Robin McKinley has such a fine way of transforming ages old stories and making them more vibrant and engaging for a modern audience. Given how passive Sleeping Beauty is in her own fairy tale at times, McKinley does a phenomenal job of making Rosie a very active agent in her own story in this retelling. Her stubborn, determined, and no nonsense attitude had an odd way of making her endlessly endearing and her rise to action in the climax, as well as her sacrifices, solidified her as a strong, layered character.

The world is so mischievously magical, to the point where fish are a myth and, if you let your kettles unattended, the magic dust settling over them may lead to a surprise of snakes in the pot. McKinley's descriptive style only adds to the mysterious wonder of this land, not making it too difficult to feel yourself instantly transported within its pages.

Since I am a big fan of female friendships that are polar opposites, like the rough and tumble Rosie and the beautiful, princess-like Peony, it's always a shame when those relationships fall second place behind the romantic interests that have all the appeal of drying plaster.  Also, how old exactly is Narl? He's already a smith by the time Rosie is a baby and she develops feelings for him by the time she's 16 having known him her whole life. I have no idea why large age gap romances with emotionally distant men are such a trend in fantasy but I really I think we've had enough of them. 

Other than that, this was a stand out read for me, which is a welcome surprise since I found her other work, like Beauty and The Outlaws of Sherwood to be a bit middling. 

Read this book as it is my library's book of the summer for this year. It's a simple, sweet story that deals with adapting to new situations shown through two house mice suddenly finding themselves living in the wild. Since the story stuck mostly to lighthearted adventure, I was surprised by its somewhat bittersweet ending. It was a little more mature that what I usually expect out of stories like this, saying that sometimes people drift away from who they love to get where they need to be, and that's all right. The memory of them is what keeps that love alive and I thought that was a sweet sentiment to end on.

A charming, funny graphic novel that champions the thought of books over brawn, shown through a young squire saving the day by using his intelligence and reason to get to the bottom of a cursed town. The art of the comic is wonderfully fall-like, the author sticking to a palette of muted oranges, yellows, blacks, and greys that also give it a distinct medieval vibe. Definitely a worthwhile quick read if you like a bit of mystery and humor with your quest narratives.

Also there's a cool looking dragon in it, which should be enough for anyone to read anything really.

An interesting snapshot in history of the punk movement during the time of the Berlin Wall. The author makes the bold claim that the punk presence was a cause for the fall of the wall when he doesn't really say anything to back that information up. The book mainly talks about specific people within the punk community and the challenge of trying to live a subversive lifestyle when going against the status quo could get you arrested. The journeys of some of the people were very engaging, though some did seem more fleshed out than others and many didn't get much of a resolution. I would have loved to have read some retrospectives from some of the people in the community, as it seemed that the author was in contact with them, just to get a wider scope of their stories. 

Angela Carter is somehow on another plane when it comes to storytelling. She weaves her words so elegantly, and yet there is some kind of beautiful danger to them. With all of her talks of wolves and beasts, her stories also have the edge of a predator to them, alluring and graceful, yet will also devour you whole if you're not too careful. This was my first time reading any of Carter's work, knowing that many of my favorite authors drew inspiration from her and, upon finishing the book, it's so clear how her influence survives in the horror written today. I know Neil Gaiman has listed her as one of his influences, which makes sense given the way both tend to incorporate some sort of vagueness into their works. 

This collection of stories has so much depth within it that you almost need to take notes to get the full experience. That's not a bad thing for me personally, as I'm one to dissect stories that interest me, and Carter makes her writing rich with allegories and symbolism hidden within retellings of fairy tales we all know so well. Even as I'm writing a review, I'm still trying to figure out what some of them mean. It's not a collection meant for a bit of light reading, as Carter goes to great lengths to rework the familiar into something disturbing, yet truthful. 

"The Snow Child" in particular was a short, yet provocative story, showing that Carter is more than willing to include a taboo or two to get a message across. Here, we see a rich man of status riding with his wife, wishing for a beautiful girl. This story, through its dreamlike atmosphere and imagery, deals with the discarding nature of the upper class, of how a man of rank can seek mistresses, young girls, when it pleases him, only to cast them aside when they have outlived their use and before they cast too much attention away from their wives. 

Several of Carter's stories take on a feminist slant, dealing with themes of agency, maturity, sexual exploration, and the damaging effect of the patriarchy. The latter is an interesting one, especially as it's framed in "The Erl-King." We see a woman fall in love with a man of the woods, only to feel herself ensnared and trapped by him. She feels excited yet also terrified by his presence, which can be both intimidating and sensual. He keeps a flock of birds in cages within his hut, and the woman fears that she will become much the same. Yet, though the man treats his birds well and cares for them, they are still trapped within gilded cages. The story deals mainly in gender roles, how both men and women suffer from the patriarchy and what is typically expected of each of them. 

I could go on and on about what each story means, how "The Courtship of Mr. Lyon" gives the Beauty of this Beauty and the Beast retelling a great deal of agency, predating the Disney version by a good decade, or how "Wolf-Alice" reflects the process of self-actualization and the effect of isolation in that process. I'm sure it's been the work of several dissertations in the past. But for now, I'm comfortable saying that if you're in the mood for something darker, a little more subversive, this is a collection you  don't want to miss.

Trickster tales are my bread and butter: Coyote, Hermes, Loki, Crow, Anansi, each one so varied in their mischief but share a great chaotic force. This archetype has always fascinated me, particularly in how involved they are in humanity, whether that means taking an active role in a creation myth or imparting some wisdom that helps humankind develop in a world that is always in flux. This anthology sports many of these figures, as well as some original ones, and mostly gets its job done of portraying various tricksy individuals.

Like any anthology, it had its hits and its misses. My favorite was "The Fiddler of Bayou Teche" by Delia Sherman. The atmosphere of this particular story really stood out amongst the rest, as well as the voice of the narrator, who has a Cajun vernacular that sucks you even more into the setting. The inclusion of the loup garou also is a massive plus for me. Always a sucker for werewolves am I.

Other stories I enjoyed were "One Odd Shoe," "The Listeners," "Crow Roads," "A Reversal of Fortune," and "Black Rock Blues." Probably a bit of a sign that, out of 26 stories, I only resonated with a small fraction of them, but that's just how it goes. I was definitely thinking by the end that the anthology felt a bit too weighty, or perhaps I was trying to read too much in one go. A lot of the more middling stories were unfortunately stuck in the second half, so by the end it felt a little bit more of a chore to get through.

An undeniably sweet, charming, hilarious love story that really puts you in the mood for a toasty grilled cheese. Seriously, I must have had three separate cravings while reading this comic.

Each character has such a lovable personality, from Camembert's at times clueless, yet endearing nature, to Brie's sweetness and passion for her causes. They work well as a duo, their personalities a true compliment to each other. 

The artwork is absolutely stunning, especially when to comes to the outfits. It gave me flashbacks to The Prince and the Dressmaker in how articulate and gorgeous they could be. Brie's commitment to pink really makes each one of her wardrobes leap off the page, and, again, brings a great balance when seen with Cam's deeper palettes. 

I somewhat like the anachronistic aspect of the story, that you have traditional depictions of the monarchy with lavish balls and opulence that you would expect out of a fairy tale, and then someone would literally be playing with a Nintendo Switch in the next scene. It plays with the theme of steering away from tradition, depicting more contemporary, progressive-minded characters in a world that still holds onto the aesthetics of the past. 

A perfectly serviceable middle grade book that gives a well meaning allegory for depression and the process in which one loses themselves to their negative thoughts and emotions. For me, it didn't read as anything groundbreaking, but it may make quite a difference to a young reader trying to navigate those feelings. The ending seemed a tad abrupt, and there were a few plot elements that didn't really get much resolution as a result. 

Has a wonderfully soft, pastel color pallet that gives it a sort of astral look. The mixing of all the purples and pinks give it a welcoming atmosphere and brings out the magic of the story. It was great to learn about more about Ramadan, as it was a holiday I was unfamiliar with and I'm always so excited to learn more about holidays from cultures different from mine.

While the story had a good foundation, I wish we got a bit more development on certain things: Nayra's relationship with her family, the djinn's world, Rami's home life, and some more resolution with the bullies. 

There is something that is so subtlety charming about this book. It often comes off as a folk horror story, in which a town must sacrifice one of their own to appease the malevolent force that lives in the woods and keeps their town from experiencing famine, disease, and overall hardship. There's a good dose of body horror as well, in which flowers and thorns grow out of skin, which is enough to give you a bit of a tingle down your spine. The beginning is somewhat of a slow start, as we see the town worry about how the ritual has come too soon this year and the concerns of some of the potential sacrifices, but when it finally gets going it keeps that energy for the rest of the story.

What I really appreciate is the strength of the love between the main trio. I always applaud an author that takes relationships that in any other YA novel would have been a contentious love triangle and instead creates a more polyamorous union between them. It gives a good bit of representation, subverts a trope that's been done to death, and honestly feels so refreshing to see characters that all truly like each other.

While I found this book entertaining and worth reading, I don't know if I'm going to remember it a year from now.