Briar Rose

Perfectly serviceable horror, I'm sure, but the ending was very much not my thing. Spoilers ahead... If you're like me and the main thing that bothers you about the horror genre is its penchant for endings that feel pointless and destroy all the main characters, with evil coming out victorious, then you might want to skip this book.

One of my all-time favorites, “Till We Have Faces” is unique among Lewis's works. It is a dark, complex retelling of the myth of Cupid and Psyche, focusing not on the beautiful Psyche, but rather on her ugly older sister Orual.

Lewis creates a beautifully realized world, a gritty land in which threads of truth are woven into the tapestry of myth. Like his world-building, Lewis's characters have great depth, all being capable of both good and evil. Orual in particular is one of my favorite characters ever: ugly, strong, loving, selfish, courageous... A warrior and a leader, in defiance of the physical unattractiveness that caused her to be deemed “worthless” as a child. She makes big mistakes, and she does great things, and in the end her life is defined by love in ways she didn't even realize. Anyone who doubts Lewis's ability to write well-rounded female characters should meet Orual.

I enjoyed this well enough. The world-building was pretty good; it kept me interested enough to finish, though the ending felt somewhat anti-climactic; and it was nice to have an autistic main character who felt like an actual character, though I wasn't always sure how to feel about her. (I'm not autistic, so can't speak with authority; for a GREAT review by actual autistic people, including author Corinne Duyvis, go to Disability in Kidlit here.)

On the downside, sometimes things seemed to happen just because the author decided they should, and the ending felt extremely anti-climactic.

I will probably read the next book, because the book was well-done enough to make me wonder what might happen next, and by the end, I was starting to care about Clover and her world and her friends.

A thoughtful, eloquent look back at previous mass extinctions, and forward to where we could be headed from here. I thought the scientific concepts were well explained, and despite the heavy subject matter, I enjoyed that there were hints of hope.

I hated this book. Hated hated hated. Yes, there was cheesiness, and the characters were not terribly well-drawn, but that wouldn't have garnered a one-star review for me if not for the ending. I haven't read all the other reviews–there are many–but among those I have read, almost no one has mentioned the thing that bothered me the most about this story.

Keturah gives up everything she's ever wanted–all her dreams, all her plans, all her aspirations–to be with emo, dark-cloak-wearing Lord Death. The story presents this as noble on her part, as right, as the only good decision.

Lord Death gives up nothing for Keturah.

If I ever have daughters, this is not what I want their fairy tales to tell them.

That is all.