User Profile

Emily Wilde is a scholar from a 19th century Cambridge (UK), but in a world where the Fae are elusive but very much accepted as real. While continuing her work to complete the Encyclopedia of Faeries of the title, she travels to investigate the Fae of Scandinavia, and we follow her tale through her journal entries. What’s clever is an unusual and sensitive portray of Emily, who we see finally able to overcome some social ineptitude and start a slow-burning romance with her dashing academic rival and Cambridge colleague, Wendell, who of course has a mysterious background. My favourite parts were the Fae stories themselves (including the interludes outside the plot - literal stories within the story presented as journal footnotes); there’s nothing particularly new there, everything is very traditional folklore - it’s just very well done. What does jar is that the author clearly has no idea of Cambridge academia (tenure is a concept that is neither Cambridge nor period), although we don’t spend too much time in that setting for it to be the problem it could be. For an expert on the Fae, Emily does also find herself trapped and take odd actions just a little too easily. A lighter read, but with some memorable darkness and some humour, but not enough for me to instantly want to buy the sequel.

A light quick read set in the small American coastal town of Ordinary, a town that acts as the residence of vacationing gods. Because they are on vacation, the gods we meet cannot use their powers and they, although not their powers, can die. Among the few human mortals that are in on the town’s secrets, are the three sisters of the Reed family who form the real-life police department, with the chief, Delany Reed, being our main character. Delany’s duties include transferring the power of any gods who die while on vacation to a new person. Thus, when one of gods does die, we have a murder mystery (a little too mundane as we really don’t have much stake in the outcome) and a search for a new host for the god power (which irks because it’s supposedly urgent but is not treated as so by Delany until it’s critical urgent) taking place against the backdrop of the annual rhubarb festival (too stereotypically cutesy, especially with the time devoted to explaining again and again that Delany dislikes rhubarb). The rest of the story involves a romance with a childhood sweetheart who is obviously not quite who he seems (not resolved here), and that’s actually handled nicely (there’s only one intimate scene) if with naive mooning that doesn’t quite fit the character; this has just the right amount of mystery to get invested. Then there are fun interludes with Death, newly on vacation, providing humour; it’s actually perfectly credible that Death would wear tourist t-shirts, always get served an over-the-top drink etc. etc. There are faults aplenty - not just those mentioned above, but also a serious injury that is flippantly resolved by just getting up out the hospital and saying ouch a few times - however, as the first in nine-book series, I’d still give the benefit of doubt to see where it goes, but not if paying a lot for the sequel.

It went on sale, I bought it, and then I stayed up late reading it, once again caught up in the author’s excellent storycraft. Some of what appeals to a British reader is the evocations of the UK countryside and travel that ring true - even to the point of visits to service stations - but what takes these books to excellent is the complexity of the main character, Dan. Once again, here we have him called in by the Green Man to solve a problem that requires his ‘foot in both worlds’ abilities as a human son of a dryad, abilities that mean he can see and interact with the naiads, slyphs, selkies, hobs etc. that appear throughout. Sometimes we get a great helping of his naivety (of course the big cat isn’t really literally a big cat), other times we him have try to hold his own against a pub full of adversaries with careful words, and then again he also plays a hard man that it’s clear he’s not - yet it works. There is a more obviously vicious human-led threat running through the book than we have seen before, when we mostly had evil folklore creatures, and the moralities involved are also more complex. This perhaps makes for grittier reading but these are absolutely not dark or heavy books; it’s not a spoiler to say all gets resolved in the end. The book is self contained but with a few threads left dangling, perhaps to get picked up in a future episode. I’ll definitely be buying it.

A past hero sets out on quest to investigate a warning of doom and finds judging who and what’s the evil to fight isn’t as easy as it was 20 years ago. The trouble is, not the writing exactly, but that the whole thing doesn’t get going, as we flit around visiting another DnD-inspired character in another location but never with enough time/detail to get any answers. The only exception is rather boring interludes as the main character’s sister seeks to rescue her son from danger. Only just finished the book, and all I really remember enjoying is the malevolent talking sword, with even that not injecting the humour or drama it could because it’s too often just told to ‘shut up’. The world does have potential as we learn of hints of more-interesting political ramifications near the end, but it just didn’t do it here. It is possible the second book improves now we have set up the scene, but I wouldn’t buy it straight off.

Coming from only having read the Whimbrel House series from this author before, I was surprised to find this set in a world with non-human characters. Although at heart this book is a romance, much centres on, if not world-building, at least city building - the hanging city of the title is imaginative, and you feel its solidity right from the diagram at the start of the book. This is the city of the trolls, built down into a crevasse with careful engineering beneath an ‘old world’ bridge. It shelters the trolls from a harsh drought-ridden earth above but also situates them near constant danger from monsters. The trolls themselves are presented with just enough detail to make you believe in the reality of their caste system, which cleverly is not entire martial, and to also see those we meet as individuals. Our human heroine and story teller, Lark, enters the city as a refugee seven years after fleeing from an abusive father and in search of somewhere she can belong, clinging to a fortune told to her years early. Lark too, is well thought out; her unique ability, to instil fear, is used effectively and is the main driver of the story as she falls in love with a troll and inevitably has to prove her loyalty both to her love and to the trolls in general. We have satisfactory pacing and an ending that is believable rather than saccharine. 4.5 stars, only not reaching excellent because it’s a bit light. (Perhaps this author’s special talent is the life she gives to buildings, and that at least is not so different from the house of Whimbrel House after all).