Historical fantasy novel about field research on faeries
With my garden overrun by couch grass and running on hold for now, I was in need of a good audiobook to listen to while I tried to get on top of weeding and this one was the next set book for my fantasy book club.
Image is of “Emily Wild’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries” by Heather Fawcett. The eBook cover is beige with a an open book at the botom, and vines, mushrooms, stars and a key coming out of it.
“Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries” by Heather Fawcett and narrated by Ell Potter and Michael Dodds is a historical fantasy novel set in 1909 in rural Norway. Scholar Emily Wilde has arrived in the remote village of Hrafnsvik to conduct field research for her latest project: an encyclopaedia of faerie lore. Although Emily is a talented academic, she is a bit lacking in people skills and struggles to connect with the locals of Hrafnsvik and make headway on her research. However, when her handsome, charming and infuriating rival Wendell Bambleby arrives in town, she reluctantly joins forces with him to search for the elusive Hidden Ones. It will take all of Emily’s knowledge and Bambleby’s charm to achieve their goals, however the more they work together, the more Emily realises that Bambleby has secrets of his own.
This is a fun story that blends adventure, folklore, romance and academia in the beautiful but bleak winter setting of northern Scandinavia. There are a lot elements in this book, but the plot never feels cluttered and Fawcett weaves them together smoothly. Bambleby in particular was a delightful character and I really liked how his character grew in complexity as the story progressed, and his otherworldly charisma is offset by quaint hobbies and quirks like sewing and darning. I think for people who love fairy tales and folklore, the fantasy elements of this story will be very satisfying.
As enjoyable as the book was overall, I did find Emily’s character a little frustrating and inconsistent at times. While I appreciate that Emily is strongly suggested to be neurodiverse with difficulties anticipating and interpreting social interactions, and a special interest in faeries, I did feel that her ability to interpret and respond to faerie etiquette was a bit at odds with her apparent difficulties with other people. As much as I loved Bambleby, I wasn’t as enamoured with the suggestion that Emily needed Bambleby to form relationships with the locals. For the audiobook, even though I enjoyed Michael Dodds’ narration of Bambleby’s small number of chapters, I found the use of a different narrator a bit jarring.
A light-hearted and well-paced story with plenty to keep you hooked.
As it was time for my next running/gardening audiobook, this came up on a recommendations list and looked suitably low investment and fun.
Image is of “The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches” by Sangu Mandanna. The audiobook cover is of a small, pointed cottage at the end of a pathway on a small yellowish hill. There are trees in the distance and a small purple witch’s hat resting on the second R in “Irregular”.
“The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches” by Sangu Mandanna and narrated by Samara MacLaren is a fantasy romance novel about a young English witch called Mika Moon. Being a witch is a lonely existence, with no family and strict rules about socialising. Spending her time running a streaming channel cosplaying as a witch, Mika’s opportunities to spend time with others like her, or others at all, are extremely limited. However, when she receives a desperate request to help tutor three young witches, Mika’s life is turned upside down and suddenly her isolated life is filled to the brim.
This is a gentle, enjoyable story that draws on the idyll of the English countryside and universal themes of loneliness to create a story of love, acceptance and family. The characters are all incredibly warm and likeable, and there is enough tension in the challenges wrangling the kids, the romance with prickly Jamie and the rather harsh rules around being a witch to keep things interesting. MacLaren was a lovely narrator and I was truly impressed at how well she created distinct voices for the characters, most especially the children.
I think there were only two things that didn’t work so well for me. One was Jamie’s backstory felt a bit drawn out and partly unnecessary; I think plenty of young men can be a bit prickly on the outside and fuzzy on the inside without necessarily having had family trauma. The other was that through this book I learned that I do not like listening to someone narrate a sex scene! I’m not sure if it was the writing or just the cringe factor of having sex-related dialogue being broadcast through my headphones, but I think it is not for me.
An upbeat, wholesome story that I was looking for extra opportunities to listen to.
Classic English novel about class and romance at the turn of the century
I am not sure where I picked this book up from. Absolutely no idea, but it was on my shelf, it was short and it was a prime candidate for my Short Stack Reading Challenge.
Photo is of “A Room with a View” by E. M. Forster. The paperback book is sitting in front of an open window that is looking out on a brick wall with only a sliver of blue sky visible. The cover is of a woman in Edwardian clothing, holding an umbrella while standing in a field of yellow flowers.
“A Room with a View” by E. M. Forster is an Edwardian novel about a young English woman called Lucy who is travelling in Italy with her older cousin and chaperone Charlotte. When checking into their accommodation, there is a mix up with the room which results in a socially awkward interaction with a Mr Emerson and his son George. Lucy, after grappling with how to respond, keeps running into the Emersons while touring Florence. She finds them likeable, but their social status and rumours about what appened to Mr Emerson’s wife prevent her from wanting to get too close. However, unexpected events in Florence and then back home in England completely change the way Lucy sees them and herself.
This novel feels like a slice of life from over a century ago. There’s a refreshing blend of modernism and tradition, and you can really feel Lucy straining against the expectations of her station as a woman of a certain class. There is a degree of independence, but also a requirements that she be chaperoned. I thought there was some interesting commentary about the role of religion in perpetuating stereotypes about people. There were some surprising moments of spontaneity and I think my favourite scene of all was when a group of young men decide to go swimming nude in a pond, and it was such a moment of silly joy.
However, I wasn’t left with a particularly memorable impression of this book. I found some of the scenes to be a bit jarring, particularly a crime that takes place in Florence, and the flow not always consistent. I think if the book had been longer, I would have really struggled to stay engaged.
An easy, light-hearted read that has some fun highs between the lulls.
Cozy queer fantasy romance about coffee and building community
I came across this book via NetGalley, and although I wasn’t accepted to review it, I liked the premise so much that when it came up as a recommendation when I was searching for my next running book, I decided to download it. It was Mardi Gras in Sydney over the weekend, so this is an ideal book to wind down the festivities with.
Image is of “Legends & Lattes” by Travis Baldree. The audiobook cover is designed like a café blackboard with the book’s title, a sword and curlicues designed as though they are written in chalk.
“Legends & Lattes” written and narrated by Travis Baldree is a cozy fantasy romance novel about an Orc called Viv who has quit her life as a mercenary and is opening up something the town of Thune has ever seen before: a coffee shop. With enough capital to get things started, Viv buys a suitable premises and starts ordering in supplies and equipment. Although initially the citizens of Thune are unsure about coffee, Viv slowly builds a community of customers and colleagues including Cal the hob, Thimble the ratkin and Tandri the succubus. However, as the coffee shop grows in popularity, so too does interest from the Madrigal, the local protection racket, and people from Viv’s past. Is Viv’s new life strong enough to withstand disaster?
This was an absolute delight to listen to. I went into this book with no expectations whatsoever and I was utterly charmed. Baldree narrated the book himself and he has an incredible talent for narration. All the character’s voices were unique, consistent and expressive and it was so easy to settle in and let the story wash over me. I’m not sure if it is the relentlessness of living through a pandemic, but the uncomplicated dream of opening up a little café and taking steps to implement that dream was so soothing, I couldn’t get enough. I found myself looking for extra opportunities to listen to the book: going for runs, gardening, folding washing; any excuse.
This story is all about building trust, respectful communication and slow burn romance. It is a character-driven story and Baldree has an aptitude for sensitively and kindly navigating relationships. Some of the characters were just adorable as well, and I couldn’t get enough of Thimble and his baking creations. I also really enjoyed the simple pleasure of Viv working out how best to deliver the drinks and snacks her customers wanted, and the joy of their shared satisfaction. While there wasn’t a huge amount of fantasy in the book, the generic medieval fantasy setting was a perfect blank slate for Baldree’s characters to shine against.
A warm and relaxing story ideal for anyone who likes fantasy, romance and happy endings.
Historical fiction novel about the impact of colonialism on Wiradyuri people and country
Content warning: racism, colonialism, natural disaster, sexual harassment
I have read a few books by this author and I was really excited when her new historical fiction novel was released back in 2021. I picked up a copy from Read on Books in Katoomba while my significant other was running an ultramarathon, but it has been waiting on my shelf since then. I overestimated how many books I could read during the recent Dewey’s 24 Hour Marathon but this was the second in my stack of blue books and I was determined to read it.
Photo of “Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray” by Anita Heiss. The paperback book is in the foreground, and in the background is the Murrumbidgee River, a brown river forking with grassy hills, lots of greenery and a sandy bank on the far side. The cover is also of the Murrumbidgee River with the river reflecting the sky, with cockatoos flying over the water and an embossed design of a lizard in traditional x-ray style.
“Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray” by Anita Heiss is a historical fiction novel set in the 1830s about a young Wiradyuri woman called Wagadhaany who lives in Gundagai and works for the Bradley family. Despite warnings from the local Wiradyuri people, the white settlers ignore warnings about building their town on the Murrumbidgee River floodplains and disaster soon strikes. As the waters rise, Wagadhaany and the Bradleys, who refused to leave, make their way to the roof of the house. Although her father heroically rescues many of the town’s residents, after the flood, the impact of colonialism is as strong as ever. The surviving Bradleys decide to move to Wagga Wagga and insist on taking Wagadhaany with them. Devastated to leave her family and her country, Wagadhaany must find a way to be true to herself and her culture while navigating the expectations of the various white people in the household.
This is a beautifully crafted, utterly readable story about the real and ongoing impact of colonialism. Despite the heroism, ingenuity and talent for droving displayed by the Wiradyuri people, they are slowly dispossessed of and excluded from their land. Wagadhanaay was an wonderful protagonist who grows in spite of adversity and finds her own ways to resist and connect with community. Having read “Talkin’ Up to the White Woman” some time ago, I felt like Heiss did an excellent job depicting the seemingly well-meaning, condescending yet ultimately self-serving early white feminism that ultimately perpetuates white power structures. In a way, this is almost worse than some of the blatant racism Wagadhanaay experiences and witnesses. As a reader, seeing Wagadhanaay’s labour and relationships being exploited in this way is utterly heartbreaking. However, Heiss’ use of research and empathy makes these situations completely believable. I also really enjoyed how she wove through Wiradyuri language throughout the book, and the generosity of including a glossary of Wiradyuri words at the back of the book.
A bittersweet novel that, while unflinching in its depiction of colonisation, radiates warmth through romance, family, community and culture and resilience in the face of adversity.
Romance novels set in the Regency era recently adapted into a TV series
Content warning: spousal rape
Unless you have been living under a rock (no shame if you have!), you will have heard of the hit TV series “Bridgerton“. This lush, colourful TV series reimagines the Regency era of the United Kingdom’s history as racially diverse with characters of colour in leading, powerful roles instead of relegated to servitude or slavery. I was looking for my next running book, and I saw that the book that inspired the series was available as an audiobook. I was really interested to see how the original compared to the adaptation. I didn’t realise at the time that the second season was just about to be released. After binge-watching it (ahem, twice), I had a bit of a family health emergency that involved a lot of driving to and from hospital. With so much stress and time in the car, I decided to listen to the second book as well, so today I’ll review both books.
Image is of “The Duke and I” by Julia Quinn. The audiobook cover is a still from the TV adaptation “Bridgerton” and shows a tall black man looking down at a white woman who is looking at the camera, pouting. Behind them is a lush background with wisteria, a pond and a bridge.
“The Duke and I” by Julia Quinn and narrated by Rosalyn Landor is the first book in the “Bridgerton” series. The story is about Daphne Bridgerton and her eight siblings Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory and Hyacinth who belong to a wealthy family in England in 1813. The Bridgertons are a tight-knit family and known for their parents’ decision to choose names based on letters of the alphabet corresponding with their birthday. As the sister of a viscount, there is a lot of pressure on Daphne to marry well. However, it is her second season out in society and she has yet to secure interest from any eligible suitors. When she manages to fight off the interest of a very ineligible suitor, she has a chance meeting with Simon, an old friend of her brother Anthony who also happens to be an extremely eligible duke. Simon has sworn never to marry, but the two agree to pretend to be courting to keep the women away from Simon and pique the interest of the bachelors in Daphne. However, once they start spending more time together it becomes harder and harder to distinguish between what is pretend and what is real.
Season 1 of the TV series drew heavily on the main elements of this book, and while not identical, the stories certainly followed a very similar path. I think I actually preferred book Daphne in some ways: the focus was less on her beauty and grace, and rather on her personality and gumption. I felt that apart from his race, the duke’s character was very similar in both the original and the adaptation, and considerable time was spent on his backstory and his ongoing anger and shame about the way he was treated as a small boy. One of the features of the TV series is the ensemble cast and we get to see snippets of many of the Bridgertons and other characters as well as the main romance. In comparison, the book had a much narrower focus, and we barely get a glimpse of the other characters at all. I found the writing of the first book reasonably compelling and Quinn goes into a lot more depth when it comes to some of the more compromising situations the characters find themselves in. I enjoyed Landor’s narration and felt that she did an admirable job distinguishing between the different characters with dynamic voices.
Not to be an English purist, but it became swiftly clear to me that the author, although trying to emulate a Jane Austen-esque tone, is herself an American. Using phrases such as “off of” in place of “off”, saying “spit” in both present and past tense and referring to buttocks as “fanny” (which any Australian is going to raise an eyebrow at” did break the illusion for me a little. The audiobook included a little additional epilogue about the characters much later on, and I’m not entirely sure that it added much to the story.
Without trying to give too much of the plot away, I did want to mention a pretty universal criticism of both the book and the TV series. There is a particular scene in the book where one male character is drunk, and one female character takes advantage of this and has sex with him. It is pretty clear from the story that he was likely unable to give consent and had he been sober would not have consented to the sex. The scene in the book was far less ambiguous than the corresponding scene in the TV series (where the male character is not drunk but is certainly reluctant and feels there has been a considerable betrayal of trust) and it left me feeling very uncomfortable that there was not much remorse or condemnation of this act which fell within the definition of spousal rape. Instead, the reader is left with the sense that the ends justify the means. I felt that had the genders been reversed, it would have been completely unacceptable and while the book was published over 20 years ago, it really isn’t an excuse.
Image is of “The Viscount Who Loved Me” by Julia Quinn. The audiobook cover is of a white man holding a croquet mallet next to a south Asian woman throwing a black ball in the air. Behind them are the green lawns and large house of a British estate.
“The Viscount Who Loved Me” by Julia Quinn and narrated by Rosalyn Landor is set in the following year, 1814. This time, the story is about Anthony Bridgerton, a viscount who inherited his father’s title at just 18 years old and notorious rake, who has finally decided to marry. The caveat, however, is that he has decided that the marriage must be business only and that he will absolutely not fall in love. Half-sisters Kate and Edwina Sheffield have come to London to be presented to society in the same year. Dedicated older sister Kate is determined to find her beauty of a younger sister a successful match and Edwina is determined to have Kate’s approval. However, when Edwina catches Anthony’s eye as a sufficiently beautiful and intelligent woman, Kate refuses to consider someone with such a bad reputation as suitable for Edwina, no matter how wealthy and powerful. As Anthony persists in courting Edwina, he and Kate spend more and more time together and soon find that first impressions aren’t always correct.
I found the second book far less engaging. The chemistry between Kate and Anthony was lukewarm at best and what little tension there was resolved very early in the book, with many, many chapters spent on self-realisation rather than any meaningful plot. In fact, the plot was in many ways very similar to the plot of the first book with themes of compromising positions, love growing over time and the man withholding something until he realises his love for the woman. The writing seemed even less inspired, and I lost count of how many times characters “murmured” or “swallowed convulsively”. Quinn goes into absolute minute detail in her scenes, labouring over each character’s thoughts and observations. I felt that she was hamming up the English imitation a little much and wasn’t quite able to capture the humour or irreverence of other American writers writing about England like Connie Willis or Mary Ann Shaffer. Again, there was an extra epilogue in the audiobook that again, didn’t add much.
In contrast, Season 2 of the TV series was absolutely fantastic. Kate was reimagined as Kate Sharma who travels from India with her younger sister to try to find a match in London. The Kate of the TV series, played by Simone Ashley, was haughty, imperious, spirited and stubborn and is as fun as she is frustrating to Anthony. The way culture was woven into the story has attracted a lot of discussion, and questions of authenticity and consistency aside, it certainly added to the richness of the show. Anthony, played by Jonathan Bailey, brought a smouldering intensity to the character that generated white hot sparks against Ashley’s Kate – a testament to his acting skills as he is gay in real life. The pacing of the TV adaptation was exquisite, with the incredible tension between Anthony and Kate maintained throughout the entire series. Similar to the first season, the rest of the characters all have engaging and interactive stories so the romance is not in a vacuum, and I especially enjoyed the Queen’s interactions with Eloise and Edwina.
Although I was looking for something light-hearted during a particularly difficult time and this book certainly met that criteria, I think I will stick to the TV series from now on.
Queer literary romance about identity and growing up
Content warning: sexual themes, reference to abuse
While looking for audiobooks that fit my strict criteria (9 hours or less), I came across this one. I had heard many, many things about this book because it was adapted into a film starring Timothée Chalamet who everyone is constantly talking about for some reason. I was really keen to see the film, but I decided to listen to the book first.
Image is of the audiobook cover of “Call Me By Your Name” by André Aciman. The cover shows a young man resting his head on the shoulder of another man. They are both looking up at a blue sky.
“Call Me By Your Name” by André Aciman and narrated by Armie Hammer is a Bildungsromanabout Elio, a 17 year old Jewish Italian-American boy whose parents have a house in Italy. Every summer, Elio must give up his room to a university student invited by his academic father to stay for 6 weeks. This particular summer, in the mid-1980s, the student invited is Oliver. Eminently cool in his seeming indifference, Elio is surprised to find himself extremely attracted to older Oliver. As Elio fantasises more and more vividly about Oliver, he begins to question what this means for his own sexuality and whether the erotic tension between them is truly unrequited.
This is an exquisitely written novel that is as much a love letter to the male form as it is an exploration of a young man’s transition into adulthood. Aciman’s prose is some of the most beautiful and compelling I have come across in a long time. He captures perfectly that teenage obsessiveness, where you get sucked into the vortex of every single detail of every single interaction. Where the time spent thinking about experiences that have or could happen is almost more intoxicating than the reality. The film was a great adaption, but it is a challenge to put on screen prose that takes place largely in the protagonist’s mind – especially when that prose is so captivating in its apparent raw honesty. This book is full of layers and layers of depth, and I found myself wondering whether the names Elio and Oliver were intentionally chosen because of how many letters they shared.
I think this story, in both book and film format, has become iconic. It inspired Lil Nas X’s song “Montero (Call Me By Your Name)” and Sufjan Steven wrote a song specifically for the film that is just magical. The European summer setting is of itself so enticing, where intellectualism and hedonism intertwine in a sublime way. There are some iconic scenes in this book, and one of my favourites is where Elio’s father speaks to him about his friendship with Oliver. That conversation is such a fantastic template for a parent supporting their child’s sexuality, though I found myself wondering if part of the reason Elio’s father had such great empathy was the suggestion that he himself had experienced something similar.
I also have to say something about the narration, which was done by Hammer who actually played Oliver in the film adaptation. He did a phenomenal job narrating this book; and although the book is told from Elio’s perspective, Hammer’s familiarity with the subject matter brings a noticeable intimacy to an already very intimate book. He has a clipped, deep American voice that was very easy to listen to. However, I cannot laude his performance without mentioning the abuse allegations that have been made about him over the past year. I didn’t know about this at the time I listened to the audiobook or watched the film, and in fact it was only in reading more about the actors that I read about the allegations.
While the accusations levelled against the narrator may dissuade you from listening to the audiobook, I cannot recommend Aciman’s novel enough. I understand that he has written a follow up novel called “Find Me” and I am definitely going to read it.
I am currently on a bit of a fantasy bender in an attempt to get through my to-read shelves, including some which are taken up by fantasy series. In a previous post, I talked about how my book club and I won a fantastic trivia event: well, this was my prize! A series of four books including one signed by the author. I hadn’t read them before, but the covers are all quite beautiful with a reflective, pearlescent effect. They have waiting on my shelf for three years collecting dust and now was the time to read them.
Image is of “Betrothed” by Wanda Wiltshire. The paperback book is resting on top of some shiny purple wings. The cover has a silhouette of a young man and a young woman holding his hand in hers. They are standing on a rock with ocean and mountains behind them. The cover has a pearlescent effect and behind the man is the faintest outline of wings.
“Betrothed” by Wanda Wiltshire is the first book in the urban fantasy young adult romance series of the same name. The story is about a 17 year old girl called Amy who has had a challenging upbringing. Living in Sydney, her delicate health and countless allergies have drastically impacted her life, not to mention the fact that she is adopted. While she has some close friends, school is difficult and she is frequently picked on because of her skin reactions to just about everything. When she starts having incredibly realistic dreams with a voice calling out for someone called Marla, Amy initially doubts that they could be true. However, when the mysterious Leif arrives in person, Amy begins to question exactly who she is.
This is a light-hearted that is about love and identity. Wiltshire doesn’t take herself too seriously, and Amy leaves upbeat Sydney for even more upbeat Faera, and we gradually learn the truth about her heritage. Wiltshire gently explores some of the real difficulties of living with severe allergies, and Amy’s struggles with her health are counterbalanced by the enjoyment she is able to derive from the simplest things like scented baths and lavish food in Faera. Wiltshire introduces some tension with a loose love triangle and intergenerational grudges, and a countdown to Amy’s 18th birthday upon which her future hangs.
While not overtly religious, there are certainly some very traditional ideas about male and female roles including the idea that female faeries are created from a piece of a male faery’s soul which is all very Eve made from Adam’s rib. A lot of the book is spent examining Amy’s feelings and disbelief in relation to her newly discovered identity, and everyone in the human world seems happy to exist as a supporting cast for her. I found the Faera world a bit disconcerting. Wiltshire describes a utopia with no money, nothing wanting and no aging, and I found it hard to wrap my head around a society where everything appears to be predetermined. I felt that although a lot of information and conflict had been introduced early on in the book, the plot plateaued and it didn’t feel like much was happening for the second half. Amy didn’t really undergo much character development, and I would have liked to have seen more depth to her than romantic interest.
Readable enough but not particularly ground-breaking in terms of concept or themes.
Queer romance novel about life, death and what lies between
Content warning: death
I received a copy of this book courtesy of the publisher.
Image is of the eBook cover of “Under the Whispering Door” by TJ Klune. The cover has a house with colourful storeys stacked precariously on top of one another, with a little scooter next to it. In the background is a stylised forest with a silhouette of a large deer.
“Under the Whispering Door” BY TJ Klune is a queer speculative fiction romance novel about a man called Wallace who has died. A lawyer by trade, Wallace’s initial instinct is to try to negotiate with the reaper who has been assigned to him about how to get back to his old life. However, when he finds himself at a strange tea shop run by a man called Hugo, Wallace begins to realise that while his old life was actually not that fulfilling, he is not quite ready to cross over.
Coincidentally, I have been reading a few books that grapple with the afterlife and the question of what lies beyond. This was overall a very enjoyable one. Klune is excellent at a slow-burn romance, and in that respect it is as delicate as the other book of his I’ve read. Wallace is the quintessential corporate lawyer but somehow Klune’s take on his character development feels fresh and original. This book radiates with warmth, and I enjoyed the tenderness that developed between Wallace, Hugo, reaper Mei, Hugo’s grandfather Nelson and, of course, a ghost dog called Apollo. I also liked how Klune set out the many rules of how the crossing over process is supposed to work, and promptly begins breaking them with wild abandon. I am very passionate about improving bad rules, and lots of bad rules are improved in this book.
One of the only things that frustrated me about this book was how frequently the characters say that Mei is an excellent (albeit inexperienced) reaper, when everything in the plot appears to suggest otherwise. I found her maddeningly vague, the few dead people she brought to the teashop seemed extremely unhappy about it and she seemed extremely quick to lose her temper with anyone who didn’t live in the teashop. The budding romance suffered a little for a bit too much tell and not quite enough show. Apart from being a device for adding tension, the reason why Mei was able to touch ghosts but not Hugo was never really explained. In fact there seemed to be a lot of inconsistencies about what ghosts could and couldn’t do, especially when it came to Apollo the dog.
Nevertheless, an enjoyable and sweet story about finding the biggest joy in the smallest pockets of life.
This is the third book in the series, so if you haven’t started it yet check out my reviews of the first and second books. It hasn’t been an easy winter, and I have been a bit distracted from reviewing what with lockdowns etc, but I was so excited for this book pre-ordered this book when it came out at the beginning of August and harangued the poor staff at Dymocks Canberra on release day and they had to open the box for me! I definitely needed a little winter pick-me-up.
Image is of “A Song of Flight” by Juliet Marillier. The paperback book is resting on a timber table next to grey and black feathers and a silver belt buckle. The cover is of a woman in profile in the foreground holding a large knife, gazing across water at a stone tower in the background.
“A Song of Flight” by Juliet Marillier is the third book in the historical fantasy series “The Warrior Bards”. The book begins a short while after the events of the second book, back on Swan Island. Experienced after several successful if challenging missions, Liobhan has been given the new responsibility of helping to train new recruits. Her comrade and lover Dau spends most of his time training recruits on the mainland, and they take what few moments together they can. However, when news arrives that a prince is missing and his bodyguard Galen, Liobhan’s brother, is seriously injured, Liobhan and Dau are dispatched on separate but complementary missions to discover what happened. Meanwhile, Liobhan’s adopted brother Brocc, who is now a father, is having serious difficulties with his wife and queen Eirne in the Otherworld about the increasing presence of the mysterious and dangerous Crow Folk. When he is exiled with a precious burden, Brocc must use all his training and powers to ensure the Crow Folk are not used for evil.
This book had a different tempo than the other two books, and one of the overarching themes in this book is overcoming adversity without violence. Introduced in the earlier books, the Crow Folk make a much bigger appearance in this story and the main characters must untangle myth and culture to get to the heart of why the Crow Folk have come to their land. Whereas the previous book was Liobhan and Dau’s, this time I felt that Brocc’s story really became centre-stage. As I have often said, Marillier is a master of romance so it was really interesting to read her take on a relationship breakdown. Although Brocc has always been accepted completely by his adopted family, Marillier hints tantalisingly at who his biological family may be and what the implications of that may be. Brocc is pushed to his limits in this book and asked how far he would go for the ones he loves.
I enjoyed finally getting to meet the third child of Blackthorn and Grim, Galen, and seeing another side of their family. Blackthorn and Grim make an extended cameo in this book and it was nice to see them in a happy home, regardless of the circumstances. Although not as prominent as the previous book, Liobhan and Dau’s relationship (limited as it is by time, distance and their commitment to Swan Island) is tested in this book. Will they be able to put Swan Island missions before all else, including their love? Although many threads of this story were tied up very tidily, Marillier left enough questions unanswered and doors unclosed to make me wonder whether this truly is the last book, or whether we shall be seeing more of Brocc, Liobhan and Dau in future.
An excellent example of Marillier’s work and a satisfying ending to the trilogy without completely extinguishing the hope that perhaps there may be more to come.
Tinted Edges 