rating: two stars – The Ramblebee

ARC REVIEW: Once & Future by Amy Rose Capetta and Cori McCarthy (2 Stars)

Rating: (2 out of 5)

I’ve been chased my whole life. As a fugitive refugee in the territory controlled by the tyrannical Mercer corporation, I’ve always had to hide who I am. Until I found Excalibur.

Now I’m done hiding.

My name is Ari Helix. I have a magic sword, a cranky wizard, and a revolution to start.

When Ari crash-lands on Old Earth and pulls a magic sword from its ancient resting place, she is revealed to be the newest reincarnation of King Arthur. Then she meets Merlin, who has aged backward over the centuries into a teenager, and together they must break the curse that keeps Arthur coming back. Their quest? Defeat the cruel, oppressive government and bring peace and equality to all humankind.

No pressure. — Goodreads

Once & Future is a sapphic King Arthur retelling in space, and as much as that sounds like a recipe for awesome, I unfortunately didn’t enjoy this half as much as I thought I was going to.

The first half is a fun found family space romp that boasts an incredibly diverse cast. The main character Ari is Arab and queer, and her adoptive family consists of her brother Kay and her two moms. Once & Future‘s iteration of Merlin is as gay as a maypole, while Ari’s love interest Gwen is bi-racial white and Asian. Ari’s merry band of knights includes Lamarack, who is black, genderfluid, and an amputee, Val, who is black and queer, and Jordan, who is asexual, though I strongly disliked the way her asexuality was handled.

Jordan’s asexuality was revealed in a plot twist, setting it apart from all of the other queer orientations, none of which the authors felt the need to reveal through a coming out or otherwise treat as a spoiler. Additionally, Jordan’s asexuality was only revealed to explain that she was no threat to the main f/f relationship, regardless of the fact that asexuality does not equal not having any desire for a relationship, romantic or even sexual, or not having any attraction at all. Not to mention the implication that just because Jordan is asexual, someone else couldn’t desire her. Implying that there is no reason to be jealous of asexual people simply on the basis of their sexual orientation treats asexuals as automatically undesirable, and as an asexual reader I found this portrayal hurtful and upsetting, especially coming from two queer authors.

As delightful as the diverse representation otherwise is, the writing could use some work. The purple prose made this space opera veer into soap opera territory more than once. The pacing is off, especially with regards to the emotional arcs, which felt rushed and unsatisfying. Even the character deaths seemed more like an afterthought, so they didn’t have much of an emotional impact on me.

Despite all of the issues with the writing, I enjoyed the first half of the book well enough. However, a revelation early in the second half almost made me DNF Once & Future. MAJOR SPOILER — Ari finally visits her home planet, Ketch, only to find out that the entire population has been wiped out and she is the last the Ketchan, or Arab, in the universe. Even though one of the authors is part Lebanese, using the genocide of an entire planet populated exclusively by Arab people as a plot twist felt extremely gross to me. — END SPOILER

I decided to keep reading because I wanted to see where the story was going, but the book definitely started deteriorating after the major spoiler, and finishing the last third turned out to be quite a chore. The authors kept injecting unnecessary interpersonal drama, and the weird love triangle and its aftermath were particularly frustrating. And then there was the villain, the Administrator, the evil capitalist overlord of the universe, who unfortunately didn’t work for me at all. He was much too comical to actually be scary.

I’m bummed that I didn’t enjoy this more, especially given the super diverse cast. Unfortunately, the great premise was let down by the writing, but the major spoiler event mentioned above is what really, well, spoiled my enjoyment.

Thank you so much to NetGalley and Little, Brown for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review.

Have you read Once & Future? What are your thoughts? Let’s chat in the comments below!

BOOK REVIEW: Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo (2 Stars)

Rating: (2 out of 5)

Welcome to the world of the Grisha.

Kaz Brekker and his crew of deadly outcasts have just pulled off a heist so daring even they didn’t think they’d survive. But instead of divvying up a fat reward, they’re right back to fighting for their lives.

Double-crossed and badly weakened, the crew is low on resources, allies, and hope. As powerful forces from around the world descend on Ketterdam to root out the secrets of the dangerous drug known as jurda parem, old rivals and new enemies emerge to challenge Kaz’s cunning and test the team’s fragile loyalties.

A war will be waged on the city’s dark and twisting streets – a battle for revenge and redemption that will decide the fate of the Grisha world. (Goodreads)

Oof. I was hoping that Crooked Kingdom would redeem the series in my eyes, but instead it was a major letdown. Truth be told, I almost DNF’ed this, but I ended up pushing through because I wanted to see how the author would handle some of the things I was taking issue with.

I mentioned in my review of Six of Crows that I struggled with the amount of POV characters, though the frequent shifts ultimately made sense to me. The sequel, however, felt cluttered and incoherent with all of the different point of views. Kaz kept coming up with more and more convoluted plans in order for the crew to get their due, and things stopped making sense to me very early on. The eventual execution of the plan was brilliant, but I had to muddle through confusion for too long to be excited about the pay-off.

The author also repeats lines they deem important way too much in this book. It felt like I was repeatedly being hit over the head with a mallet that says “meaningful!”, while the constant repetition actually reduced the impact those lines and conversations had on me.

I was hoping for more explicit queer rep in Crooked Kingdom, and there was some, but I was pretty disappointed that it was all M/M. I’d heard there was queer lady rep in this duology, and there was at best the barest hint of that.

In my review of Six of Crows I said I hated the trope of a bigot being redeemed by falling in love with a member of the persecuted group. For that reason, I was hoping there would be less Matthias/Nina in the sequel, but instead the pairing became more prominent. Personally, this trope makes me a little nauseous, and it didn’t help that Matthias’s chapters were so woe is me. Being a bigot was really hard for him, y’all! But the real kicker was when the author compared unlearning bigotry to overcoming addiction, and finally Matthias saddling Nina with the task of reforming his fellow bigots.

There is also a white character who is tailored to look like a character with East Asian features. He stays that way for a good long while before he is finally changed back, but before his change, the author makes him experience racism on several occasions. I don’t even know what to say here, except: white authors, if you want to explore the racism people of colour experience, maybe don’t do it with a character who is, in essence, wearing yellowface. Especially not when your Big Bad is a Chinese-inspired country.

Overall, Crooked Kingdom left me feeling disappointed and icky. I wish I had been made aware of at least some of these issues prior to reading the duology myself, which is why I felt it important to write this review for other people who prefer to be forewarned. I understand that many people love the Grishaverse books, and while I don’t begrudge anyone their enjoyment, I will be steering clear of this author from now on.

Have you read the Six of Crows duology? (You probably have; I’m pretty late to the party.) What were your thoughts? Let’s chat in the comments below!

ARC REVIEWS: the mermaid’s voice returns in this one by Amanda Lovelace, and Feminine Rising: Voices of Power and Invisibility

Rating: (2 out of 5) The mermaid is known for her siren song, luring bedroom-eyed sailors to their demise. However, beneath these misguided myths are tales of escapism and healing, which Lovelace weaves throughout this empowering collection of poetry, taking you on a journey from the sea to the stars. They tried to silence her … Continue reading “ARC REVIEWS: the mermaid’s voice returns in this one by Amanda Lovelace, and Feminine Rising: Voices of Power and Invisibility”

Rating: (2 out of 5)

The mermaid is known for her siren song, luring bedroom-eyed sailors to their demise. However, beneath these misguided myths are tales of escapism and healing, which Lovelace weaves throughout this empowering collection of poetry, taking you on a journey from the sea to the stars. They tried to silence her once and for all, but the mermaid’s voice returns in this one. (Goodreads)

I was vaguely aware of Amanda Lovelace prior to reading this as the author of the princess saves herself in this one, which I hadn’t read but knew had received some raving reviews, so I thought I couldn’t go wrong. Unfortunately, this poetry collection fell quite short of my expectations.

I don’t begrudge Lovelace her premise (this collection is part of a poetry series called Women Are Some Kind of Magic) or her intention of female empowerment, especially for victims of sexual abuse, but her writing isn’t for me. Her poetry lacks a strong voice and a distinct style. The language is for the most part bland and unevocative, as well as void of stylistic devices. Most of her poems consist of texts with line breaks after every single word while others don’t have line breaks at all; both of these are absolutely valid stylistic choices, however here they don’t seem to serve a clear purpose, and the lack of craft leaves me questioning whether any of these texts are really poetry at all.

My favourite works in this collection were the guest contributions in the fourth part of the book, where Lovelace has curated some real gems, though sadly the comparison highlights the shortcomings in her own writing even more starkly.

Thank you to NetGalley and Andrews McMeel Publishing for providing an eARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

DNF @ ~50%

Are there moments in your life when your femaleness is a source of power or hardship? When does your voice ring its clearest? When have you been silenced?

Feminine Rising: Voices of Power and Invisibility brings together international poets and essayists, both award-winning and emergent, to answer these questions with raw, honest meditations that speak to women of all races, nationalities, and sexual orientations. It is an anthology of unforgettable stories both humorous and frightening, inspirational and sensual, employing traditional poetry and prose alongside exciting experimental forms. Feminine Rising celebrates women’s differences, while embracing the source of their sameness—the unique experience of womanhood. (Goodreads)

Feminine Rising: Voices of Power and Visibility won’t be receiving a rating from me because I decided to put it aside at around the 50% mark, but I still wanted to share some thoughts on it.

The introductions by both of the editors, Andrea Fekete and Lara Lillibridge, as well as the foreword by Dr. Amy Hudock made me suspect the anthology would tend towards some trends in feminism that are anything but intersectional, but they were promising “to give a microphone to those who had never had a chance to have their voices heard”, so I wanted to give Feminine Rising a fair chance.

If you read the summary, you’ll see that something is notably absent from the equation here: disability. If you want to uplift the voices of women who have previously been silenced, it is unacceptable not to include disabled voices, considering disabled women have been some of the most disenfranchised, abused, and unheard, even in feminist circles. Additionally, any feminism that doesn’t even attempt to challenge the gender binary is far from revolutionary, and this anthology reeks of biological essentialism. I have to admit that I don’t know if there are any trans voices present, but I have my doubts, considering how strongly the relationship between womanhood and menstruation or childbearing keeps being drawn.

I think one of the pitfalls of Feminine Rising is that Fekete didn’t seek out a co-editor (or co-editors) who would have been able to cover some of her own blindspots. In her introduction, she details how the anthology came to be, and it sounds like she didn’t actively approach marginalised women for submissions, which is another issue. I also felt like one text in particular written by a white woman used people of colour, and specifically women of colour, as learning experiences. A more diverse editing team would almost certainly have balanced some of these issues, and it’s unfortunate that that doesn’t seem to have been a priority.

There were a select few pieces that stood out from the throng, but overall Feminine Rising: Voices of Power and Visibility fails in what it set out to do.

Thank you to NetGalley and Cynren Press for providing an eARC in exchange for an honest review.