This has been in my TBR pile for an embarrassingly long time. More than five years, in fact. I'm not sure why it never made it to the top except that it never seemed quite the right time.
I'm glad it finally jumped up and down enough to claim my attention. Creepy body horror, old school witch stories, body horror, magic that's tied in with land and tradition and ancient rules about power... all the best stuff.
If you like your magic dark and earthy and your faerie stories wild and dangerous, this one will be right up your alley.
I had mixed feelings about this book. The use of disabled people as a story device made me uncomfortable, especially the way they are made out to be so two-dimensional; childlike and bright and full of wonder, instead of being shown to be complex people. A great book for a book club, to generate discussion and debate.
I'm not usually a Laurell K. Hamilton fan, but I'm always a sucker for a supernatural / detective mashup. I've fallen in love with Bobby Dollar, Sandman Slim, Harry Dresden, October Daye, Peter Grant, and now Zaniel Havelock.
Great world building, great story, great writing (and thank god, complete lack of angsty romance or love triangle bullshit).
More please!
So close, but it didn't quite cross into ‘great' territory for me.
I loved the setup of the different magical languages, but the mashup of mysterious family history with teen drama didn't quite do it for me. The ending seemed very rushed and confused, with a little too much Agatha-All-Along for me to really believe the suddenly revealed motivations of the characters. After the second or third switcheroo I gave up trying to keep track and just went with it.
Things I did love: the descriptions of music, particularly when used as a language. The gorgeous cover. The incredible magical places that we saw (fleeting) glimpses of - the club, the curio shop.
Still a solid read.
I enjoyed the first half of this book, but it lost me in the second.
There's metaphor, and then there's beating your readers over the head with your (paper-thin) allegory.
Three stars instead of two purely for the vicarious enjoyment I got from The Mother's aggression towards the mental load and domestic expectations.