frasersimons's review against another edition
adventurous
emotional
funny
hopeful
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
More enjoyable than the first one! This time we follow the then apprentice, now full Chant, as he chronicles a new story (his own), on paper, the text we are actually reading. Only there is also a reader within the fiction who is annotating this text as part of a kind of mystery (and injects a fair bit of humour, too).
The meta addition is really fun, both because I wanted to know who was making these footnotes and crossing out the text and what not, but also because their personality really came through as a secondary character.
The actual plot is semi interesting. It’s nice to have queer rep, especially neat when he would Recontextualizing stories of straight characters with a queer lens. But there wasn’t as many stories as the first because the main tension is that he just is not about that chant life right now. The process of storytelling is something he’s disenchanted with, and he’s in a sort of mid life crisis situation. The stakes are pretty low, especially compared to the first. It’s a much more quiet story, and that makes the fairly large page count seem a bit overindulgent. But I did like the conclusion and the structure and format with the meta component and conversation were absolutely engaging. Never was it in danger of being put down by me.
The meta addition is really fun, both because I wanted to know who was making these footnotes and crossing out the text and what not, but also because their personality really came through as a secondary character.
The actual plot is semi interesting. It’s nice to have queer rep, especially neat when he would Recontextualizing stories of straight characters with a queer lens. But there wasn’t as many stories as the first because the main tension is that he just is not about that chant life right now. The process of storytelling is something he’s disenchanted with, and he’s in a sort of mid life crisis situation. The stakes are pretty low, especially compared to the first. It’s a much more quiet story, and that makes the fairly large page count seem a bit overindulgent. But I did like the conclusion and the structure and format with the meta component and conversation were absolutely engaging. Never was it in danger of being put down by me.
charlierk's review against another edition
5.0
By far one of the most satisfying and heart wrenching stories I’ve read in a while. The Chant-called-Ylfing will forever remain in my heart :,)
Now to throw this duology at everyone I know
Now to throw this duology at everyone I know
naemi's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
steevejr's review against another edition
1.0
0/5
Did we all read the same book? Seeing all these reviews praising the storytelling and characters makes me feel as though I'm in the Berenstein universe where everyone else read something I did not.
This book made me... sigh in exasperation, and close the page every few chapters to take a breather. The story was bland, the stakes were non-existent, the characters whiny and immature, and the plot seemed to be written chapter-by-chapter without any revisions. I kind of get the vibe that the people who loved this book loved the idea of it more than the actual writing: they loved the concept of fanfic tropes paired with the promise of LGBT representation more than the actual book they read.
Because, objectively speaking, this book was badly written.
First—since I don't want to discourage Rowland from continuing to practice their craft—the fables are fantastic. Please, write us a whole book that consists of short fables, myths, and stories set in this universe. It's what you excel at, and I want more of that. They're compelling, moving, and make me want to read more, but, unfortunately, there is no more.
Let me start with the obvious downfalls in the writing here. It's bad. It's objectively bad. It reads like a draft that needed 3 more revisions to be polished. The footnote concept is a fun one, but every single footnote reads like an author's note in a fanfic, like the writer themselves is yelling at the characters ("You little shit. Fuck you. Oh, and also fuck you! lol."). Why do they (the annotator) make a big show of crossing out a certain word, only to drop it and stop doing it the next few chapters? Why do they toss out big sections, and then leave in other sections that we, the reader, can see them objecting to?
It feels like neither the writer nor editor bothered to sit down and read it, all of it, cover to cover. When read together, there are so many inconsistencies that make it feel careless, and choppy. The dialogue is stilted and forced, and I can tell there were one or two sentences that Rowland was really, really attached to—but they didn't work. They tried, but the sentence didn't work, so instead of letting go of that perfect sentence or finding a different way of involving it into the story, Rowland just couldn't let go, and instead made the dialogue awkwardly fall around that one perfect sentence. There are other ways to show things in a story beyond character A telling character B something out loud.
None of the dialogue reads like real humans speaking. Let me give you an example, spoilers omitted: imagine you're a Burger King frycook. Your district manager comes up, and you introduce yourself. "I used to go by Joey," you say, "but I'd prefer to be called Drew now." Your district manager—your boss's boss—looks wistfully off into the distance. "Ah, yes," he drawls out. "I know a thing or two about changing names. I changed mine once. Back when I lived in New York, where they only have men and women—which, I think, is very closeminded perspective of gender. My old friends from NYC may still call me a woman, because they haven't seen me in a while... But that's neither here nor there. Congrats on the name change." And then you stand there, laughing awkwardly, because you're lost for words at the uncomfortable interaction you just had with your superior.
All the dialogue reads like this. It's a constant flow of characters oversharing, and having conversations that feel so stilted, and forced, and obviously put in the book just so Rowland can tell us something, without having to actually show us. Mistress Chant is, supposedly, 46, and yet all her narration is written like a bad-mouthed 20 year old who just realized she can say the f-word without consequence. She reads exactly like Chant from book 1, even though she's supposedly wise, rational, and well-spoken, and an entirely different character.
And my biggest gripe with this story: it feels like it was written chapter-by-chapter. Themes get introduced randomly halfway through. Things happen, and then just fade off. The whole bit with the nudging, the whole side-plot with Shuggwa... why did they both get mentioned, and then fizzle out without adding much at the story? 1/2 of the way through I kept thinking "so what's the plot? What's the conflict?" 4/5 of the way through I was thinking the same thing, but with a bit more urgency because I only had 60 pages left. It doesn't feel like there are any stakes. It doesn't feel like there's any conflict. For the love of god, let someone get mad and punch a face! The entire story feels like the equivalent of watching two toddlers lazily fight over a candy wrapper in the park, but the mom next to you is narrating it as though they world is about to split in two and swallow them up and you're like "I'm sorry, can you stop cursing please?"
I want to read what this story could be, 3 revisions from now. I want to read what it could be if Rowland rewrote it from scratch, letting go of all the little sentences that were perfect, but didn't work. I want to read the type of story where the one (1) trans character isn't "revealed" as trans by outwardly telling the reader 4/5 of the way through. I want a story that has weight, that has a moral dilemma, that has consequences weighing down on Ylfing. And, I want to read the type of story where there's less dikes, and more dykes! Give me more lesbians!
(This little bit is just because I need to complain to SOMEONE. Why add in 6 social genders, and then end with a “I don't really understand the other 3, so I simply will ignore them”? Why put them in at all, why bring attention to the fact that the story is written in a non-native language that makes the 6 social genders clunky and hard to narrate, and then, most importantly why have another character draw attention to this fact in the footnotes to only continue emphasizing how unnecessary all of this is in the first place? It's so messy, convoluted, and entirely unnecessary.)
It’s a bad book. Don’t read this book. It’s not even fun to hate-read, unless you have a very strong stomach for bad writing. In which case, support your local library and go nuts.
Did we all read the same book? Seeing all these reviews praising the storytelling and characters makes me feel as though I'm in the Berenstein universe where everyone else read something I did not.
This book made me... sigh in exasperation, and close the page every few chapters to take a breather. The story was bland, the stakes were non-existent, the characters whiny and immature, and the plot seemed to be written chapter-by-chapter without any revisions. I kind of get the vibe that the people who loved this book loved the idea of it more than the actual writing: they loved the concept of fanfic tropes paired with the promise of LGBT representation more than the actual book they read.
Because, objectively speaking, this book was badly written.
First—since I don't want to discourage Rowland from continuing to practice their craft—the fables are fantastic. Please, write us a whole book that consists of short fables, myths, and stories set in this universe. It's what you excel at, and I want more of that. They're compelling, moving, and make me want to read more, but, unfortunately, there is no more.
Let me start with the obvious downfalls in the writing here. It's bad. It's objectively bad. It reads like a draft that needed 3 more revisions to be polished. The footnote concept is a fun one, but every single footnote reads like an author's note in a fanfic, like the writer themselves is yelling at the characters ("You little shit. Fuck you. Oh, and also fuck you! lol."). Why do they (the annotator) make a big show of crossing out a certain word, only to drop it and stop doing it the next few chapters? Why do they toss out big sections, and then leave in other sections that we, the reader, can see them objecting to?
It feels like neither the writer nor editor bothered to sit down and read it, all of it, cover to cover. When read together, there are so many inconsistencies that make it feel careless, and choppy. The dialogue is stilted and forced, and I can tell there were one or two sentences that Rowland was really, really attached to—but they didn't work. They tried, but the sentence didn't work, so instead of letting go of that perfect sentence or finding a different way of involving it into the story, Rowland just couldn't let go, and instead made the dialogue awkwardly fall around that one perfect sentence. There are other ways to show things in a story beyond character A telling character B something out loud.
None of the dialogue reads like real humans speaking. Let me give you an example, spoilers omitted: imagine you're a Burger King frycook. Your district manager comes up, and you introduce yourself. "I used to go by Joey," you say, "but I'd prefer to be called Drew now." Your district manager—your boss's boss—looks wistfully off into the distance. "Ah, yes," he drawls out. "I know a thing or two about changing names. I changed mine once. Back when I lived in New York, where they only have men and women—which, I think, is very closeminded perspective of gender. My old friends from NYC may still call me a woman, because they haven't seen me in a while... But that's neither here nor there. Congrats on the name change." And then you stand there, laughing awkwardly, because you're lost for words at the uncomfortable interaction you just had with your superior.
All the dialogue reads like this. It's a constant flow of characters oversharing, and having conversations that feel so stilted, and forced, and obviously put in the book just so Rowland can tell us something, without having to actually show us. Mistress Chant is, supposedly, 46, and yet all her narration is written like a bad-mouthed 20 year old who just realized she can say the f-word without consequence. She reads exactly like Chant from book 1, even though she's supposedly wise, rational, and well-spoken, and an entirely different character.
And my biggest gripe with this story: it feels like it was written chapter-by-chapter. Themes get introduced randomly halfway through. Things happen, and then just fade off. The whole bit with the nudging, the whole side-plot with Shuggwa... why did they both get mentioned, and then fizzle out without adding much at the story? 1/2 of the way through I kept thinking "so what's the plot? What's the conflict?" 4/5 of the way through I was thinking the same thing, but with a bit more urgency because I only had 60 pages left. It doesn't feel like there are any stakes. It doesn't feel like there's any conflict. For the love of god, let someone get mad and punch a face! The entire story feels like the equivalent of watching two toddlers lazily fight over a candy wrapper in the park, but the mom next to you is narrating it as though they world is about to split in two and swallow them up and you're like "I'm sorry, can you stop cursing please?"
I want to read what this story could be, 3 revisions from now. I want to read what it could be if Rowland rewrote it from scratch, letting go of all the little sentences that were perfect, but didn't work. I want to read the type of story where the one (1) trans character isn't "revealed" as trans by outwardly telling the reader 4/5 of the way through. I want a story that has weight, that has a moral dilemma, that has consequences weighing down on Ylfing. And, I want to read the type of story where there's less dikes, and more dykes! Give me more lesbians!
(This little bit is just because I need to complain to SOMEONE. Why add in 6 social genders, and then end with a “I don't really understand the other 3, so I simply will ignore them”? Why put them in at all, why bring attention to the fact that the story is written in a non-native language that makes the 6 social genders clunky and hard to narrate, and then, most importantly why have another character draw attention to this fact in the footnotes to only continue emphasizing how unnecessary all of this is in the first place? It's so messy, convoluted, and entirely unnecessary.)
It’s a bad book. Don’t read this book. It’s not even fun to hate-read, unless you have a very strong stomach for bad writing. In which case, support your local library and go nuts.
ellagrant26's review against another edition
5.0
I cannot express how much I loved A Choir of Lies. The first book had been a masterpiece of political intrigue with the fate of a country in one careless man's hand. But this was an emotional gut-punch following a young man trying to recover from an overwhelming betray. It was deeply moving, achingly sweet and a true love letter to the nature of storytelling. When your main characters are storytellers for a living you can't escape that theme and the conversations between the two storytellers, done through the fantastic use of footnotes (if you wanna see how footnotes in fiction should be done then you need to read this) was a thought-provoking look at why we tell stories and the power they can carry. This series is gonna stick with me for a long time and I cannot wait to read more by this author.
wizardowl's review against another edition
5.0
Someone else said in their review that they'd rated the first book five stars but that this one was an even BETTER five stars, and I honestly couldn't agree more. This book is absolutely brilliant. It does all sorts of weird things with structure, but they don't seem contrived, they just work. There's a lot of good stuff in here about stories and accountability and loss and healing from trauma and it made me cry on at least two separate occasions.
Don't believe that it's a standalone, though; imho you definitely need to read A Conspiracy of Truths first for this one to make sense and, more importantly, to be emotionally impactful.
Don't believe that it's a standalone, though; imho you definitely need to read A Conspiracy of Truths first for this one to make sense and, more importantly, to be emotionally impactful.
losthitsu's review against another edition
5.0
Okay, I'll be first to admit that it doesn't take much for a book to make me cry, but I can't remember any that made me tear up with every other chapter. I wish I was exaggerating. And is this a tragic story? No!! It's just a boy and he's young and he doesn't know what to do with his life and I know that as someone who has at least one technically useless, six-years-of-my-life-that-seemingly-led-to-nowhere academic title to their name that I was bound to connect to this quite viscerally, but I also wonder if this isn't the one Story (haha get it) that is - unlike finding true love - really universal to all of us? Nevermind, I'm tearing up again. What a good book. What a book.
emmacatereads's review against another edition
4.0
This is a book about mistakes. Not just individual mistakes, but the mistakes of others, and the butterfly effect of errors that compound upon each other to create a storm. Rowland could have stopped it there and had the compelling bones of a story, but they chose to go even further, and create a story that is even moreso about the power of healing and forgiveness. Despite the fact that our protagonist, the Chant formerly known as Ylfing, spends much of the story in a dark place, the final message of the story is remarkably uplifting as Ylfing learns to turn his insecurities into badges of strength. Choir of Lies speaks to the power of hope, and presents an optimistic perceptive on the human ability to come together and put the good of the community over individual needs.
Similar to its predecessor, Choir of Lies is also a lovely homage to the tradition of storytelling. Not only does Rowland continue to weave their own original folktales into the narrative like little gems, they also brilliantly experiment with narrative structure--the whole novel reads as a conversation between the narrator and a reader in the footnotes. The whole time I was reading this, I was also reminded of a line from my favorite TV show, Black Sails -- "A story is true. A story is untrue. As time extends it matters less and less. The stories we want to believe – those are the ones that survive.". This is what the story gets at, above all else. Our lives do not always unfold beautifully or poetically. There is rage, and cruelty, and heartbreak. We love people who disappoint us ---. While we cannot always choose the experiences we have, we can choose what we take from them, and how they shape our own personal stories moving forward.
Similar to its predecessor, Choir of Lies is also a lovely homage to the tradition of storytelling. Not only does Rowland continue to weave their own original folktales into the narrative like little gems, they also brilliantly experiment with narrative structure--the whole novel reads as a conversation between the narrator and a reader in the footnotes. The whole time I was reading this, I was also reminded of a line from my favorite TV show, Black Sails -- "A story is true. A story is untrue. As time extends it matters less and less. The stories we want to believe – those are the ones that survive.". This is what the story gets at, above all else. Our lives do not always unfold beautifully or poetically. There is rage, and cruelty, and heartbreak. We love people who disappoint us ---
Spoiler
the deconstruction of Chant from the previous novel is an especially powerful example of thissam_ash_smash's review against another edition
5.0
Wow. Just, wow. I am sitting here, heart still pounding, still half breathless and absolutely dying to read more of Ylfing's story. I devoured both this book and the first one in the series. I couldn't put them down. I was reading them while brushing my teeth, while making coffee, while waiting for a meeting to start, when I should have been doing housework... any spare second I had, and some not so spare seconds. These books just gripped my heart and drew me in.
A Choir of Lies is both the same and vastly different from A Conspiracy of Truths. Chant and Ylfing are so different in character. Not just in age and experience - but their fundamental make-up. But, they are both storytellers - they watch, they listen, and they harness the power of words. Both books are told in first person, but in ACoT, Chant is telling the story to a particular person, one we never meet with some asides directed to this person. ACoL is Ylfing writing down his story - trying to make sense of his feelings and figure out who he is, his journal (although it's never called that), and it's annotated by another storyteller referred to as Mistress Chant. The plot of ACoT revolves around Chant trying to save himself and Ylfing (but mostly himself) from death and in the process destabilizing a government, inciting civil war, a foreign power to invade and faking his own death. A Choir of Lies deals with the effect those events had on Ylfing and the tulip bubble of the mid-1600s. But, both stories revolve around the power of words, the power of shared lies/stories. (depending on your viewpoint) - they ways people are the same - but more importantly, the ways we are different.
In ACoL, Rowland once again introduces us to a non-heteronormative fantasy culture, and once again, I love it. It's not a major plot point - it's just the setting of the story. Hyerland, a Holland influence city-state has six (6!) genders - these are represented in text by the titles used to refer to an individual, and by using he, she and they pronouns where appropriate. Marriage is not restricted by gender, and neither are societal roles. And as in ACoT - asexual/aromantic people are not invisible. These are not things that are forced down the reader's throat - they are just part of the inherent make-up of the book. If I sound a bit repetitive, well, this is something I am passionate about. Ahem - moving on.
I have no idea how Rowland managed to make economics so interesting. Honestly, this book is a great economics lesson, and even though I had previous knowledge of the tulipmania and foresaw the plot - it was still gripping. And since this is a work of fantasy and not a work of historical fiction - Rowland was free to change the ending. I knew where the middle was, but I did not know where the Rowland would go from there.
As with ACoT, I was drawn in by the characters. They felt human; they felt real. Perhaps even more so, due to the larger focus on character development in ACoL. Chant does not change in ACoT - that is not a part of the story. ACoL is Ylfing's coming of age story, and when it begins, he is grieving and still bewildered and unanchored after the events of ACoT; he is stuck, numb, and unable to move forward. I loved his story in ACoL. I loved him so much - I rather disliked the annotator - Mistress Chant at times. Her annotations were an interesting narrative device. They allow the reader to see another perspective on events without having a dual first-person narrative throughout the whole book, and they remind the reader that every story has multiple perspectives, that a first-person narrator will sometimes lie - sometimes on purpose, but mostly because they aren't an objective observer. There were also times when I liked Mistress Chant - mostly towards the end of the book, but also her comments on Orfeo. Her perspective on Ylfing was so different from mine that I found her just as proudful and stubborn as she claimed Ylfing was. I wouldn't mind meeting her again in another story to see if she also has changed.
And the ending. The ending was not the ending that I was looking for, but it was the ending the book needed. I cannot see it ending any other way. It was satisfying. It was sad and it was happy. And I am eager to find out what happens to Ylfing next.
A Choir of Lies is both the same and vastly different from A Conspiracy of Truths. Chant and Ylfing are so different in character. Not just in age and experience - but their fundamental make-up. But, they are both storytellers - they watch, they listen, and they harness the power of words. Both books are told in first person, but in ACoT, Chant is telling the story to a particular person, one we never meet with some asides directed to this person. ACoL is Ylfing writing down his story - trying to make sense of his feelings and figure out who he is, his journal (although it's never called that), and it's annotated by another storyteller referred to as Mistress Chant. The plot of ACoT revolves around Chant trying to save himself and Ylfing (but mostly himself) from death and in the process destabilizing a government, inciting civil war, a foreign power to invade and faking his own death. A Choir of Lies deals with the effect those events had on Ylfing and the tulip bubble of the mid-1600s. But, both stories revolve around the power of words, the power of shared lies/stories. (depending on your viewpoint) - they ways people are the same - but more importantly, the ways we are different.
Similarities don’t mean it’s the same. Each place has to be understood on its own terms.
In ACoL, Rowland once again introduces us to a non-heteronormative fantasy culture, and once again, I love it. It's not a major plot point - it's just the setting of the story. Hyerland, a Holland influence city-state has six (6!) genders - these are represented in text by the titles used to refer to an individual, and by using he, she and they pronouns where appropriate. Marriage is not restricted by gender, and neither are societal roles. And as in ACoT - asexual/aromantic people are not invisible. These are not things that are forced down the reader's throat - they are just part of the inherent make-up of the book. If I sound a bit repetitive, well, this is something I am passionate about. Ahem - moving on.
I have no idea how Rowland managed to make economics so interesting. Honestly, this book is a great economics lesson, and even though I had previous knowledge of the tulipmania and foresaw the plot - it was still gripping. And since this is a work of fantasy and not a work of historical fiction - Rowland was free to change the ending. I knew where the middle was, but I did not know where the Rowland would go from there.
Spoiler
And that bit with Shugwa - yes! Sequel PLEASE!As with ACoT, I was drawn in by the characters. They felt human; they felt real. Perhaps even more so, due to the larger focus on character development in ACoL. Chant does not change in ACoT - that is not a part of the story. ACoL is Ylfing's coming of age story, and when it begins, he is grieving and still bewildered and unanchored after the events of ACoT; he is stuck, numb, and unable to move forward. I loved his story in ACoL. I loved him so much - I rather disliked the annotator - Mistress Chant at times. Her annotations were an interesting narrative device. They allow the reader to see another perspective on events without having a dual first-person narrative throughout the whole book, and they remind the reader that every story has multiple perspectives, that a first-person narrator will sometimes lie - sometimes on purpose, but mostly because they aren't an objective observer. There were also times when I liked Mistress Chant - mostly towards the end of the book, but also her comments on Orfeo. Her perspective on Ylfing was so different from mine that I found her just as proudful and stubborn as she claimed Ylfing was. I wouldn't mind meeting her again in another story to see if she also has changed.
And the ending. The ending was not the ending that I was looking for, but it was the ending the book needed. I cannot see it ending any other way. It was satisfying. It was sad and it was happy. And I am eager to find out what happens to Ylfing next.
Everything we do, we do because of stories of one kind or another. Sometimes they’re small ones, like what color is fashionable this season, or how you can throw a penny off a bridge to make a wish, or whether penny-throwing from bridges is silly. Sometimes they’re bigger ones, like manners and laws and the importance of keeping promises. We tell each other these stories, and then we all have a rough idea of how to behave to each other in order to get along.