This book should be devoured.

The Affair of the Mysterious Letter has sat, ominous, on our shelves for awhile. When our sapphic book club got started, I thought it was finally Mysterious Letter’s time to shine. And it did, an eldritch brilliance quite unrelated to Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

After an illustrious career as her aide and fellow sleuth, Dr. John Wyndham has decided to become one Mrs. Shaharazad Haas’s chronicler. And where to begin, but the beginning? Their first meeting, their first case, and the first time Haas abandoned him in a prison cell full of time magic and psychological torment.

If that summary sounds a little salty, it’s because I think the biggest flaw of Hall’s work is he made it a Sherlock Holmes pastiche. Yes, everyone brings what they like to a pastiche; and not everyone likes the same things. Not everyone delights in Holmes and Watson’s relationship the way I do. Hall and I must enjoy very different elements. The characters more go on an adventure than solve a mystery. I really liked how ThreeRings put it in her review (linked below). In canon and elsewhere, Holmes is a little feral upon first meeting Watson. Hall took Holmes’ antisocial tendency to a new extreme. Even to the last pages, Haas doesn’t seem to much care if Wyndham lives or dies. Over the course of the case, he’s jailed three times, psychologically unwound, and left to face a shark unprepared, on his own. In-universe Wyndham writes the Mysterious Letter much later in his life, and he assures us that Haas has the great heart to match the great mind. Those assurances strain under how much Haas really doesn’t give a shit.

At the end of the story, Wyndham and Lestrade begin dating, (a very cute rarepair!) and they later marry. It reminded me greatly of the end of The Sign of Four, filling my brain with sorrow. In the original novel, Watson marries sure, but partly because Holmes’ insistent drug use drives him away. Holmes implies he will attempt to replace Watson with the cocaine bottle, as Watson substitutes their relationship with a wife. Depressing stuff.

The setting is the real star of the story. Khelathra-Ven is Weird, with a capital “W.” Each section is a huge set piece to show off the most outré world-building imaginable. With the lack of true mystery or my preferred flavor of Holmes-Watson, I confess I became a little exasperated with Khelathra-Ven. Nobody can pop out for milk without Something Happening. I doubt it would be pleasant to live there and is much more fun to read about. Only here can a Dracula reference sit side-by-side with an Emperor’s New Groove allusion. Obviously, the Gothic castle section was my favorite, haha, but second place was the underwater realm. Carcosa was more dicey. I’m not Chinese, but opium smoking, yellow eyes, and “oh woe, Communism is the worst and a waste of our storied culture!” seems a little iffy. 

Other bright spots include Wyndham’s editorial comments and the sheer catastrophic level of queer drama. Throughout the book, Wyndham censors Haas’ potty mouth and the more visceral story beats. On the whole, I thought it fun; other book club members found it tiresome. What initially drew me to The Affair of the Mysterious Letter was the queerness. Wyndham is a trans man, which is a very fun interpretation and cool to see in a published work. Haas is a lesbian disaster in human form. She has ex’s everywhere, who now date each other instead of her. Some she introduced! While I was able to predict the blackmailer’s identity, I didn’t expect the sheer twisty turny queer chaos of a solution. If you like The Locked Tomb or This is How You Lose the Time War, you’ll love Haas’ approach to dating. 

If you love world-building, if you love fantasy settings, if you like queer high adventure: read The Affair of the Mysterious Letter. If you’re looking for Holmes pastiche, save it for another time.

ThreeRings Reviews: https://app.thestorygraph.com/reviews/1c6630a6-c154-4682-bd56-b3fcfa6d03ed 

A very quick review because I just read “Crave” by Xan West! [SCREAMS] “Crave” is a fantastic celebration of autistic nonsexual kink. West’s use of the second person to address the speaker’s partner blew my mind. Reading “Crave” feels like seeing sunlight for the first time and made me mourn West's death all over again. Their memory continues to be a blessing. 

Back when Twitter was, well, Twitter, I followed Ashley Herring Blake. When she announced that she’d be publishing an adult f/f romance book, I was excited, purchased a copy, and pitched it as a pick for our sapphic book club.

In Bright Falls, everyone knows that Delilah Green doesn’t care, especially Delilah herself. Well, she cares about her photography career in New York City, and she makes sure all her lovers have a great time in bed, but her step-sister Astrid must beg, borrow, and steal to entice Delilah to be her wedding photographer. A reluctant Delilah returns to Bright Falls and all the reminders of why she left. These reminders may be why it’s so easy to say yes when Claire, Astrid’s bestie, approaches her and asks if she’d like to break up the wedding.

Blake’s book is layered. While all the characters thought of themselves as badass feminists, their feminism feels distinctly second-wave, on a textual and meta-textual level. Women can do anything! Sisterhood is most important. Male characters are trash, except the dead ones, who are angels. Characters make multiple comments on how they should give up on partnering with men, and Blake’s other books with bi/pan women are all f/f pairings. A moment that really sticks in my mind is towards the end. Delilah takes down a group photo of white men, and Claire praises this choice, saying “ugh white dead men.” The new picture, however, is all white women. They’re queer white women, but their queerness is not visible in the photo. Their feminism needs to grow more. Women aren’t a separate, superior species. While an occasional “men are trash” joke can feel cathartic, realistically we all need to work together, in community, to make the world more equitable.

All that being said, Delilah Green Doesn’t Care is a very enjoyable book. I believed in Claire and Delilah’s burgeoning love, and how their pasts informed it. The circumstances that drove Delilah away from Claire, Astrid, and Bright Falls feel all too real. Everyone is a mess; everyone is working on it. The pacing is superb. I was hooked. Blake reverses lavender’s usual symbolism into smothering conformity, which tumbled my mind delightfully. Water came to symbolize a freedom to express truth and emotion. Parent Trap-esque hijinks provided some fun humor. Blake was already a good writer, but I think with time she’ll become a great one. We had an avid book club discussion over Delilah Green Doesn’t Care.

I’m unsure if I’ll purchase the rest of the series, but I’ll definitely keep my eye out at the library. I want to see Iris and Astrid’s stories and check in on Delilah and Claire. 

Alice Unbound: Beyond Wonderland was an impulse borrow from the library. Having read both the original and retellings, watched many adaptations, and played multiple Wonderland-inspired video games, you could say I’m a fan of Lewis Carroll’s work, haha. I unfortunately also have a major character flaw of little patience with short story collections. I tread carefully with this anthology, reading only the introduction and the entries that caught my interest.

Speaking of the front matter, it’s distinctly odd, in a not altogether pleasant way. Anderson frames madness as a quasi-magical metamorphosis. While this is a popular concept in literature, this idea has little to do with real world mental illness and jarred me. Sure, becoming disabled will transform and upend your life in joyous and not-so-joyous ways. Being neurodivergent can grant unique perspectives–being any identity different from an abled, wealthy WASP man will–but mostly it gets in the way. Being ill is humdrum, banal, and deadening in its mundanity. For a book published in 2018, I was expecting a more nuanced take. On the plus side, Anderson does introduce the anthology well. These stories are re-imaginings with new settings and remixed characters. They aren’t fanfiction of the original Alice in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass.

Of what I read, my favorite two pieces are the “Twin” poem by Danica Lorer and “Jaune” by Catherine Macleod. Lorer’s narrative poem was a compelling, intriguing take on the disappearing twin phenomenon. Macleod’s work really stuck with me. Alice and Henry, the main characters, pose an interesting conundrum. Can we retain the peace and wisdom gained during healing from deep hurt, if we forget the original trauma? Is viscerally experiencing a hurt ourselves necessary for growth? I don’t know, but it’s fascinating to contemplate.

All in all, Alice Unbound: Beyond Wonderland is a comfortable 3 stars. If Wonderland remixes and imaginings sound fun, pick it up