPELLBOUND is set in the 1920s United States during Prohibition (with the addition of magic), which means that alcohol features pretty heavily in the novel. Prohibition was a real period in U.S. history when alcohol was illegal, which in practice meant that everyone who drank did so covertly and generally with drinks of less quality. Many people still drank, especially the rich. Enter Arthur, the son of a congressman with progressive policies in a sea of xenophobia and racism. The bit about his father's politics seems means as a shorthand for why Arthur's personal character is so good. It's ultimately immaterial (at least in this first book), since a narrative about how he's accepting when his family is intolerant would have just as much of an impact on the story. His best friend is a Black woman, and he doesn't care that Rory is Italian, the son of an immigrant. 

There are a few deliberate aspects of the characterization which are so blatant as to be either an instant turn-off or the reason someone might want to read this book. The first is the age gap between the two main characters. The dynamic between them is built on Arthur, the older, rich man, wanting to help Rory, the younger and quite poor man, whether or not he wants the assistance. The first place that this shows up is when they go to a speakeasy, and (lying that's he's twenty-six when he's actually twenty) Rory has his first drink of alcohol, and then several more. Arthur (in his late twenties) helps the drunken Rory to a safe place to sleep it off. Arthur seems to not understand the effect that his position and money has on Rory. He definitely thinks that he isn't being coercive when he tells Rory that he will cancel a particular debt if Rory does what he wants, but Rory feels very manipulated by this and like he doesn't have a choice. Arthur seems to think that it's all fine and not actually manipulative because he paid the debt before he knew whether Rory would do what he asked. 

The switch from just kind of lusting after each other to being in love is very sudden. The beginnings of their lust for each other is even more sudden, Arthur loves Rory's curls from almost his first glimpse of him. Likewise, it does not take Rory very long to start enjoying Arthur's bossiness as much as it exasperates him.

My general frustration is that it has so many elements that I normally enjoy and so I oscillated between enjoying the banter and then being thrown out of the moment when the characters just push past something that needs to either not be a factor or get way more examination. I prefer stories where the characters originally think it can't possibly work, but they find out more about each other and their situations they realize that they can. In SPELLBOUND, Arthur thinks that they are close in age and that Rory is just an employee of the person he needs for his scheme. What's actually happening is that Rory is eight years younger, with life experiences which are few and generally traumatic in nature, and he's the one whose cooperation Arthur needs for his scheme. Over and over, Arthur dismisses the actual issues and power imbalances and worries about the ones which are misreadings of a situation. I don't have a problem with a gap age gap relationships in fiction where both parties are adults. One thing that kept bothering me was that the more they learned about each other the more it seemed as though the only think keeping everything okay is that the author wanted it to be fine. The other frustrating thing was how often Rory is described aesthetically and positively in terms of just how young he looks, especially in comparison to Arthur. It's like the story wants to have it both ways, both that Rory is a full adult and is mature enough to be in a relationship with Arthur, and that part of what Arthur likes is how much of a kid Rory still is. It also feels very unearned, because as much as Rory insists that he actually is mature, the story itself doesn't really bear that out. Late in the narrative, Rory gets very jealous when some women are flirting with Arthur in a social setting. Rory is the one pushing for the relationship to deepen and be more physical, but because he hasn't had any other partners he doesn't know what exactly he wants beyond more intimacy with Arthur. 

Ultimately it's hard for me to enjoy a story that seems like a pile of red flags that the characters keep ignoring. Due to genre and story tone it'll probably work out, but this was a frustrating reading experience and I probably won't finish the series.

Hard to understand what’s happening.

Focuses too much on a particular topic that's triggering to me.

The novellas of The Singing Hills Cycle are meant to be able to be read in any order, interchangeable and episodic. The latest entry, INTO THE RIVERLANDS, achieves that with a meandering series of stories, interruptions, and anecdotes as Chih and Almost Brilliant travel in the riverlands with a mix of persons. It's not trying to wrap up anything left hanging, the storyline is entirely new and self-contained, and the entire tale is both introduced and resolved. It's not the last book in the series, but it also doesn't specifically leave anything left hanging for later. The floating nature of the story is carried off well. While I am reading them in order (mostly due to discovering the series when only the first book was available), I do concur that they would make sense in whatever order the reader is so inclined to use. Chih has a transformative experience which is said to be new to them thus far, but it's not so life-changing as to render the previous stories into a distinct "before" and "after" that might be jarring if read out of order. Their voice as a main character is consistent with earlier books, which is especially important as they and Almost Brilliant are the main points of continuity within the series (with the idea of the Singing Hills Temple as a refrain but not an actuality thus far).

INTO THE RIVERLANDS is a rambling tale, where Chih is being told stories, often in the somewhat messy and multilayered manner of a group of near-strangers who know similar tales, and may have shared backgrounds, but where each has their own version. Towards the end, there is a reveal that re-contextualized many of the stories. I suspect that if I reread the book I would find that it is even more looping and connected than I was able to understand the first time. I like books which have some kind of revelation that changes the way that the rest of the story is perceived or understood, and I’m also impressed that such a short story conveys so much and has such an interesting twist. It might, however, make the story feel confusing and a bit pointless, because only a couple of things happen in the midst of all the stories. It's definitely not pointless, and it fits in well with the broader series. Almost as soon as I finished I wanted to read it again to understand it better.

Chih has been in danger elsewhere in the series, but this time they are confronted with the messy and logistical realities of death and its aftermath in a way they've never been before. In a previous book, they were in danger of being killed, but it was not the kind of danger that involved them having to figure out what to do with bodies afterward. This time while traveling through the river lands, the group comes a body. There's a mark from the Hollow Hand, a once prominent and terrifying group whose current iteration is composed of whatever group decides that claiming an affiliation would strike fear in victims and bystanders.

I’m glad this is a novella because the way it meanders feels random and unconnected at first and it might have been boring in a longer story. However, as a novella, it had just the right amount of time to cultivate the impression of people traveling together and telling each other stories before they're suddenly interrupted first by death and second by danger.

*Contains spoilers for THE BONE SHARD DAUGHTER and THE BONE SHARD EMPEROR.

I love this book so much! I did not want it to be over and I lingered over it as much as is possible with an audiobook, having a fantastic time. THE BONE SHARD WAR is the conclusion of the Drowning  Empire Trilogy, a story of memory, identity, and connection in the context of a war filled with greed, shifting loyalties, and magic arising from unexpected sources. 

As a sequel, and the final book in the trilogy, THE BONE SHARD WAR wraps up pretty much everything I could think of in ways that range from surprising to satisfying, but all of them wonderful to read. Jovis has an entirely new phase in his life, this time he is coerced and magically enslaved by an enemy rather than his previous state of voluntarily working with Lin. Lin, two years after being told that Jovis was dead, is trying to do what is necessary to hold the empire together, slowly beginning to understand that holding the empire together at any cost might not be what's best for the people within it. None of the storylines are wholly new, but they are in new phases which are distinct from the first two books. Finally the characters start to understand the connections between the various sources of magic, and solve mysteries related to the white bladed swords. 

I wish this weren't the end of the trilogy because this world is very cool and I love so many of the characters. This doesn't try to redeem every villain, but rather it gives most characters an arc that makes sense for them. While this particular phase of these characters' lives is distinct and largely self contained, the context of the first two books matters enormously. What Lin is starting to realize about the moral implications of being an emperor represents a change in her thinking from earlier. It's not quite the same arc as what Phalue went through , but they realize related things for similar reasons. The end of the book as it relates to Lin and Jovis is so much more meaningful when earlier context is understood, and the story of Ranami, Phalue, and their adopted daughter likewise showcases hardship and personal growth that is an extension of previous events. 

I remain impressed with the audiobook narrators, they did an excellent job once again. If you liked the first two books then you'll love THE BONE SHARD WAR as a satisfying conclusion to the whole trilogy. The final chapters take the time to show where people end up and give an idea of their next steps. The final quarter does so much to wrap everything up that the ending gets to be a bit calm and lingering, not needing to cram in a dozen loose threads at the last minute. It kept me on tenterhooks as to how a couple of things would wrap up, but they're very character-focused questions not related to any kind of plot mystery. I'm satisfied and a bit sad that the story is over, I'll definitely keep an eye out for more from this author in the future.

"A Foul Thing" follows Roma and Juliette after the events of OUR VIOLENT ENDS, taking place during the events of FOUL LADY FORTUNE. "This Foul Murder" takes place almost immediately afterwards, starring Benedikt and Marshall.

As a sequel, LAST VIOLENT CALL addresses several important things left uncertain after OUR VIOLENT ENDS, specifically the fates of Roma and Juliette. It contains a new storyline related to their lives away from Shanghai, when someone approaches them for help. Technically the storyline related to the people they help is both introduced and resolved here, but so much of it is related to the broader context of FOUL LADY FORTUNE that it wouldn’t make very much sense without having read the first three books of the series. In "This Foul Murder", Marshall and Benedikt are on a week-long train ride at Roma and Juliette's behest when one of the passengers is messily murdered.  

LAST VIOLENT CALL is definitely not the last book in the series, The very premise of this book contains so many spoilers that it should absolutely not be read before the first three novels in the main series. 

I like "A Foul Thing". Given the broader context supplied by the earlier books, it is in turn sweet and deadly, surpassing any expectations I might’ve had for what an additional glimpse of Roma and Juliette could be. "This Foul Murder" has many very sweet moments between Marshall and Benedikt, giving a much better sense of their dynamic once they're officially a couple and away from Marshall's family. The murder investigation is lively and interesting, and I like how well the two novellas work as a companion to the main series, both individually and as a set.