The Frights of Fiji instantly hooks you with the strangeness of Alyssa’s introduction to magic. But quickly devolves into mundanity. The synopsis builds up a genuine threat to Alyssa but magic is used to splash the girls with mud, and spray paint the babysitter’s hair whilst drawing dark circles around her eyes. It doesn’t feel dangerous. It doesn’t feel like there are stakes. The characters taking world altering revelations in stride doesn’t help. 

Moreover why devote the first thirty one pages to running through Alyssa’s babysitters and tutors? I understand the need for certain introductions but the point is belaboured. We don’t need to be led through three rooms of a tutor’s house. It’s hard to try and be invested when the plot is treated like an afterthought to set up. 

Duchamp’s arrival was such a relief. He brought the book to roaring life. And I was so glad to find the edge of sci-fi to the magic was wholeheartedly embraced to an extent that I don’t tend to see. The threat to Alyssa and her loved ones was also the first time that I connected to her as a character. She couldn’t just take it in stride and that humanised her. 

The Fijian islands, I believe, are made up. That lends the fantasy a more adventurous feel and gives the book freedom. There’s so much magic and magical technology here that it really does grab you. Their devices and spells are interesting and make for one of the strongest elements of the book. And it has fun with it! I liked that there files on how to become a dictator using sorcery. I was surprised by how many magical beings there are too and thought their inventiveness was interesting. 

The arrival of the other girls was great. I especially love how focused they became in regards to dealing with Duchamp. One girl even suggested that they inject water into him! They’re so blase about murdering him that it was hard not to get excited too. And I love that Alyssa immediately began thinking ahead to Duchamp’s possible ghost and how she could kill that too. 

At one point there were eight characters to juggle all in one place. And given the length of the book I’m not complaining that the characters were pretty one note. I do think a little more time could have been given to differentiating them. Especially with the one line that hinted a character didn’t have a good memory. Just one line. But it had such implications. Now that we know who they are it’s something the sequels can build upon. 

It does remain a mixed book however. Its ‘no exposure to developed civilizations’ comment about the islands is insulting at the very least and plays into stereotypes and racism. Given how divorced the settings are to the actual Fiji I don’t understand why it was brought in at all. The magic is interesting but there’s no tension. Almost every time a threat or obstacle arises there’s an immediate tool to hand. There’s little wonder in it either because its every function is explained to you as soon as its introduced. The villain’s motivations, backstory and years of scheming, for example, are all told to you by a character before you have the chance to feel like he’s a danger. And before you even meet him. 

The only moment of mystery that’s sustained is the very clear sequel hook. Even though that, too, is revealed before the end. Most of all is how little Alyssa matters. She’s a MacGuffin more than she’s her own character. Most of the book is spent waiting for other people to get things or talk to people. It isn’t until page sixty five that she finally demands inclusion. This book is one hundred and seven pages. A protagonist doesn’t need to be proactive but the story shouldn’t be happening off-page to this extent. 

I do like her relationship with Hailey. And, like I said, there are interesting character moments and a world with a lot to offer. I am looking forward to reading the sequel because I do have a sense of some of the characters now and the world and I want to see them fleshed out. I want to be back in the adventurousness of the islands which is where the book shines best. And I’m eager to see how Alyssa plans to kill Duchamp this time around. 

Thanks to iReadBookTours and Sunayna Prasad. I leave this review voluntarily.

 You Must Be This Tall to Propose! is an utter joy to read. It’s such a sweet, funny manga. Its short chapters lend it the intimacy of glimpses into the everyday lives of its characters rather than a fast pace. Its cast is charming and Mifuyu instantly endears the reader by introducing us to little Chitose and Tomo the day they make their agreement. They’re so cute and sweet.
Its wider cast are introduced simply, but clearly. Some tertiary characters remain one note but most already being expanded upon. This isn’t a criticism. I know exactly which character is which. Their personalities and dynamics with others. If anything, there was a bit more development than I’d expected, for instance, with Akito and Haruka.

I love the comedy. Miscommunication can be hilarious and I especially enjoyed it here. Chitose has a very defined view of manhood that he strives for that drives some of the comedy. It’s not taken seriously by the manga – but not at Chitose’s expense. It could easily be mean-spirited but it’s not at all. The miscommunication is also much subtler than I’d expected from the description. I thought it would oppose Tomo and Chitose but they’re very sweet, both generally and with one another. You really root for them through their mishaps.

There has been criticism that it doesn’t have an overarching plot. That’s both true and not. The manga is clearly invested in Chitose and Tomo’s relationship and their becoming a couple. It could do a more typical and obvious overarching plot well but I think that it’s made what it is very obvious and it excels at it. You Must Be This Tall to Propose! is a perfect lighthearted, feel-good read.

Thanks to NetGalley and Kodansha for this review copy. I leave this review voluntarily.

 The writing’s in third person but closes in on different characters’ perspectives at times – without always seeming in-character. ‘Token red head’ is an odd way to view your friend. Similarly the break up flashbacks all go from one to a hundred in seconds. None of the characters know how to communicate which is fine – except they all miscommunicate the exact same way. 

The premise promises character driven narratives. It’s not until chapter three that Sydney becomes distinct. Even so her date with Daniel is a summary. You’re not interested in writing it, why should I be in reading it? I got to Sydney’s gran dying hours after learning mine did and felt nothing. It’s disappointing, especially as a later crisis is affective and engaging.

Structuring the story by building up repeatedly to revelations then having the characters talk about it at a later date, isn’t a style I enjoy. It wildly undercuts tension. In other circumstances, however, it utilises this style effectively, segueing naturally. And when it doesn’t tip too far, I appreciate the directness. The chapter titles are also a touch I enjoyed.

‘Most mysterious friend’ is an odd way to introduce a character. But even from the beginning, when they were least distinguishable, you knew who was who. It constantly builds their characters. And speaking of character, I usually hate when anyone not on the side of the protagonists are bad. It’s shallow. I didn’t mind here. I like that they can be nippy sweeties, and judgemental and superior. Still, the sheer not-like-other-girls of it could be painful at times.

It’s sad a book so focused on friendship tended to be most interesting when they were with their partners though. Most of the conflicts lay in other relationships and so they were fleshed out with more stakes. But it’s a quick read and compelling.

Thanks to iReadBookTours and author Kelly Smith for this review copy. I leave this review voluntarily. 

The prose is straightforward but not undescriptive. I like the little details that give you a quick insight into each of the girls– Sophie’s ‘little huff'. And this goes for the narrative more broadly too. More subtle forms of realistic horror do tend to be less effective for me as a reader. It can take me some time to put the pieces together and by then it’s gone from subtle to over. Sometimes that’s intentional on the part of the author. Sometimes I’m oblivious. It was very effective here.

Rosalyn’s voice isn’t without character, and her feelings certainly bleed into the text. There is a matter-of-factness to the prose that I find lends itself well to the casual cruelty of the children. This is just what their lives are. This is just what they do. And that was utterly horrifying.

And then we find ourselves in the second part of the book. I still don’t know how to feel about it. I knew that the girls’ game would simmer over at some point and I sat there, breathless, as it did. It remained as gothic but there was a noticeable shift in the type of horror it portrayed. It felt like a change of genre. And by the end I felt like I had read two books, not one.

A pity. The first was brilliant. I thought the second would hone in on the idea of self-inflicted torment that I ached to read. It did. It both faded into the background and became more blatant, this time by having it outright stated more than once. The narration shifted too. It became more internal, more repetitive. ‘If Rosalyn remained, he thought it likely that the rest of the children did as well’ and ‘he highly doubted that only Rosalyn had remained’ are from the same paragraph.

There are interesting ideas in the second. I wish they had been executed well. However it opened a chasm that distanced the reader from the girls and undercut the mounting horror it had built to so effectively. On a formatting note, I use dark theme and the clover line breaks did not resemble clovers. A little more definition would have served the illustrations well.

Thanks to Book Sirens and Hadassah Shiradski for this review copy. I leave this review voluntarily.