Well, I’ve finally finished the last book on my list. That means it must be time for another post!
The past two months I’ve been reading a lot more than just the ones I’ll list. I’ve been diving back into my mythology studies, so I’ve been focusing on indulging in different collections instead of reading pure novels. However, one anthology I will mention later on just because I’m that excited about it.
And remember, SPOILERS AHEAD!
Within the Sanctuary of Wings by Marie Brennan
As I tweeted whenever I initially finished, “That is how you end a series.”
Brilliant. Methodical. Strategic. Superb.
Now, I did a more extensive summarisation of the entire series in a post where I gushed about book four of the five, if you want more context because I’m not going to provide it here. That said, this book –– the fifth and final –– was a beautiful conclusion to the series.
Yes, it did leave me wanting more just because the characters were so fascinating, the world so intriguing, and the writing so eloquent. However, unlike most series, it left me satisfied. Deeply satisfied.
I love reading series. I prefer them really. However, it is rare when a series is so methodically written, you as a reader are taken on a journey of such eloquent deliberation.
Within the narrative of the series as a whole, Brennan kept subtly revealing traces of an ancient civilisation, which at first indirectly influences the scientific findings of the protagonist, but soon they become the primary focus by book four, In the Labyrinth of Drakes.
Though, what Brennan does so stunningly is, as the reader, you keep thinking book five will be about the discovery of a missing link, which the conclusion of book four hints towards, but instead she takes the supposed dead link of the ancient past and flabbergasts you by having the protagonist find it, or them, alive.
Let me drop the ambiguous vernacular: Isabella is sought out by a man who says he’s found a new, unheard of species of dragon. Obviously, intrigued beyond explanation, Isabella sets out for the distant country of Viduatha (probably something like our India) to scale the Mrtyahaima Mountains (which I’m guessing is the fictional equivalent of the Himalayan Mountains).
When they near the sight of said specimen, Isabella and her travel companions are caught in an avalanche, which injures and separates her from her companions. How does she survive? By being rescued by the very specimens she was trekking to observe: draconians.
These draconians are humanoid creatures –– part dragon, part man –– and they live isolated from the world hidden in the mountains. They are the same draconians of ancient civilisation, and soon Isabella learns a part of her world’s history lost to legend and myth.
The humans, who once lived with the draconians in peace, corrupted and slaughtered their eggs during incubation, and to protect themselves, they fled into hiding. In time, the humans forgot about their existence, believing them instead to be gods of old, while the draconians live in fear dreading the day they are caught.
This is the plot twist I had no idea was coming, but I so wanted. I thought maybe Isabella would indeed find some other lost ruin like in Labyrinth, but I had no idea she’d find the draconians themselves.
It was brilliant. It was wonderful. It was daring, risky, and pushed the bounds of traditional writing in that Brennan dared to go beyond the obvious and do something crazy, unthinkable, and clearly, by my own thoughts, unimaginable to readers. She made her mysterious ancient civilisation alive and flourishing.
It’d be like if someone today discovered Atlantis or El Dorado. But more. It was an entire race, completely and utterly different, but intrinsic to the development of the modern world which Brennan created.
Additionally, she took the political tensions she introduced in book three, the thus ensuing war, and strategically tied all those loose ends together in a bow of practicality and dramatic flare simultaneously. It was wholly believable.
I applaud Brennan. It was an outstanding finish, extraordinary, and I am still in awe at her series as a whole.
I didn’t like it.
No, wait, I shouldn’t say that. Nope, I take that back. I didn’t like it.
Now, as I have said before about other novels, just because I didn’t like it doesn’t mean it wasn’t good. Pleasure derived from entertainment is far too arbitrary, like everything else in this world.
As such, Hiddensee was a brilliant novelisation of German philosophy of the nineteenth century in an ambiguous prose which compelled the mind to search for meaning within the minute, detailed nuances hidden amongst the choppy phrases and paragraphs.
Hiddensee was meant to be a retelling of The Nutcracker, and while it was, in theory, I find the actual fairy tale which it eludes a mere fragment within the greater story. It wasn’t until the final 50 pages Maguire introduces the seeds of his origin story. Of course, this is entirely acceptable, though it was much to my dismay.
After about page 20, when I was utterly and completely confused by the diction and syntax Maguire was utilizing, I had to rethinking what I was reading entirely just to finish the book. (I hate not finishing things, especially books. It just feels wrong. That said, I almost did not finish this book just because it was too avant-garde for me.)
Whenever I viewed the book as German philosophy rewritten as prose, it made more sense and I started to enjoy it. Now, I’m definitely not a fan of Nietzsche nor Nihilism, which is rampant within the narrative and still made my reading difficult, but I managed. (I much prefer to make seemingly intelligent quips with my attorney-philosophy-major friend about their bleak ontology.)
I so wanted to like this book, to enjoy it. I picked it off the library shelf because I so love Wicked, but I think now I remember why I never read that novel and only loved the musical instead. Regardless, Maguire is a provoking author. I just didn’t enjoy it as much as I hoped I would.
This stand-alone novel completely caught me off guard, and I do love a well-executed surprise.
Going in, I had no idea what to expect. I grabbed this off the shelf because the cover was pretty, and the brief description on the inside cover drew me in immediately. I was sold. Needless to say, the story of this novel took me on a wonderful journey of enchantment, adventure, and even had a bit of romance too.
Uprooted is the story about a young girl, Agnieszka, who grows up in a valley in the shadow of a looming, evil Wood which threatens their existence. However, they are under the guard and protection of the Dragon, a powerful wizard who lords over the valley.
Every ten years he takes a young girl of seventeen, but no one knows why. The year she is to be presented with the others, Agnieszka and everyone else believes her friend, the most beautiful and noble of them all, will be chosen. Instead, it is her the Dragon picks.
Whisked away immediately, she finds herself living alone with this irritable, prickly, peculiar but kind wizard. Almost as suddenly, she learns she too has magic, and the Dragon begins to train her how to use her gifts.
Of course, the Wood begins attacking the people of the valley, trying to ensnare the Dragon for its own corrupted use. Additionally, the prince seeks the Dragon’s aide in rescuing his lost mother from the Wood, and soon all its malice is unleashed upon the kingdom. Agnieszka finds herself in the middle of this war between tree and man, and she helps uncover the secrets of the Wood long forgotten to save her people and the kingdom.
What I loved most about Uprooted was it just never stopped moving. The plot carries you along in the story like the fairy tales of old, whose traces are woven throughout the book. While it isn’t necessarily character driven, in that it delves deeply within their psyche, the players of this drama are not at all shallow. Their traits and quirks are noticeable, and make them stand off the page as though they stood before you reciting their adventures.
Just like the magic of the old world, there is an enchanting charm which entices your mind as you read. It is simply enjoyable and a quick refreshing read which gives you all the nuances of high fantasy literature without weighing you down in a heavy mythopedia. I highly recommend it if you just want to read something fun.
Celtic Mythology by Philip Freeman
This charming anthology of Celtic folklore and myths was a delightful surprise to me. This collection itself is not even a year old, and for someone like me who thrives off reading the legends of old, I have been looking for a book quite like this.
Philip Freeman is a professor of the classics and Celtic mythology of 20 years, and has meticulously compiled an introductory book for anyone, no matter their level of knowledge on the subject, about Celtic mythology.
For me, Celtic mythology has always been elusive. There hasn’t been much content accessible to the plebian, only the scholar. As such, this work gives those who have not pursued such academic studies a vital resource for studying Celtic mythology on a fundamental level. I treasure this book, and thank Professor Freeman for taking the time to compile such a gem.
Honourable Mention: The Lay of Aotrou and Itroun an epic poem by J. R. R. Tolkien
Returning Home
What’s on My Shelf: March-April
Embracing Our Darkness
WOMS: A Grave Robbery
