An impressive accounting of a young Dutchman, Jacob, signed under somewhat duress to the Dutch East Indian Trading Company (extinct for quite some time now). He finds himself in Dejima, which was an artificial island exclusively for trading when Japan was closed off to the world. Only high class prostitutes from Nagasaki, merchants, and interpreters were allowed on the premises. And so, through young Jacob’s eyes, we see a pretty unique historical moment.

Now, the accounting of the events are well researched but from what perspective are they recorded? Something to keep in mind. And Mitchell, I think, wants you to have that at the forefront of your mind as well. So much of the book is dedicated to the demonstration of culture and communication. Translation plays a huge role in the book. Which is why so much of it is in dialect. Something I am not found of at all. But, thematically, I see why it is present and it felt well executed to me, aside from the recreation of speech impediments, which do nothing but interrupt the flow of the otherwise excellent prose.

The book is in 5 parts. Part 1 is solely the European viewpoint through Jacob himself, which, while he quite open minded compared to the prejudices and rampant racism, do clue the reader into the fetishization and western mindset. It’s uncomfortable and eye-roll worthy sometimes, and it’s meant to be.

The stakes, however, are pretty low. So while everything is absolutely stunningly rendered. Customs and mannerisms and colloquialism and on, all seem painstakingly researched and conveyed deftly. The book still did lag a bit for me in this part. It mostly establishes all the characters and exposes the western mindset and tests Jacob’s character.

The second part then switches to two characters native to the area who are introduced and are somewhat predominate in part 1. We see Jacob’s influence in their lives, one in particular, but it is mostly focused on them. It renders the culture far better than Jacob’s perspective, of course, and also introduces meaningful stakes that really got the ball rolling for me.

Parts 3 and 4 wrap up those segments, going back to the characters, and part 5 is the epilogue.

It’s linear and very specific with dates, telegraphing the broad strokes of events to be actually true. I’m sure much else is embellished and fictionalized. But it is a very interesting cultural moment that I hadn’t known about. It’s also quite granular. The prose are balanced between evocative and precise. The characters are three dimensional and all feel like they meaningfully altered the plot, which, when looked back upon, I find to be quite excellent.

This subverts expectations very well. Yet it also feels inevitable and surprising, in the way all my favourite stories do. Jacob is not a saviour. The Japanese do not behave in caricature like ways, especially the main characters, and when they do, it is generally from a western perspective, which casts such assertions into doubt. Plot wise, though, I thought nothing was perfunctory and it was quite satisfying. If not for the slow start, it’d have been another 5 star read for me.

This is such a fun, cozy romp. I really like this trend of good natured and open-minded “old” people. Online, you mostly encounter, at least in my experience, the opposite of these characters. Which is where the Okay Boomer thing has come from. But it’s important to remember that there are people of an advanced age who have maintained a social Justice ideology and are whip smart.

I’m of an age that completely missed Golden Girls and Murder She Wrote, and things like that. I don’t really have a touchstone or an inspirational figure for those that aren’t my own age growing up. Even my own grandparents are quite far away and I see them very infrequently. So, it was quite nice to sink into a genuinely heartwarming characterization of truly good people thrust into an ostensibly dark premise, which ends up being pretty humane. There’s a kind of darkness; death and murder is what it is. And not necessarily necessary. But it’s also a sort of fact of life in a way, for people of this age in the book. And that allows them to approach murder in a different way too. It’s still serious…but it isn’t an existential dread that crime novels sometimes cultivate or stoke in a person.

Here we have four people, literally in a club, with a healthy respect for one another but do distinguish between this activity and friendship. It’s just something they do. Each bringing something quite different to the table via their lived experiences. Each of their lenses is wonderfully vivid and realized and disparate.

It’s almost strange at first, as the stakes feel quite low in these circumstances, yet it’s quite a page turner because the voice of each and the rapidity of the chapter breaks bring a new point of view. It’s a thriller staple to sort of artificially bolster the pacing by such a method. But it works here quite well because it’s just so pleasant to be in these peoples’ heads. They’re lovely and kind, and relatable in often off-kilter ways.

There’s an almost meandering plot and they get there. Not to say that they stumble upon the solution at all. They work at it across a long time, actually; dogged in their pursuit of truth and Justice. Holding themselves to their own sense of right and wrong and the application of the law. The resolution of the mystery makes sense and is quite satisfying and, again, manages a great amount of humanity.

It’s hard to characterize it as anything other than “cozy” despite it being somewhat diminutive to the complexity of the plot and character work. It’s a sub genre that women gravitate towards more than men, but that more men should pick up, as it has much more healthy masculinity to look up to as well as a dollop of foul murder. I look forward to the next one, coming end of this coming month, quite a bit.

While the narration was above average, overall, the narrator tries hard to distinguish the characters with voice, which was quite helpful. But I found myself unable to connect with any of the characters, especially the main character. The prose was not to my taste either. Lots of exposition feels like it’s trying to explain away lots of main character's actions, who doesn’t feel like a strong protagonist.

It’s not a bad read. I think fans of this kind of historical fantasy that is growing in popularity might find more here to connect with than me, provided they can stick it through the first half where the main character is a bit of a jerk.

The closest thing I’ve come to this is Nan Shepherd, who pioneered travel fiction/ mountain fiction. Both have autofiction qualities and are non fiction. But they also describe the world in ways that, while not necessarily fictional, also feel apart from what I’d normally summon in my head if someone said it was nonfiction or autofiction or travel(ogue).

More than just being a really engaging writer, the author here also has an uncanny knack when choosing what to talk about. It’s rare that absolutely everything on the page is interesting. Especially when it’s the fictional equivalent of, say, watching Planet Earth, or something.

Perhaps if I had read more travel and it’s peripheral lit components I’d be able to talk about this much better. All I can say is that it is by far the most gripping movement of a character has been. It’s educational on specific subjects, including climate change and waste and geological areas. There’s the odd picture in the book that helps with visualization.

It’s just riveting how every facet of the world, and how movement especially through the space is captured. I’ll certainly read more from this author. I alternated between book and audio and both were great. No pictures, of course, but the narration was just as good. Highly recommend. Wish I had more experience with this kind of stuff to describe it better.

While this seemed fairly tropey, it was, as with the first, a fun fantasy commercial fiction read. To its detriment, because of when it was published and it’s commercial demands, this feels somewhat like the embodiment of 90s fantasy tropes rolled into one.

Chosen guy all women are attracted to. Massive battle between good and evil. Powerful magical artifacts with a capital c cost. Fantasy species exactly as you’d imagine them to be. The Quest.

It’s an interesting artifact as far as embodying that fantasy moment, I think. And it is still fun. It’s valid to fall into the comfort of the familiar with a bit of a remix. I thought it was fine all over, if a bit eye roll worthy at points, such as the Insta love for Will moments, or the sometimes arbitrary feeling deviations to a specific goal. There is better out there. But it’s certainly got a quality about it that makes it endearing overall.

We follow Jason Taylor aka Eliot Bolivar. A schism of boyhood identity in every respect, our 13-year-old protagonist chronicles about a year in a small town called Black Swan Green.

He has one sort of friend, a kid lower on the pecking order of smol patriarchy, and a not insignificant speech impediment that often ostracizes him. His parents are having problems, his big sister, with whom he has a tumultuous relationship that mostly leans to allyship, and he’s also nested a secret in his bone clock of a body: He’s actually also a published poet.

Sure, it’s just local and a talent that needs to be honed, but it’s also the perfect manifestation of Taylor’s coming-of-age tale.

Jason has a few alter egos: said poet, a name for the toxic and dark thoughts we all have from time to time, Maggot, and we also have the hangman, who represents a kind of psychological embodiment of Jayson’s stutter. When he tries to navigate a sentence and it becomes ‘mashed down’, a word perceived as not allowed by this figure, it is as though the hangman takes over Jayson’s body.

All communication, then, because a fight for agency. Then, because, kids are such shits, the bullying follows when these incidents are public.

There are multiple arcs and themes inbuilt here. Most of them are pretty mundane but handled quite well. Jayson piques from these seemingly small tribulations, which, I’m sure, at the time as we can all remember, feel as though they are the largest obstacles of all life—but which he does discern the inner workings of the world, and lays them out brilliantly. Here we see the flourishes of Eliot Bolivar, I think. The person Jayson may grow into, if nurtured.

But Jayson’s problems often come from the aforementioned identities he’s combating and exploring. Again, some problems seem trivial. But we know in the Mitchell verse such small things that shape the morality and character of an individual are almost quantifiable. What is right and not right reoccur over and over but the side of good absolutely needs all those it can muster.

What’s more is we meet Hugo Lamb from Mitchell’s later book The Bone Clocks. Even that short chapter with Lamb is the foreshadowing for his beginnings. All of the essential ingredients of his problems in the future and his ethics are right there, in their own way, warring with Jayson. Lamb representing amoralism and the cult of cool, Jayson, unbeknownst to anyone, the “loser” colliding with moments that could easily shape him and send him Lambs way.

For those that read Cloud Atlas there is also a lovely coda to Frobisher’s storyline. The composer with which he boards has a daughter, if you recall, and she appears herein as well. I relished that very much, as Frobisher is my favourite character from the book.

So, yes, it’s a satisfying, if quite different read. It’s not sprawling or meta or from multiple perspectives. But, as usual, the perspective is, in my opinion, extremely well crafted. A distinct and excellent voice, filled with some opaque Britishisms. The voice of a young boy, a child, sometimes, a poet and one day a man, is all there. It doesn’t overstay it’s welcome and it does exactly what it sets out to do in a quiet and understated, effective way.

I liked this more and more the further I got into it.

As so many Mitchell books seem to do, this book chronicles the lives of some mysterious young twins. We get this story via Slade House. We get it via ghost stories experienced by other people who venture into its nooks and crannies, probing for different things each time jump. From 1979 to 2015 the supernatural reigns over this curiosity across from the Fox and the Hound pub.

It unfolds quite satisfyingly too. Just when I was done with the patterning, it changed it up, and to great effect, I felt. It’s a short book that knows the half life of its stylistic cycle well.

This also adds on some to the meta story in interesting ways, but that’s spoiler territory for both this book and two others. I’ve been making YouTube videos on this little journey I’m taking, reading all of the Mitchell books to get the full meta, or Uber novel, as some call it, and making note of the connections. It’s a fun time and one that’s getting more interesting as more of the meta gets built upon.

And as usual, I think Mitchell is pretty adept at slipping into various voices. From historical to contemporary, we get unique cadence and diction and personality. And when it’s over, it does still feel like a ghost story but it also certainly, more than any others, probably requires you to know the meta components to grasp everything, as a Horologist makes an appearance. But I also think it could be an interesting launching pad to jump into another book with said meta stuff, if it piques your interest.

For me, going from Thousand Autumns to Bone Clocks to this was a very nice arc, though. It contextualizes everything, doesn’t spoil anything, and nicely sorts the arc. I read Cloud Atlas first and remember it quite well but it tied into the end of the Bone Clocks only tangentially, from what I remember.

Regardless, it’s short, fun, spooky, and, as noted, adds to the meta novel in interesting ways. It steadily rose from a 3 to a 4 star rating.

For the first half of this I was really invested and interested. Harkness is great at showing the dynamics playing out in a particular scene with a lot of nuance, and she clearly has a lot of passion of historical narratives.

This go around Phoebe is being turned into a vampire, and her narrative follows her transition and it’s trials and tribulations. It’s pretty interesting, when at its best!

We also gets the backstory of her partner, Marcus, and his own struggle when turned.

Form time to time it pops into Matthew and Diana’s life, mostly focusing on the issues with their children, each of whom is displaying supernatural affinities already, at such an early age.

I think this mostly worked for me. But as I said, around halfway in and change it started dragging quite a bit. It sometimes feels like a short story, or a couple short stories, that have been puffed up and put together. But I really enjoyed the early years of Marcus and the more granular worldbuilding of vampirism with Phoebe.

What never quite hit home for me was the kids’ storyline, which feels like a massive power fantasy, even more so than the third book, and that book did not land the earning of powers angle at all for me. The stakes didn’t feel real, there was magic Deus ex machina happening. And now their kids are also incredible and amazing and powerful and life is hard, apparently. There’s no real stakes at play here either, yet again. We know what becomes of Marcus. The kids don’t feel like they’re actually in danger. Phoebe changing and maybe not being into Marcus anymore, initially twinged an emotion, but it became clear very quickly that this issue wasn’t at stake either.

It didn’t really feel like there was a plot happening, basically. And I usually don’t require one. I get buy plenty of books ascribed such a label. But this does feel like spinning wheels because, by contrast with the first two books especially, the components that made those so enticing, are the intrigue and mystery and danger. It feels strange. In the end, it delivers on its premise, Harkness, I’ve found, is a joy to read, and it does add world building though. So I think it’s a fair 3 stars, if barely.

p.s, the whole small box sequence where it was banned and controversial to get it hits home so much with what’s happening now with COVID.

I actually take some pride in being able to pick up pretty much whatever and try and accept it on its own terms. While this didn’t exceed my expectations (4 stars), it was more-or-less exactly what I had expected. There’s a few things I particularly liked and a couple I didn’t like at all, but I think it is what it says it is on the tin. And for a hot take: I think it’s about as well crafted and enjoyable as many of Sanderson’s novels.

As for things I did not particularly like: The idea that everything hinges on a riddle that is so easily solved but only actually, finally, is by the protagonist—who may be illiterate, isn’t an idiot—was really unsatisfying and a bit annoying, frankly. Like a lot of fantasy romance, the whole “oh no they could have solved everything if they could have just communicated effectively” trope wears really thin for me. But my largest gripe is just how heteronormative the fae are. Yeah, some are good and some are bad, just like humans. But why… is their society constructed like humanity…? It’s so… straight, to be honest. It just feel really derivative and like the fae out of every fantasy series ever, pretty much.

However, these things kind of come along with what a massively successful, commercial fiction fantasy romance book is. Which is pretty explicit on the dust jacket. They’re eye-roll worthy but to a certain degree, I’m sure fans of this genre to some degree want some of these tropes. And… that’s why it’s so widely read and liked!

I also enjoyed that Feyre was mostly capable. It was undermined with the trials, but otherwise had some. Autonomy and agency and there wasn’t any problematic elements. The stakes with the trials actually felt pretty good. The last little battle/fight was legitimately cool and immensely satisfying. The manor of her being “saved” (trying not to spoil anything) felt more realistic than lots of other in the genre.

It doesn’t carve out a unique spot or pioneer anything in fantasy settings, but it’s inoffensive and fun and mostly well executed. Girl gets to catch some pipe from a shapeshifting dude. I can see the widespread appeal.