tsar's reviews
80 reviews
Book Lovers, by Emily Henry
(review to come)
emotional
funny
hopeful
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
“Maybe love shouldn’t be built on a foundation of compromises, but maybe it can’t exist without them either. Not the kind that forces two people into shapes they don’t fit in, but the kind that loosens their grips, always leaves room to grow.”
(review to come)
Content Warnings
Moderate: Death of parent, Panic attacks/disorders, and Grief
Fence, Vol. 5: Rise, by C.S. Pacat
Is there a change in Johanna's drawing style? Because whatever it is, the character designs seem more fluid and dynamic compared to the previous four volumes. It adds vibrancy to the exciting narrative implemented in the fifth volume: tournaments, practice games, rival schools, and training camps (basically, my favorite aspect of young adult sports fiction).
And our resident aloof main character Seiji Katayama becomes more tsundere throughout the arcs—I love his characterization now reminds me of Kageyama from Haikyuu, obviously holding a soft spot for his team, especially Nicholas, despite his numerous complaints. How he is now willing to be a little bit civil toward his teammates, albeit he is still awkward with them most of the time.
As for his chemistry with Nicholas? It's slow-burn, but I am fine with it because they're very much friendly now. I can't wait to see how they will act together when they are FINALLY dating.
Please, let volume six shows up faster.
emotional
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
5.0
“I want to work hard so that this team—our team—can go all the way to state championships, and win.”
Is there a change in Johanna's drawing style? Because whatever it is, the character designs seem more fluid and dynamic compared to the previous four volumes. It adds vibrancy to the exciting narrative implemented in the fifth volume: tournaments, practice games, rival schools, and training camps (basically, my favorite aspect of young adult sports fiction).
And our resident aloof main character Seiji Katayama becomes more tsundere throughout the arcs—I love his characterization now reminds me of Kageyama from Haikyuu, obviously holding a soft spot for his team, especially Nicholas, despite his numerous complaints. How he is now willing to be a little bit civil toward his teammates, albeit he is still awkward with them most of the time.
As for his chemistry with Nicholas? It's slow-burn, but I am fine with it because they're very much friendly now. I can't wait to see how they will act together when they are FINALLY dating.
Please, let volume six shows up faster.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Abandonment
Chain of Gold, by Cassandra Clare
Taking a break from the Shadowhunters saga was the best decision years ago; I felt refreshed and excited about the universe again when I recently returned to read The Last Hours. And finishing Chain of Gold, the first installment of the fourth Shadowhunters series, reconfirms my opinion that the Victorian and Edwardian generation of demon-hunting angel-descent humans is the best Shadowhunters era Clare has ever written.
Chain of Gold introduces the readers to Cordelia Carstairs, the Persian-English Shadowhunter and cousin of Jem Carstairs (now known as the Silent Brother Zachariah) who has arrived in London to forge strong alliances with London-based Shadowhunter families. Her mother believes that the alliance is to procure a strong marriage for Cordelia to save the entire family from shame after her father's arrest, while Cordelia attempts to use the new relations in order to prove her father's innocence. As she works hard to reach her goal, dark mysteries soon appear in London, threatening her purpose and the people she deeply cares about.
Clare has a penchant for introducing several seemingly unrelated conflicts that will gradually unite into one terrible twist; we had the messy identity crisis of Jace related to the modern dark Shadowhunters' uprising, an automaton battle that ties with Tessa Gray's curious origin, and so on. So, much like its predecessors, it is no different in how Clare constructs the narrative of Chain of Gold. The sporadic appearances of demons have a sinister purpose instead of a sudden rise, highlighting a foreshadowing issue of personal vendetta and a certain cycle where the worst troubles with demons will always involve the same one or two families, particularly the Herondale family.
Yet, this highlight also has a downside that I find to be a permanent sequence in all Shadowhunters' books: the cycle of dragging the same families to vast demonic mess helps solidify a ground for longtime readers to be in a comfort zone where the characters are at least familiar faces, but at the same time, it leaves little room for Clare to expand and explore other Shadowhunters beyond the western hemisphere in this extensive universe she's built. I would love to see a story with Shanghai-based Shadowhunters, or even other western countries like Paris or Berlin—a set of new characters in different cities that have different styles and traditions beyond the same Shadowhunters' tradition.
Putting aside the slightly given critique, I love how Clare develops the narrative to its climax, especially in this landscape of the Edwardian generation. Unlike the previous generation or even the modern timeline, Cordelia and her friends are not yet equipped to handle crises despite the amount of training and missions they've done to defend the city. This generation is relatively lax, indulging more in hedonistic pleasures alongside the downworlders they're surprisingly very civil with. As a result, their confrontation against stronger enemies showcases their inexperience, leaving the adults to clean up their mess while at the same time, becoming a harsh slap of reality that this generation has to take the downworlder problems more seriously.
Furthermore, it leaves a space for the young characters to develop and an arc to resolve; for the characters, the repeated attacks push them to use their potential even more, from Cordelia's aptitude with Cortana to the Herondales' affinity with the underworld or the Merry Thieves and their clever ways to solve a supernatural mystery. As for the conflict, it opens a path to a certain arc left in The Infernal Devices regarding the background of Tessa Gray's lineage—she's known to have demonic blood in her veins, passed down to her children James and Lucie without knowing which demon is the true parentage of her descendancy—that will not only answer them, but also directly serve to bring closure to the conflict.
Regarding its main characters, Cordelia Carstairs became my favorite out of all the heroines introduced in the Shadowhunters' universe. Cordelia shares the same stubborn, no-nonsense attitude as her peers, albeit she is less street-smart than them. Her apprehension yet appreciation towards the century-long Shadowhunters' tradition enlightens the difficulty in keeping up with the expectations of a high-class society, especially for a woman in the Edwardian era. Moreover, her hopeless romantic personality is a refreshing take to see. I did fear that this characterization might tamper her tell-tale badass attitude, and yet, her tenacity is perfectly intact as well as her cleverness and high curiosity that she's been portraying since her introduction, while her romanticism becomes a nice enhancing element that brings out a multi-layered depiction of Cordelia.
James Herondale acts more like a mellowed-out Will (his father), still playful and playboy-ish, but with a certain sentimentality born from his equally hopeless romantic nature and more secluded preference to be with people he's familiar with rather than being a social butterfly. I find his portrayal unusual and transcends through the fourth wall perspective of a reader; the unreliability of his memories, often confusing and complacent disposition permeates across the narrative—Clare succeeds in creating a fairly suspicious and curious perception towards James, which carries over from the other characters in the book to the readers who are invested to the story. It is why the difference in his actions between his semi-conscious state and his unrestrained condition feels jarring as if both characters and readers are witnessing two different souls living in the same body.
The other characters weigh their worth enormously as well; Matthew Herondale is a fun, contrasting character that compliments James' more quiet attitude. He's brash, street and book-smart, which makes him easily adapt to different environments he's thrown into—he's my second favorite after Cordelia. Lucie is also a similarly joyous character like Matthew, but more stubborn and if I dare to say this, she's much more daring to break the limits compared to the male characters in the books. I want Clare to explore more of Christopher and Thomas Lightwood, the last two members of James' Merry Thieves gang. She has given a headstart to Thomas when she incorporates his complicated history with Alastair, which I hope could be an excellent foundation to expand his development. On the other hand, aside from the brief showcase of his ingenious brain as a scientist, Christopher's character development is slightly left behind compared to his peers.
Overall, I am satisfied with Chain of Gold. It's adventurous, staying true to Cassandra Clare's style in marrying Biblical mythology to fantasy while imbuing the dramatic flair of the period drama genre. I can't wait to finish the rest of the trilogy, and I think I'd like to collect the physical versions of this series!
challenging
dark
emotional
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.5
“We don’t always love people who deserve it.”
Taking a break from the Shadowhunters saga was the best decision years ago; I felt refreshed and excited about the universe again when I recently returned to read The Last Hours. And finishing Chain of Gold, the first installment of the fourth Shadowhunters series, reconfirms my opinion that the Victorian and Edwardian generation of demon-hunting angel-descent humans is the best Shadowhunters era Clare has ever written.
Chain of Gold introduces the readers to Cordelia Carstairs, the Persian-English Shadowhunter and cousin of Jem Carstairs (now known as the Silent Brother Zachariah) who has arrived in London to forge strong alliances with London-based Shadowhunter families. Her mother believes that the alliance is to procure a strong marriage for Cordelia to save the entire family from shame after her father's arrest, while Cordelia attempts to use the new relations in order to prove her father's innocence. As she works hard to reach her goal, dark mysteries soon appear in London, threatening her purpose and the people she deeply cares about.
Clare has a penchant for introducing several seemingly unrelated conflicts that will gradually unite into one terrible twist; we had the messy identity crisis of Jace related to the modern dark Shadowhunters' uprising, an automaton battle that ties with Tessa Gray's curious origin, and so on. So, much like its predecessors, it is no different in how Clare constructs the narrative of Chain of Gold. The sporadic appearances of demons have a sinister purpose instead of a sudden rise, highlighting a foreshadowing issue of personal vendetta and a certain cycle where the worst troubles with demons will always involve the same one or two families, particularly the Herondale family.
Yet, this highlight also has a downside that I find to be a permanent sequence in all Shadowhunters' books: the cycle of dragging the same families to vast demonic mess helps solidify a ground for longtime readers to be in a comfort zone where the characters are at least familiar faces, but at the same time, it leaves little room for Clare to expand and explore other Shadowhunters beyond the western hemisphere in this extensive universe she's built. I would love to see a story with Shanghai-based Shadowhunters, or even other western countries like Paris or Berlin—a set of new characters in different cities that have different styles and traditions beyond the same Shadowhunters' tradition.
Putting aside the slightly given critique, I love how Clare develops the narrative to its climax, especially in this landscape of the Edwardian generation. Unlike the previous generation or even the modern timeline, Cordelia and her friends are not yet equipped to handle crises despite the amount of training and missions they've done to defend the city. This generation is relatively lax, indulging more in hedonistic pleasures alongside the downworlders they're surprisingly very civil with. As a result, their confrontation against stronger enemies showcases their inexperience, leaving the adults to clean up their mess while at the same time, becoming a harsh slap of reality that this generation has to take the downworlder problems more seriously.
Furthermore, it leaves a space for the young characters to develop and an arc to resolve; for the characters, the repeated attacks push them to use their potential even more, from Cordelia's aptitude with Cortana to the Herondales' affinity with the underworld or the Merry Thieves and their clever ways to solve a supernatural mystery. As for the conflict, it opens a path to a certain arc left in The Infernal Devices regarding the background of Tessa Gray's lineage—she's known to have demonic blood in her veins, passed down to her children James and Lucie without knowing which demon is the true parentage of her descendancy—that will not only answer them, but also directly serve to bring closure to the conflict.
Regarding its main characters, Cordelia Carstairs became my favorite out of all the heroines introduced in the Shadowhunters' universe. Cordelia shares the same stubborn, no-nonsense attitude as her peers, albeit she is less street-smart than them. Her apprehension yet appreciation towards the century-long Shadowhunters' tradition enlightens the difficulty in keeping up with the expectations of a high-class society, especially for a woman in the Edwardian era. Moreover, her hopeless romantic personality is a refreshing take to see. I did fear that this characterization might tamper her tell-tale badass attitude, and yet, her tenacity is perfectly intact as well as her cleverness and high curiosity that she's been portraying since her introduction, while her romanticism becomes a nice enhancing element that brings out a multi-layered depiction of Cordelia.
James Herondale acts more like a mellowed-out Will (his father), still playful and playboy-ish, but with a certain sentimentality born from his equally hopeless romantic nature and more secluded preference to be with people he's familiar with rather than being a social butterfly. I find his portrayal unusual and transcends through the fourth wall perspective of a reader; the unreliability of his memories, often confusing and complacent disposition permeates across the narrative—Clare succeeds in creating a fairly suspicious and curious perception towards James, which carries over from the other characters in the book to the readers who are invested to the story. It is why the difference in his actions between his semi-conscious state and his unrestrained condition feels jarring as if both characters and readers are witnessing two different souls living in the same body.
The other characters weigh their worth enormously as well; Matthew Herondale is a fun, contrasting character that compliments James' more quiet attitude. He's brash, street and book-smart, which makes him easily adapt to different environments he's thrown into—he's my second favorite after Cordelia. Lucie is also a similarly joyous character like Matthew, but more stubborn and if I dare to say this, she's much more daring to break the limits compared to the male characters in the books. I want Clare to explore more of Christopher and Thomas Lightwood, the last two members of James' Merry Thieves gang. She has given a headstart to Thomas when she incorporates his complicated history with Alastair, which I hope could be an excellent foundation to expand his development. On the other hand, aside from the brief showcase of his ingenious brain as a scientist, Christopher's character development is slightly left behind compared to his peers.
Overall, I am satisfied with Chain of Gold. It's adventurous, staying true to Cassandra Clare's style in marrying Biblical mythology to fantasy while imbuing the dramatic flair of the period drama genre. I can't wait to finish the rest of the trilogy, and I think I'd like to collect the physical versions of this series!
Content Warnings
Graphic: Alcoholism
Moderate: Grief and Sexism
Minor: Miscarriage
SLAY, by Brittney Morris
When it comes to black girl magic, there are so many things to unpack from the brilliant twenty chapters of Slay offered by Brittney Morris. We are introduced to Kiera Johnson, an honors student who is prodigious enough to create a role-playing game with the titular name not only for budding gamers across the world to come together but also a space for black people to retouch themselves with their universal culture—that is until the death of one of the gamers that attract unwanted negative attention from the publics' eye start building internalized doubt of Kiera's credibility and integrity as the creator of a platform, which is ostentatiously emphasizing a safe space for black people without fear of judgment or mistreatment.
For Morris, a safe space is an intersectionalized term for the global black community. It is apparent in the way she inputs different perspectives outside of Kiera to see how a role-playing card game would affect a black person from various backgrounds and countries; a lawyer, a lesbian CEO, Kiera's creator partner who is a half-Caucasian half-Black girl from France, and so on. I am not one to favor different narrators in a book, however, Morris delivers one of the best and most nuanced writing for this concept that seamlessly integrates the role of the game, and to an extent Kiera, for their respective lives instead of becoming wholly separate stories that don't add up to one another. More so, it creates a genuine reaction on how the cards, which draw heavily from the black culture, represent their identity and knowledge through their use as offensive and defensive moves as they battle them out in the game.
Still focusing on the story, the issues about the game put Kiera and her creation in a rather unique position. Morris writes their stances to be in tune with the projection of black excellence outcried by the community, which again, highlighting intersectionality by having a spirited young black girl countering the tools of white men into a multi-cultural extension stray far from the possibilities of marginalization. The more the publics' eye as well as Kiera's boyfriend Malcolm's attempt to dismiss Slay as nothing but a violent and secluded platform, Morris determines more of its excellence to present and stump these aggressive accusations.
Similar to the character Starr from Angie Thomas' The Hate U Give, Kiera is not in an environment that is outwardly friendly to black people: she studies in a private academy that is mostly dominated by white people, in which her becoming one of the few x-factors that could be considered as the token multi-racial representative of the school, and gets stuck with the performative boyfriend that disguises his leaking sexism as strong support to black equality. The way Kiera carries herself in handling these problematic aspects that surround her truly impresses me. She's capable to confront a situation with subtle tenacity, delivering the right counters for her to win her battles even when the atmosphere is not in her favor or the pressure is too uptight for her to navigate aside from her genuine understanding of video games and strong determination to uplift black excellence.
The sisterhood illustrated in the book is also one of the most highlighted parts that are perfectly honed. Here we have equally smart sisters, yet seemingly different in personalities—the game shows how much they are similar to one another instead, and influences them to strengthen their sibling bond where they could understand and help each other further. More or less, this sisterhood somehow replaces and dominates the broken ties between Kiera and Malcolm, in which their past relationship is already at the stage of unhealthy co-dependency, which also heals Kiera in the process.
Hence, Slay easily becomes one of my best and possibly remembered reads of this year. The minimum chapters never seem to look like they serve an unfinished story, but it unpacks the role of a black girl in helping the black community in a condensed nuance that should be reserved as further food for thoughts.
dark
emotional
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
“As we duel, as we chat, there's an understanding that "your black is not my black" and "your weird is not my weird" and "your beautiful is not my beautiful," and that's okay. It' brings tears to my eyes if I think about it too long.”
When it comes to black girl magic, there are so many things to unpack from the brilliant twenty chapters of Slay offered by Brittney Morris. We are introduced to Kiera Johnson, an honors student who is prodigious enough to create a role-playing game with the titular name not only for budding gamers across the world to come together but also a space for black people to retouch themselves with their universal culture—that is until the death of one of the gamers that attract unwanted negative attention from the publics' eye start building internalized doubt of Kiera's credibility and integrity as the creator of a platform, which is ostentatiously emphasizing a safe space for black people without fear of judgment or mistreatment.
For Morris, a safe space is an intersectionalized term for the global black community. It is apparent in the way she inputs different perspectives outside of Kiera to see how a role-playing card game would affect a black person from various backgrounds and countries; a lawyer, a lesbian CEO, Kiera's creator partner who is a half-Caucasian half-Black girl from France, and so on. I am not one to favor different narrators in a book, however, Morris delivers one of the best and most nuanced writing for this concept that seamlessly integrates the role of the game, and to an extent Kiera, for their respective lives instead of becoming wholly separate stories that don't add up to one another. More so, it creates a genuine reaction on how the cards, which draw heavily from the black culture, represent their identity and knowledge through their use as offensive and defensive moves as they battle them out in the game.
Still focusing on the story, the issues about the game put Kiera and her creation in a rather unique position. Morris writes their stances to be in tune with the projection of black excellence outcried by the community, which again, highlighting intersectionality by having a spirited young black girl countering the tools of white men into a multi-cultural extension stray far from the possibilities of marginalization. The more the publics' eye as well as Kiera's boyfriend Malcolm's attempt to dismiss Slay as nothing but a violent and secluded platform, Morris determines more of its excellence to present and stump these aggressive accusations.
Similar to the character Starr from Angie Thomas' The Hate U Give, Kiera is not in an environment that is outwardly friendly to black people: she studies in a private academy that is mostly dominated by white people, in which her becoming one of the few x-factors that could be considered as the token multi-racial representative of the school, and gets stuck with the performative boyfriend that disguises his leaking sexism as strong support to black equality. The way Kiera carries herself in handling these problematic aspects that surround her truly impresses me. She's capable to confront a situation with subtle tenacity, delivering the right counters for her to win her battles even when the atmosphere is not in her favor or the pressure is too uptight for her to navigate aside from her genuine understanding of video games and strong determination to uplift black excellence.
The sisterhood illustrated in the book is also one of the most highlighted parts that are perfectly honed. Here we have equally smart sisters, yet seemingly different in personalities—the game shows how much they are similar to one another instead, and influences them to strengthen their sibling bond where they could understand and help each other further. More or less, this sisterhood somehow replaces and dominates the broken ties between Kiera and Malcolm, in which their past relationship is already at the stage of unhealthy co-dependency, which also heals Kiera in the process.
Hence, Slay easily becomes one of my best and possibly remembered reads of this year. The minimum chapters never seem to look like they serve an unfinished story, but it unpacks the role of a black girl in helping the black community in a condensed nuance that should be reserved as further food for thoughts.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Bullying, Racism, and Emotional abuse
Moderate: Violence
Minor: Murder
Bloom, by Kevin Panetta
This is a fast read, but one that I could enjoy during my past time. A story of coming-of-age between two people who are uncertain on what they want to do with their future, wrapped in a trope that sets inside a bakery that has been passed down for generations. I love the detailed sketches of the pastries—they successfully make me salivate for the taste and think about getting some sweet desserts for myself!
emotional
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
4.0
“Maybe just... Don't try to be what you think you should be. Be what you love.”
This is a fast read, but one that I could enjoy during my past time. A story of coming-of-age between two people who are uncertain on what they want to do with their future, wrapped in a trope that sets inside a bakery that has been passed down for generations. I love the detailed sketches of the pastries—they successfully make me salivate for the taste and think about getting some sweet desserts for myself!
Content Warnings
Moderate: Fire/Fire injury and Bullying
Sorcery of Thorns, by Margaret Rogerson
The idea of magic being religiously evil and relates it to the demonic dimension is a trope that we have seen from time to time in a fantasy work, which has their own quirks to feature so they could be differentiated from one another. For the world of Sorcery of Thorns, magic is literally a bind with the devil that uses a bunch of grimoires from varied danger levels while the book also establishes librarians whose responsibilities are more than just keeping the book safe; they keep the books to avoid vile practices.
We are then introduced to Elisabeth, the young apprentice wishing to be one of the best librarians, who has a mysterious power where the great libraries seem to take a liking on her. When her dear mentor is murdered and Elisabeth finds herself taking the blame, it's up for her to journey the capital to clear her name and solve the mystery before doom rises upon the country. That is when she meets the illustrious young sorcerer Nathaniel Thorn and his demon servant, ultimately discovering that the conspiracy runs deeper than her initial deduction.
Like any other fantasy standalone, Sorcery of Thorns does not imbue a head-turning plot twist or a complete drag of a subplot as we often see in a fantasy series. Rather, it is a pretty straight-forward tale that illustrates the conflict to its resolution. Rogerson does have space to briefly explain the world that she creates in regards to sorcery and great libraries for readers to understand the basic layout. Although, the aim of packing it into one book sacrifices a wider expansion to create a world-building that is more complex or clear up several aspects with glaring plot-holes, such as the mysterious nature of Elisabeth and her abilities that have the potential to surpass the greatest sorcerer or librarian.
Elisabeth is an interesting character, if we talk about the potential that she has in terms of power and position in society. She has one of the utmost struggles of being demeaned and underestimated because of her gender position, in which one of the examples is the scene where Ashcroft easily wins the trust of people with his version of the truth and deems Elisabeth to be mentally unhealthy, despite that she has discovered and aired out his wickedness. However, when it comes to her personality, not much that I could talk except her willfulness and headstrong character that seems to be a favorite when it comes to writing strong female characters.
On the other hand, between Silas and Nathaniel as the men accompanying Elisabeth in her mission, Nathaniel has a more subdued presence that does not give him scope to showcase many impressions as a powerful sorcerer or a love interest to Elisabeth as he is intended to be. Whereas Silas seems to outshine the human characters by the complexity of his purpose and character as well as the subtle character development that grows from his experience as both a companion and demon servant to the Thorn family and Elisabeth. I would love to see Rogerson explore more of Silas, particularly his relationship with the Thorn family before Elisabeth comes to the picture. There must be some extent that also transforms his views towards mortals other than the present cases.
Nonetheless, you can't help but be charmed by this adventurous tale that Sorcery of Thorns has to offer in one book. I have yet to read Rogerson's debut, as that one seems to gather more mixed reactions than this, but I am looking forward to seeing more of her. Hopefully, she will be deigned to write a series.
adventurous
dark
lighthearted
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
4.0
“Knowledge always has the potential to be dangerous. It is a more powerful weapon than any sword or spell.”
The idea of magic being religiously evil and relates it to the demonic dimension is a trope that we have seen from time to time in a fantasy work, which has their own quirks to feature so they could be differentiated from one another. For the world of Sorcery of Thorns, magic is literally a bind with the devil that uses a bunch of grimoires from varied danger levels while the book also establishes librarians whose responsibilities are more than just keeping the book safe; they keep the books to avoid vile practices.
We are then introduced to Elisabeth, the young apprentice wishing to be one of the best librarians, who has a mysterious power where the great libraries seem to take a liking on her. When her dear mentor is murdered and Elisabeth finds herself taking the blame, it's up for her to journey the capital to clear her name and solve the mystery before doom rises upon the country. That is when she meets the illustrious young sorcerer Nathaniel Thorn and his demon servant, ultimately discovering that the conspiracy runs deeper than her initial deduction.
Like any other fantasy standalone, Sorcery of Thorns does not imbue a head-turning plot twist or a complete drag of a subplot as we often see in a fantasy series. Rather, it is a pretty straight-forward tale that illustrates the conflict to its resolution. Rogerson does have space to briefly explain the world that she creates in regards to sorcery and great libraries for readers to understand the basic layout. Although, the aim of packing it into one book sacrifices a wider expansion to create a world-building that is more complex or clear up several aspects with glaring plot-holes, such as the mysterious nature of Elisabeth and her abilities that have the potential to surpass the greatest sorcerer or librarian.
Elisabeth is an interesting character, if we talk about the potential that she has in terms of power and position in society. She has one of the utmost struggles of being demeaned and underestimated because of her gender position, in which one of the examples is the scene where Ashcroft easily wins the trust of people with his version of the truth and deems Elisabeth to be mentally unhealthy, despite that she has discovered and aired out his wickedness. However, when it comes to her personality, not much that I could talk except her willfulness and headstrong character that seems to be a favorite when it comes to writing strong female characters.
On the other hand, between Silas and Nathaniel as the men accompanying Elisabeth in her mission, Nathaniel has a more subdued presence that does not give him scope to showcase many impressions as a powerful sorcerer or a love interest to Elisabeth as he is intended to be. Whereas Silas seems to outshine the human characters by the complexity of his purpose and character as well as the subtle character development that grows from his experience as both a companion and demon servant to the Thorn family and Elisabeth. I would love to see Rogerson explore more of Silas, particularly his relationship with the Thorn family before Elisabeth comes to the picture. There must be some extent that also transforms his views towards mortals other than the present cases.
Nonetheless, you can't help but be charmed by this adventurous tale that Sorcery of Thorns has to offer in one book. I have yet to read Rogerson's debut, as that one seems to gather more mixed reactions than this, but I am looking forward to seeing more of her. Hopefully, she will be deigned to write a series.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Misogyny, Violence, Sexism, and Gaslighting
Love from A to Z, by S.K. Ali
Aside from the classics assigned during my college years, I've never truly ventured to contemporary Muslim fiction, in which I did assume that they are minimum in numbers and old-fashioned in narrative. For those thoughts alone, I am ashamed to have such prejudicial presumption towards the fiction style since the reality of contemporary Muslim tales are as modern as they are aware of the culture revolving around the religion.
Come by the romantic story of two people meeting at the airport as they are boarding the same flight to Doha, in which they are delightedly surprised to expect their interaction to be more frequent as they are familiar with related mutuals. However, the essence of romantic comedy serves as a veil to the eventual discussion that Love from A to Z aims to confer through the correspondence between Adam and Zayneb that is the exploration of their complex Muslim identity.
In her assertion of a love story, Ali elaborates on their Muslim individuality that is seemingly similar at first glance, yet their conspicuous leanings gradually emerge to define how the religious faith integrates with their identity in the matter of idealistic perception. For Zayneb, who has lived her life under extreme scrutiny for the physical signs as a Muslim woman, her unapologetic assertiveness in abating the negative light on her religion is her way to combat the racial yet religious prejudice that she has to endure at school because of her teacher. While Adam does not experience similar discrimination as Zayneb, he projects his Islamic faith as his path to find peace as he inadvertently faces internal difficulties that could threaten his life in the present or future altogether.
The differences in their way of living expectedly clash Zayneb and Adam against one another, particularly in realizing the fact that all the expectations of understanding each other's situation are not met by the reality of their interaction. However, Ali utilizes the collision to create a reflective momentum for Zayneb and Adam to reconstruct their thoughts that gradually adopt each other's ideas to form a better sense of approach in handling their respective struggles.
Despite having such a heavyweight character-driven story, it does not mean that the book is boorish by all means. Ali engages her readers through journal-style writing as if it is realistic documentation from the real parties involved in the story. As a result, her story is as communicative as it is empathetic—she readily illustrates dialogues and situations where readers, notably young adult Muslim readers, to relate with the circumstances of the characters, whether they are the main or the supporting ones.
To conclude, what a wonderfully heartwarming tale of two Muslims engaging with each other that duplicates as a character study of their cultural identity. For some, books like Love from A to Z are oddities in the sea of generally Caucasian-esque focus of young adult novels, but it is a stunning marvel in illustrating diversity in literature.
emotional
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? N/A
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
4.5
“Maybe that's what living is—recognizing the marvels and oddities around you.”
Aside from the classics assigned during my college years, I've never truly ventured to contemporary Muslim fiction, in which I did assume that they are minimum in numbers and old-fashioned in narrative. For those thoughts alone, I am ashamed to have such prejudicial presumption towards the fiction style since the reality of contemporary Muslim tales are as modern as they are aware of the culture revolving around the religion.
Come by the romantic story of two people meeting at the airport as they are boarding the same flight to Doha, in which they are delightedly surprised to expect their interaction to be more frequent as they are familiar with related mutuals. However, the essence of romantic comedy serves as a veil to the eventual discussion that Love from A to Z aims to confer through the correspondence between Adam and Zayneb that is the exploration of their complex Muslim identity.
In her assertion of a love story, Ali elaborates on their Muslim individuality that is seemingly similar at first glance, yet their conspicuous leanings gradually emerge to define how the religious faith integrates with their identity in the matter of idealistic perception. For Zayneb, who has lived her life under extreme scrutiny for the physical signs as a Muslim woman, her unapologetic assertiveness in abating the negative light on her religion is her way to combat the racial yet religious prejudice that she has to endure at school because of her teacher. While Adam does not experience similar discrimination as Zayneb, he projects his Islamic faith as his path to find peace as he inadvertently faces internal difficulties that could threaten his life in the present or future altogether.
The differences in their way of living expectedly clash Zayneb and Adam against one another, particularly in realizing the fact that all the expectations of understanding each other's situation are not met by the reality of their interaction. However, Ali utilizes the collision to create a reflective momentum for Zayneb and Adam to reconstruct their thoughts that gradually adopt each other's ideas to form a better sense of approach in handling their respective struggles.
Despite having such a heavyweight character-driven story, it does not mean that the book is boorish by all means. Ali engages her readers through journal-style writing as if it is realistic documentation from the real parties involved in the story. As a result, her story is as communicative as it is empathetic—she readily illustrates dialogues and situations where readers, notably young adult Muslim readers, to relate with the circumstances of the characters, whether they are the main or the supporting ones.
To conclude, what a wonderfully heartwarming tale of two Muslims engaging with each other that duplicates as a character study of their cultural identity. For some, books like Love from A to Z are oddities in the sea of generally Caucasian-esque focus of young adult novels, but it is a stunning marvel in illustrating diversity in literature.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Islamophobia and Racism
Moderate: Chronic illness
Minor: Animal cruelty, Cultural appropriation, and Death of parent
They Both Die at the End, by Adam Silvera
What do we do if we know when we would die despite not knowing how we would go? For the novel They Both Die at the End, the answer lies one phone call away from each other.
A slow-burn story that aims to navigate the regrets and happiness before our dying days, Silvera brings the readers to a contemplative mood through the short journey between Mateo and Rufus. Each of them learns to accept their weaknesses and keep each other's spirits up, prompting them to tie many loose ends that have been left unattended for quite some time. For readers who have been introduced to such a heart-breaking summary, seeing how much the two boys gradually impacting one another is a riveting moment to savor, in which we can't help but wish that they could survive another day without a Final Destination implication that demands them to repay the extra life given to their living.
Representation is not a gratuitous token for Silvera as his identity as a queer Latinx is visibly drawn to portray a nuanced illustration of queer Latinos in their late young adults, albeit the impending doom upon their faces. Silvera gradually discusses the diaspora of their cultural identity within the expectation and the hope beyond what is perceived. At some point, it might sound a bit pretentious to read as this gradual reveal seems to age up the characters more than their age.
I don't mind multiple point-of-views as long as they tightly intertwine to the main characters as well as the story, but to see this book spouting numerous people with their thoughts written despite not connected to the story, it feels too sporadic and unfocused. I would've preferred to see Mateo and Rufus as the only narrators of the novel, or they could add one or two biggest supporting characters to add another angle.
Nonetheless, I still enjoy what Silvera has to offer. I love the premise and the cliff-hanger ending written that promises peace and hope to the characters. It could be said as something that we need as a reader and a person.
challenging
dark
emotional
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
3.0
“...stories can make someone immortal as long as someone else is willing to listen.”
What do we do if we know when we would die despite not knowing how we would go? For the novel They Both Die at the End, the answer lies one phone call away from each other.
A slow-burn story that aims to navigate the regrets and happiness before our dying days, Silvera brings the readers to a contemplative mood through the short journey between Mateo and Rufus. Each of them learns to accept their weaknesses and keep each other's spirits up, prompting them to tie many loose ends that have been left unattended for quite some time. For readers who have been introduced to such a heart-breaking summary, seeing how much the two boys gradually impacting one another is a riveting moment to savor, in which we can't help but wish that they could survive another day without a Final Destination implication that demands them to repay the extra life given to their living.
Representation is not a gratuitous token for Silvera as his identity as a queer Latinx is visibly drawn to portray a nuanced illustration of queer Latinos in their late young adults, albeit the impending doom upon their faces. Silvera gradually discusses the diaspora of their cultural identity within the expectation and the hope beyond what is perceived. At some point, it might sound a bit pretentious to read as this gradual reveal seems to age up the characters more than their age.
I don't mind multiple point-of-views as long as they tightly intertwine to the main characters as well as the story, but to see this book spouting numerous people with their thoughts written despite not connected to the story, it feels too sporadic and unfocused. I would've preferred to see Mateo and Rufus as the only narrators of the novel, or they could add one or two biggest supporting characters to add another angle.
Nonetheless, I still enjoy what Silvera has to offer. I love the premise and the cliff-hanger ending written that promises peace and hope to the characters. It could be said as something that we need as a reader and a person.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Suicide attempt, Grief, Violence, Panic attacks/disorders, and Death
Minor: Homophobia