Sistersong exceeded my expectations, and is everything I could want in a book.

Sistersong follows the story of three siblings: Keyne, Riva, and Sinne. They are the children of King Cador, one of the last pagan kings of Briton. However, the Queen's endorsement of a certain Christian priest threatens the King's ties to his magic.

King Cador's children feel this shift distinctly. Their traditions are threatened, their powers are dwindling, and it's hard to say that their kingdom is better off by forsaking their gods. The priest's grip on Dumnonia sets each sibling on a different path to grapple with, and understand, their own magic.

Sistersong is told from the three perspectives of the siblings, and I think this is expertly done by Holland. For starters, each of the siblings has a distinct voice and narrative. In most multiple-POV novels I've read, this is one of the most difficult feats to pull off. And yet, Holland conveys Riva's bitterness, Sinne's electricity, and Keyne's journey of becoming in a masterful way.

Not only this, but the varying POVs help to put the reader just a few steps ahead of the characters. Some may call this "predictability," but I love the tension that this creates between the siblings. It's a narrative tool that's difficult to pull off, but I think Holland does it well. It makes the journey to the revelation that much more bittersweet, in the end, because each sibling unknowingly carries but a piece of the puzzle. That, and a chasm grows between them.

I also loved how Holland wrote in Keyne, who is a trans man. (Note that for much of the narrative, Keyne is not out to anyone, and therefore is misgendered frequently. There is also a lot of dysphoria. However, the journey is so beautiful and worth it.) Holland has found a way to include a trans character in a historical fantasy that is hopeful and triumphant. Keyne is hands-down my favorite character, and his journey of discovery is so well done. It's nice to see a book that ultimately sidesteps (most of) the trauma of being trans and does something so meaningful with a trans character.

Another major selling point of the novel is the allusions to Arthurian legend. I feel like much of it is up to interpretation, but I choose to believe that this is directly connected to the mythos rather than being nodded at. At the end of this review, I'll go into why I think this.

Ultimately, this book hit everything right for me. I loved the complicated legacy of the three siblings, and their respective journeys. This is a book about being forced to grow up in a matter of months, and the different outcomes that may result. (I've seen the criticism that the book is fairly light in the first half, and dark in the second half, but I think that's a simplification. For Keyne, for example, the narrative only gets better. I also think that the abruptness of war makes the book so much richer.) This book is about jealousy, fear, kinship, war, discovery.

Representation: Trans character, gender-fluid character, disabled (mute) character, disabled (burn victim) character.

Trigger/Content Warnings: gender dysphoria, misgendering, transphobia, violence, gore, dismemberment.

*Big Spoilers* about my King Arthur "conspiracy theory" below:

So I think the connection to Arthurian myth is purposely ambiguous, so that people can come to their own conclusions about whether this is merely coincidental, a cameo or nod to Arthurian legend, or meant to be a retelling of the Arthurian legend itself. I'm in the latter camp.

Anyway, what I believe is that Myrdhin IS Merlin (as it's very similar to the Welsh spelling, Myrddin), and would even suggest that Constantine is Arthur. For starters, Myrdhin is a gender-fluid wizard who is one with nature, much like the one and only Merlin. His other identity, Mori the witch, bears a resemblance to Morganna/Morgan le Fay. Their horse is named Nimue, which is the lady of the lake, who guides Constantine at certain points in the story. The silver bracelets Mori gifts to Constantine parallel excalibur, as they help Constantine forge his connection to the land and his people.

Furthermore, Constantine forges a bond with a woman named Gwen, and possibly marries her, though this remains ambiguous. There's also a cameo of a character named Owain, who you may also know as Yvain, one of Arthur's knights. Could it be a random Owain? Sure! But based on the other nods to Arthurian legend, I doubt it.

BASICALLY, the story is rife with cameos. They may simply be nods to lore that would have occurred around this time, or even a hint that Arthur is out there somewhere else, and this is just an interlude of the wizard Merlin/Myrdhin that we get to see. However, there's an important theme that Myrdhin shares with Constantine, and that is that there is power in the names you give yourself. That, and that a person may have many names. Constantine ends the story by sharing that there are many stories told of him, and he's often left out of his sisters' narrative. This begs the question, could he be a part of a different narrative? Perhaps one of an unconventional King who must prove himself worthy to his people through his connection to the land? A Romano-British King of unquestionable charisma and leadership potential, who has an unshakeable friendship with a powerful wizard? Who drove back the Saxons, if only for a time? A King with ties to Tintagel (which is referenced in the book by its Corninsh name, Dintagel)?

The book ends with Myrdhin and the spectral Constantine finding Sinne again sometime in the future (once and future king, anybody???), when magic has left the land. They are described as the oldest of friends. And who would be more important to Myrdhin than Arthur himself? And to answer, "Well why wouldn't Myrdhin refer to him as Arthur, then?" Well, just as Mori both is and is not Myrdhin, Constantine and Arthur may be separate identities of the same person, but Constantine represents his truest self: the name he first chose for himself.

So that's my long an convoluted reasoning for why this is also an origin story for a trans King Arthur.

Adored this book. Review to come.

~I spent 20 minutes trying to find a depiction the traditional way to eat weißwurst and I can see why Vanja was disturbed lmao~

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I'll admit, I'm not very familiar with the Goose Girl story in general. As in, I haven't read too many retellings, though I get the gist of the story.

That being said, I found this to be a fantastically layered retelling. The book is broken into numerous acts, disrupting the typical 3-act structure that is commonplace in books. Within each act, we're given a snippet of our main character's (Vanya's) story that gives us greater context into her thoughts and actions. I found this to be a really compelling way to tell the story, and let the plot unfold.

I thought the plot was really interesting and increasingly complex. Just when you thought you had figured things out, there was another curveball. And as the book progresses, some of the underlying threads get more and more ominous, adding to the dark atmosphere of the story.

I loved the characters dearly, including the vibrant cast of side characters. Even if they made some questionable decisions, I'll give them a pass because, you know, trauma.

I cannot wait for the next book!

A Botanist’s Guide to Parties and Poisons is a historical mystery that is plenty entertaining. It’s 1923, and Saffron Everleigh is a botany assistant at the University College of London. At a dinner party to celebrate the college’s upcoming expedition to Brazil, a dinner guest falls into a coma under mysterious circumstances. When Saffron’s department advisor is under suspicion, she must race against the clock to clear his name before the expedition begins and the poisoner gets away scot-free.

This book was enjoyable, though not perfect. There are things Khavari does very well in this story, and things that are a bit lackluster. For one, Khavari does an excellent job of making the reader care about the characters. Saffron, Alexander, and Elizabeth all felt very real to me (if at times they weren’t the brightest). The main characters all felt like their own people, with their own motivations and quirks. I could see why they cared for each other, and that’s important to me as a reader. That said, some of the main characters did some pretty impulsive and even pretty stupid things. One of the most idiotic things Saffron does seems like a complete throwaway decision until it later comes into play, which makes it feel a bit predictable. Though the author did a fine job setting up this piece of plot so at least it made sense in the grand scheme of things.

Furthermore, some of the side characters felt a bit “mustache-twirly,” though all in good fun. In my opinion, this is more of a light-hearted mystery than Sherlock Holmes level sleuthing. Therefore, the stakes are moderate and everything Saffron unravels is believable. It’s less “unmatched genius” and more like stubborn-expert-in-the-discipline-who-sees-things-the-cops-don’t-know-that-they-don’t-know. What I’m getting at is that Saffron is clearly an expert in her field, but she wouldn’t do much good in an investigation that didn’t involve botany or her workplace. (Though she does certainly Nancy Drew her way into situations, so maybe she could.)

The characters also do a few very dumb things, and that could be a bit annoying.

Another thing Khavari does well is anchoring the reader in time. I’ve read books that are SUPPOSED to be set in the 1920s (*cough* These Violent Delights) that are indistinguishable from any other time or place. While reading this book, I felt as though we were firmly in the 20s.

Overall, this was a perfectly good time for me, but nothing revolutionary. If you like fairly uncomplicated/light historical mysteries with just a touch of romance, you’d probably have a good time.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.