Holy shit, that ending. This was going to be a 3 star review, but the sheer balls of ending it that way — when up until the final ten pages, you think that perhaps things will work out differently — bumps this thriller up a whole star.
The characters are, if universally shallow, at least clearly well-drawn — although none so much as Lemoine, who isn’t burdened by having to be a moral agent. It would be glib to call this ‘Leftist Infighting: The Novel’, and yet it’s so easy to see the well-worn treads of online arguments reflected back up at you from the pages of this book — not just in the fight at the cafe in the beginning, but throughout Mira and Shelley’s power struggles, and the quiet tragedy of Tony’s journalistic ambitions.
More than anything else, this makes me want to reread The Luminaries, to get a greater appreciation of Catton’s work with adult eyes.
Absolutely masterful start to finish. The rabbit-lore of El-Ahrairah and his many adventures was so wonderfully atmospheric, combined with the thought and care that went into the language and inferiority of the rabbits — to say nothing of the plot itself. An absolute classic that I can’t believe I never read before now.
I’m in the unique position of having read an early draft of this book, many years ago, and getting to see it in its final form is so, so special.
I really enjoyed this book — the love story is sweet, the slow pace and atmosphere pitch-perfect. I’m a sucker for Canadians describing the deep impact the natural world has on their protagonists, and Jean’s remote cottage and bustling village life felt so real and vivid. Although the language barrier between Jean and Muirin does result in a slightly awkward ‘lore drop’ chapter towards the end of the book, it’s worth it to see a character otherwise made voiceless (both by the language barrier and her material circumstances) make her side of the story perfectly clear.
This is a perfect balm to a retelling of the same legend I read several years ago, which sided with the Tobias of its own story. Animal brides, and selkies specifically, are a favourite folk tale of mine, and I was so happy to see one with a queer twist; and multiple queer characters, at that! Is the epilogue a tad overdrawn with how happy it is? Perhaps, but with everything the girls went through and the historical setting, I really don’t find myself getting to annoyed at it. They certainly earned their happy ending.
In conclusion: I am proud to be the number one Tobias hater, and it’s memorialised forever in the author’s note. 🐐🦭🦊🌊
A delight of a book, with a magic system I found intriguing without being beaten over the head with lore dumps, and a love story well worth rooting for. I’ll be excited to read the rest of the series!
I think I want to eat this book. Ames and Reese are unlikeable, messy, flawed and beautiful characters, and that ending is wonderful; the loss of ambiguity in one sense, while the ultimate fate of their little family remains undecided for the reader. Fantastic.
DNF at page 70. I was really excited for this book considering how much I enjoyed Priory of the Orange Tree, and it just failed to excite me or grab my interest — way too heavy on the infodumping for me.
A very enjoyable read! This was a Christmas gift and not something I would’ve picked up for myself; I found it to be a real page-turner, and as my BA was in Literature and Scottish History I found the period setting really interesting as well.
The romance is definitely the weakest aspect of the novel, although understandably so as it’s nowhere near being the main focus. I did appreciate the diversity of experiences amongst the characters, and especially the prioritisation of women in what is on paper a very male-centric novel. There is, of course, a deep dramatic irony in reading about characters so devoted to the Jacobite cause and convinced that the next rising will work, in a contemporary Scotland that did not experience that successful rising.