If you love someone, you must let them change.
Absolutely my favorite in The Singing Hills Cycle, and it couldn't have come at a better time for me. Just a day before picking it up I was sitting around stuck in my head, thinking about how sometimes we kind of become what we grieve—and that's exactly one of the concepts this novella explores, along with other facets of grief, change, survival, coming back, and moving forward, and, as always, the theme of stories, and of memory being stronger than death.
Where the previous installments were more about going out into the world looking for people's stories, here Cleric Chih returns to the Singing Hills Abbey to reconnect with their neixin Almost Brilliant, their friends, and their home in general. But they've met by the sight of strangers with mammoths at the gates; their mentor is dead; and their best friend is still their friend but also the acting divine, and both of them have changed. I found Chih extremely relatable over the entire story, and at quite a few points found myself really wanting to give them a hug. I'm glad to have more of an insight into them as their own character and not just someone who helps the reader experience others' stories.
I also really hope to see more of the Singing Hills Abbey in the next installments, perhaps under less sad, more normal circumstances. It's such a beautiful place, and even with the grief storylines and the looming danger, I could feel all the kindness and connections permeating it. I also loved seeing so many neixin in one place, each with such a big personality.
Unless you start behaving like a Blessed, nobody will believe you are one.
Literally the only reason I persevered through this entire book was because I needed something with a ship on the cover to finish off the Readdun bingo. Otherwise, I would have absolutely DNF'ed.
Frankly, I think this book was done an enormous disservice by being marketed as an adult fantasy novel. Becaues it's YA. Like, I don't care how many f-bombs are dropped per chapter, it's absolutely 100% YA. The very premise involves a bunch of characters—some of whom are literal teenagers and all of whom are acting like ones—going through a literal rite of passage, basically suspended between their adolescent lives and assuming the adult responsibilities that expect them. If there is a more quintessential young adult experience, I've yet to think of one. Oh, and Dee, the MC, does not actually have the special thing that makes others special, and is forced to live a lie thanks to his lying, cheating father, and he's rebelling against it, and his very first appearance is focused on disobeying his Dad. And the book wants me to believe Dee is checks in his twenties. Hmm. As someone who just recently was on a contemporary YA kick, I can confidently say the only difference between him and the average fictional high school senior is that those fictional seniors are generally more mature and better capable of growth.
The worldbuilding is super simplistic, with the world divided into 12 districts... sorry, provinces who all play exactly one important part each in the empire's structure. There used to be 13 of them, but the 13th district... sorry, province rebelled and was excluded and the empire's now at war with it. On top of that, each province has a special animal associated with it and a unique anime-style hair color. The magic system is incredibly loose and vague and its rules keep changing based on... whatever the author thought would be cool for any given scene, probably. The worldbuilding overall is full of holes and underexplored opportunities. There's one detail that I found interesting: the magic gift that marks the rulers in this setting literally passes from parents to children, as in, once a child gets it the parents doesn't have it anymore and is eventually forced to abdicate in favor of the child. But the number of weird loopholes and inconsistencies about it all, as well as traditions/laws that make little sense when poked at, didn't really let me enjoy it.
If all of the above was just a little bit better edited and marketed correctly, it could make for an entertaining YA romp, actually. One that would still have considerable flaws, though, such as an absent sense of setting. I think by combining modern world details with high fantasy, the author was going for something like Gideon the Ninth, but the result was... not it. Or there's also the romantic plotline that simply made zero sense. Try as I might, I have no idea where those feelings came from.
Again, there absolutely is a decent YA novel hiding somewhere in the folds of this book. Dee's sass is kind of fun, even when obnoxious. He started annoying me pretty early on, but somehow he never stopped being entertaining, so kudos for that. A lot of the other characters have great potentially, if only they got flashed out a little more. The setting has its cool elements, they just needed to be double-checked for consistency. The mystery isn't badly constructed. But I don't feel like there is anything here that would fit the expectations for an adult fantasy mystery, and I'm honestly just... baffled by this marketing choice.
Contains spoilers
“I know it’s scary, Nat, but people change. They’re allowed to change. They’re allowed to try and be better than what they were before. And when we care about them, then we need to support them.”
This is a book I didn’t know I needed. I feel like I’ve become a really angry and unapologetic person lately, what with, you know. *gestures at the state of the world, the news, the geopolitics* Everything. It’s easy to look at people who choose to participate in hurting others and wish them away. But sometimes, people can choose to change, to build a different future without losing accountability of that past, and this book was a good reminder of that. Perhaps the approach it took to the subject was a bit too saccharine at times, what with it being a feel-good cozy fantasy romance first and foremost, but there was a certain depth to it, too, and a good reminder that we are never locked in our choices forever. As long as life goes on, so do the choices.
I have to say one thing that interfered with my enjoyment of the story was lack of clarity about the protagonist’s motivations. It’s over 60% into the book that we finally learn *why* she choose to stop being a villain. I actually think the reveal was done pretty well; when it happens, you instantly see all the breadcrumbs leading up to it, and so much begins to make sense. But at the same time, while I appreciate how it was handled on a technical level, I’m not sure it was the right choice to withhold this specific bit of information like that. Especially since there was another secret/twist tied to it, so that one could have been concealed for just as long and have the same impact when revealed. But the protagonist’s motivation, especially when the protagonist is on a redemption arc, is something that I feel should be made clearer from the start. Because for a long time it felt like Violet mostly decided to switch from evil to good “just because,” or maybe like the author expected the reader to fill in that gap on their own, and it really messed with my immersion.
Outside of that, though, I really enjoyed most aspects of the book, particularly the romance. From the blurb I expected the MC and the LI to slowly change their opinions of each other as they work together to save the town from the blight. But the truth is, they start working on understanding each other before they even know there’s a blight, and that’s what enables them to work together to combat it, which is an approach I loved even more. I also appreciated that each of them has their own redemption arc with a distinct flavor.
Also, I generally enjoyed getting to know the town of Dragon’s Rest and the supporting characters. Pru especially is my favorite, I love what a great bard she makes, and her relationship with Nathaniel, and how determined she was to befriend Violet in the start. If the author decides to turn this into a series, I hope Pru gets her own book. Or at least gets an even more prominent role, if the potential sequel still follows Violet mainly.
Other random things that stuck with me:
I’m really excited to read whatever Emily Krempholtz writes next, and I do hope she revisits this setting, because there’s a lot of series potential here. The story feels even a little incomplete, come to think of it. Not in a glaring sort of way, but there’s definitely stuff that could be explored further!
Contains spoilers
No matter what happens, I’m a stronger man now because of you.
A bit of a mixed bag for me, emotions/vibes-wise, but ultimately, such a good book. I really appreciated the portrayal of being hard of hearing. It was so immersive, really showcasing the day-to-day challenges and frustrations, but also the joys found in moments when accessibility needs are met. I also generally loved the approach to writing someone who’s disabled and has a history of depression. It’s just extremely believable, and I empathized with Ethan so hard. At times, I did feel he came too close to throwing a self-pity party (not an undeserved one, let’s be honest), but he remained so open to letting something good into his life, it really made me root for him. I was happy to see him get out of the dark place he started in.
Clay’s part of the story was perhaps even more compelling to me. He’s such a kind and brave person, and did I mention kind? We all need more Clays around. I’m not often a fan of late bloomer identity discovery narratives, but this one was so thoughtfully and tenderly done. It was great to see this character take a step into the unknown and be so willing to learn about himself and others. I really enjoyed his relationship with his daughter and, almost even more so, the bond he retained with his ex-wife. Also, he seems like a great dog dad (and what an adorable dog he has), that earns him extra points in my book!
Despite the fact that the two POVs switch up fairly consistently every 1-2 chapters throughout the story, I was left with the distinct feeling that roughly the first half of the book, the one where they were on their trip/tour around Australia, was Ethan’s part, and then after that, it was Clay’s part. Interestingly enough, the first half also felt practically like a slow burn, even though not much time has passed at all, and the second was where everything picked up the pace. Which again contributed to that “Ethan’s part, Clay part” feeling, because I think for Ethan, despite the tight timeframe, the whole thing was a gradual climb out of the pit the double betrayal in the beginning left him in. While for Clay, things were somewhat more whirlwind.
I did have some uncertainty around the fact that for Ethan, this romance was basically a rebound. But I feel like the author did a good job acknowledging the potential pitfalls and working with them instead of glossing them over. I also liked how the situation with his ex cheating was handled within the narrative: Michael and Todd weren’t portrayed as wrong for *what* they wanted, but they were held fully responsible for *how* they handled it.
All in all, this is a sensitively handled, well-researched story with lots of much needed kindness in it.
To tell a story is in some part to tell a lie, isn't it?
I've been looking forward to this book so much, but now that I'm done with it, I'm mainly just confused. There were definitely some interesting moments here, and I think as a whole I would have enjoyed it a little bit more if my expectations weren't so high. I definitely enjoyed the first couple of chapters with the medieval/gothic atmosphere and the contrast between all the religious mysticism and the Diviners being just girls. I was intrigued and wanted to know what was next, but I don't think anything in this book ever lived up to the first chapters.
I've seen The Knight and the Moth praised for its worldbuilding. There were a bunch of aspects of it I found intriguing, such as the sprites and the whole concept of Omens (though the logistics of how that concept was executed in practice low-key boggled my mind). Each location had some cool evocative descriptions that drew me in, especially the Fervent Peaks and Bellidine. But I never felt truly immersed, because at every step of the way I just had so many questions about how this was supposed to actually work. The geography of it, the economy, the politics, it never came together. It felt like a rough sketch of a setting, a bunch of cool ideas to be explored, interrogated, and pulled together for real.
I've seen it praised for its prose, to which I say, eh. There were definitely some great descriptions, some fun moments of banter, some good turns of phrase. But the overall effect was clunky and all over the place, because the prose kept swinging back and forth between pseudo-medieval style with all the proper names for various parts of the cathedral or pieces of armor and quippy, snappy modern dialogue. Also, if I see one paragraph ending on an em dash or ellipsis with the conclusion placed on a separate line, I'm going to scream, I swear. It's a cool stylistic device! It can be used to great effect at appropriate times! I love it when it's used in moderation! But multiple times per page? Come on. You've got to be kidding me. Same with all the sentence fragments separated by full stops and a bunch of other small things that are supposed to be the spice, not the bulk of the metaphorical meal.
I've seen people gush about the gargoyle character, saying how precious he was and what a great comic relief he made. I don't disagree per se, but I also never became a fan. I do agree this character was among the better parts of the book. I called that big reveal about him back in the first half of the novel, but the way it was handled was satisfying enough, and he's got some of my favorite bits of dialogue. I've seen people mention that the plot felt like a video game with a set of locations to visit and bosses to fight, and with that, I agree wholeheartedly. This shouldn't be a bad thing in itself; there are books that do great things with novelizing game-like narratives like that. The key, I feel, is to be self-aware about this aspect of the plot and to deliberately play with the related tropes. Which is something I feel The Knight and the Moth attempted at the beginning, what with the MC essentially joining the party mid-quest, but then it was just a straightforward drag of “visit place, fight a boss, get a McGuffin,” and the repetitiveness made it harder and harder for me to actually focus on the events. Like, what did it matter what happened in each hamlet if at the end clearly they'd get the McGuffin and move on to the next one. Also I felt like the structure only made the shaky parts of the worldbuilding stand out more.
I did enjoy the romance quite a bit. The progression from enemies to lovers was fairly quick, but there was a nice overlap between those two states of relationship, and I liked how the two characters challenged each other's assumptions and made each other grow. Also, while I didn't think the final twist was, let us say, elegantly handled, mostly once again due to the worldbuilding it's mired in being so half-baked, I liked how it slightly recontextualized the entire story that came before it. There are definitely a lot of aspects to this story that make me feel it could have been an awesome book after a few more rounds of in-depth editing, from developmental to structural to line editing. As it is now though, idk, it just confuses me. I think Rachel Gillig is not an author for me.