Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping Than you can understand. -William Butler Yeats Vampires stalk the night, hungry for blood. Werewolves lose their morality and turn into beasts. Zombies have an insatiable need for living flesh. Still, no creature of lore terrifies me quite like the Fair Folk and their secret world nestled right beside our own. My fear of the Fair Folk went from "Best mind that which I don't understand," to "These creatures stalk my nightmares" courtesy of two works of young adult fiction. The idea of a creature who cannot lie, but is so beguiling and clever that they can trick humankind into becoming toys, servants, entertainment, and even delicacies with twisted riddles and a knack for double-speech—who wouldn’t be afraid? It’s no wonder that people still respect the Fae with due caution to this day. The first of the two books is THE CALL by Peadar O’Guilin. I listened to the audiobook read by the phenomenal Amy Shiels. The creeping tension made by the looming threat of the Sidhe as depicted by O’Guilin, combined with Shiels’ narrative skills, wove a story that had me itching for any moment I had to listen.
Following Nessa’s journey as she watches each of her classmates be Called, coming back as disfigured, mangled, corpses is enrapturing. Beyond that, I was captivated by the brutal ways of the Sidhe that O’Guilin depicted. Merciless, bloodthirsty, and dreadfully creative with how they toy with each mortal Called to their world, the Sidhe are perfect monsters driven by a furious need for revenge. The Faeries in Holly Black’s THE CRUEL PRINCE are an entirely different manner of monsters, but they follow the same rules that the legends dictate. Where THE CALL has a distinct ‘horror’ vibe to it, THE CRUEL PRINCE focuses more on the danger of courtly intrigue in the vein of GAME OF THRONES.
Unlike THE CALL, THE CRUEL PRINCE takes place primarily in Faerie and focuses more on intrigue and courtly politics. There is also a primarily faerie cast of characters that drew my affection quickly, but not because they were kind. As the title suggests, the faeries that Jude must navigate as a mortal in an immortal world are cruel and malicious. Some prefer outright violence. Still others prefer to toy with mortal emotions. There is one thing that unites all of the faeries in THE CRUEL PRINCE: cross them, and they will not hesitate to inflict punishment. Both THE CALL and THE CRUEL PRINCE were captivating reads, and I look forward to reading both sequels: THE INVASION and THE WICKED KING respectively. I’ve always regarded the Fae as mysterious and dangerous, but thanks to Peadar O’Guilin and Holly Black, I’ll be thinking twice before I make any promises to strangers offering to grant wishes. Title quote by William Butler Yeats.
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Here’s my honest review from Goodreads. I stumbled upon this book by accident. I was scrolling through Twitter and saw a tweet offering an ARC of Mask of Shadows to the first NB/Genderfluid reader that replied. I was intrigued, having known nothing about this book beforehand, so I replied just for fun, and by some strange stroke of luck, I won! Fast-forward and it’s in my mailbox. I didn’t intend to read it right away. I was getting married in a few weeks, and Pitchwars was looming—I needed to prioritize. That ‘prioritizing’ nonsense shot straight out the window when I read the back cover. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the book, here’s all you need to know:
Needless to say, seeing that Sal was a genderfluid character jumped me into overdrive. I’ve never read a book with a genderfluid character, let alone one that wasn’t centered around them coming out. Nope. Couldn’t wait. This demanded to be read, and I would happily obey. I went in wary, and came out overjoyed. It’s cliché to say that it made me laugh out loud and then cry a page later, but it did. I can’t even lie. Sal was endearing and flawed. They were spunky, full of fight, but had moments of vulnerability that anyone could connect with. And while I started reading for Sal, I kept reading for all of the other characters. I came to care deeply for all of them, which is a bad move in a book about assassins killing each other, if you were wondering. I’m all for a good book that kills characters, but I hate when they’re killed just for shock value. There was none of that to be had in Miller’s story. I could curse the moon over why she killed the characters she did, but it was right—necessary, and poignant, and right. And the romance of it. I knew who the love interest would be from the start, but not because it was a cliché meet-cute—anything but. I knew because of the instant chemistry between the characters, especially given their unorthodox meeting. It develops naturally without hindering the plot, and ultimately raises the stakes of the conflict. And it’s really damn cute. Like, I-need-to-put-this-down-for-a-second-and-roll-around-on-the-bed cute. Finally, the most important part of this review: how Sal’s gender was handled. While genderfluid comes in many forms, Sal’s identity and pronouns shift with how they choose to present that day. If they dress masculine, use he/him. If they dress feminine, use she/her. If they’re presenting androgynous, they/them. Sal’s apprehension about being misgendered feels real and relatable. They defend themselves against those who choose to misgender them, but still show how difficult that can be to do. On top of that, the characters who choose to misgender Sal do it as an act of aggression and disrespect. You know the people who do it are assholes, for lack of a better word, and even when Sal isn’t in a position to defend their identity, you can be sure that one of the other characters won’t tolerate it. Despite it being a fantasy setting, the difficulties Sal faces because of their gender identity are realistic and handled tactfully. It comes down to this: Linsey Miller’s Mask of Shadows is fun, poignant, exciting, and important. I came out of reading that inspired. I connected with a character in a way I’ve never done before. Sal’s gender was never a joke or a punchline. It was never something that held them back, or something they needed to overcome. It was just another facet of exploring the beautiful complexity of a character driven by revenge, and the desire for something more than life has yet to offer. I would scream about this book from the mountain tops if I had easy access to a mountain.
Put this book on your TBR shelf on Goodreads. Pre-order it. Spread the word, especially to people in the trans and non-binary communities. Show the publishing world that there needs to be more books like this by supporting the crap out of this. Have more specific questions about how the book handled gender? Read it and want to talk about how you felt about it? Comment below, or message me on Twitter/Facebook! |
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