Nettle and Bone, by T. Kingfisher  

A sort-of princess, who is not quite a nun, builds a dog from bones to save her sister from an evil prince, because yes, this is simply the way things are done around here.

Picking up a delightful cast on route—an acerbic necromancer, a demon chicken, a bumbling fairy godmother and a stoical knight—our unlikely heroes must defeat a spell holding the kingdom in its power, and kill an evil prince before his heir’s christening. As you do.

“Magic never seemed to be much use at doing the things you wanted done in a reasonable time frame.” ― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

The novel is frankly adorable and was received with great excitement, winning the 2023 Hugo Award for Best Novel and being nominated for the 2023 Locus Award for Best Fantasy Novel, and the Nebula Award for Best Novel of 2022. The tone is wry, homely, and fun, and the fairytale setting is extravagant with world-building, taking us from ‘the blistered lands’ through medieval countryside to a goblin market, and finally the labyrinth of crypts below the palace.

This is a simple quest narrative, well told, and boasting a delightful cast of loveable characters. If you’re looking for an easy, pacy, feel-good read, this is it. Sure, there’s a dark side to the political fairytale marriage where the prince is not charming and the princesses are replaceable, but stick with your friends and everything will come right in the end. With real life so full of tragedy, a bit of ‘happily ever after’ is a welcome relief.

If you’ve already read Nettle and Bone, let me know what you thought in the comments, and as always, don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates. 

Buy on kindle £4.68 

Paperback from AbeBooks £7.43

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Babel, or the Necessity of Violence by R.F. Kuang

In 1830’s plague-ridden Canton, a peasant boy with a mysterious ‘gift’, is whisked away from certain death. His saviour and patron, an imperious Oxford lecturer, brings him to England and oversees the boy’s induction into the mysterious art of silverwork.

The boy, now a young man named Robin Swift, is admitted into Oxford University’s Royal Institute of Translation, or as the students and teachers call it, “Babel”. Babel is no ordinary language school however. It is first and foremost a silverwork laboratory, producing enchanted silver bars which power everything from factory machinery, to warships. This makes Babel vital to Britain’s industrial prowess and a crucial lynchpin her colonial machinations.

“Translation means doing violence upon the original, it means warping and distorting it for foreign, unintended eyes. So, where does that leave us? How can we conclude except by acknowledging that an act of translation is always an act of betrayal?” ― R.F. Kuang, Babel

Robin quickly falls in love; with Oxford, with academia, and with the other three other members of his cohort—all brilliant, young outsiders like himself. It isn’t long though, before putting his talent, and his mother tongue, to the service of the British Empire, starts to weigh on him.

Starting out as a sort of Dickensian Hogwarts, the novel shifts gears into a story of rebellion and resistance, reimagining Britain at the height of her colonial power, and the circumstances leading up to the opium wars. It is drowning in accolades, debuting at number one on The New York Times Best Seller list, and winning Blackwell’s Books of the Year for Fiction and the Nebula Award for Best Novel.

It is a big, ambitious book; a bellowing rebuke to colonial violence and the white elites who profit to this day, amidst handwringing and lukewarm protestations of impotence.

The book asks poignant questions about when—and how much—violence is acceptable as a form of protest, and whether change is even possible in the face of massive imbalances of power. As with most historical fantasy, a dark mirror is clearly being held up to the present, inviting us to question where our loyalties lie and how far we would be prepared to go to prevent an abominable act of injustice.

If I were nitpicking, I’d say there were some pacing issues. At times the story shuffles along too slowly and at others, skips important character-developing scenes, to catch you up hurriedly afterwards. The book is long and evidently had too much to pack in. 

It deserves your patience. The world is seductive and the shift from ‘wizarding campus novel’ to resistance lit, is deftly handled. As a bonus, language nerds will love that the ‘magic’ is drawn from etymology; harnessing the power of meanings ‘lost in translation’ across languages sharing common roots. 

Language in Babel, is power—literally the power to bend material reality to its whim—and in this spirit perhaps the novel itself is a weapon; a reminder that certain fights are ongoing, and that sometimes, violence is indeed a necessity.

 If you’ve already read Babel, or the Necessity of Violence, let me know what you thought in the comments, and as always, don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates. 

Buy on kindle £0.99 

Paperback from WH Smiths £7.99

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Lote by Shola von Reinhold 

As laconically seductive as the 1920’s which so inspire its heroine, Lote is a tantalising work of black, queer, speculative fiction. Appropriately genre-bending in its style, it combines the page-turning appeal of an investigative thriller, with the nonchalant grace of a period piece set in the modern day. 

Like Europeans in a Henry James, we would be creatures of genteel penury, full of education, artifice, a little vampiric, duping all the dull rich people around us. Except we were Black, except were poor, except we were basically self-taught (by their standards), except we were infinitely more subtle and fabulous, as far as we were concerned.

Mathilda is an escape artist. She has many names and specialises in her own reinvention in the pursuit of a life of beauty and glamour. An ‘Arcadian’, she is much more interested in the past than the present, and spellbound by her ‘fixations’—flashes of inspiration connecting her to figures from the past—she gets herself accepted onto a prestigious, if strange and secretive, residency in order to continue her ‘research’ into their lives.

Dripping with baroque prose, charming characters, and historical references to forgotten Black modernist figures, the book is as decadent as a goblet of foamy pink champagne in a dining hall draped in candlelight. It absolutely delights in its own opulence, channeling all the energy and frivolity of the Bright Young Things, to waltz you through a mystery that asks whether certain historical truths are forgotten, or mislaid, on purpose.

LOTE, is Scottish author, Shola von Reinhold‘s debut novel, and won the Republic of Consciousness Prize and the James Tait Memorial Prize in 2021. If you’ve already read it, let me know what you thought in the comments, and as always, don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates. 

Buy on kindle £3.99 

Paperback from World of Books £7.90

Follow the author @socialmedea__

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Second Place by Rachel Cusk

An intimate work of feminist realism that doesn’t pull its punches. Told in the form of letters from its middle-aged, female narrator, M, it considers the terrible savagery of the human ego, and the atrocities it commits against itself and those it is closest to.

Why do we live so painfully in our fictions? Why do we suffer so, from the things we ourselves have invented?

M lives a secluded life with her second husband out on the swamp where he grew up. Scarred by the world and its brutality, she is nevertheless unwilling to detach completely, and so to nurture the sense she craves of being ‘connected’ to the art world, she invites artists in residence into her sanctuary. These visitors stay in ‘the second place’, a neighbouring cottage on their land. When she builds up the courage to invite an artist whose work struck her powerfully at a low point in her life, the impact of his presence unleashes unexpected violences, and forces her to confront some of her own. 

The novel considers the flimsy constructs we call identity, and how we piece together our personal narratives from the detritus of our own fantasies painted over by the assumptions and criticisms of others. It records the intricacies of M’s subjectivity with Tolstoyan exactitude, allowing her generosity and strength of spirit to exist alongside the petty, self-indulgent egoisms that underlie her desperate need to be seen.

The secondary characters too, sway unsettlingly between painfully sympathetic and revoltingly absurd, and the little cast assembled in the oppressive environs of the swamp, provide the raw materials for an unflinching psychodrama with notes of Shakespearean tragicomedy.

Published in 2021, The novel was longlisted for the 2021 Booker Prize and shortlisted for the Governor General’s Award for English-language fiction. It’s a potent, powerful text, that catches and holds our gaze in its canvas, and dares us to look away.

If you’ve already read it, let me know what you thought in the comments, and as always, don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates. 

Buy on kindle £5.99 

Paperback from World of Books £10.89

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The Once and Future Witches, by Alix E. Harrow

An oppressive shadowy force weighs on the inhabitants of New Salem and it’s down to three estranged sisters to rally the voices of dissent and arm themselves for a fightback.

Somewhere between historical fantasy, fairytale, and a feminist call to arms, this is a charming story of magic, rebellion and sisterhood, with a host of wonderful characters, and plenty of action to keep you entertained.

Proper witching is just a conversation with that red heartbeat, which only ever takes three things: the will to listen to it, the words to speak with it, and the way to let it into the world. The will, the words, the way…

The town of New Salem is an echo of 1600’s America, complete with suffragettes and racial segregation, but the characters are made for today’s battles; the fight for class, race, gender and sexual equality. Fittingly, the folklore which forms the magical collective consciousness of the novel – the nursery rhymes, sayings and children’s stories – is all invitingly familiar, teasing us with the promise of magic at our own finger tips. The world is not our world, but we are encouraged to feel part of the secretive pact of information sharing, solidarity and insurgency, as the Eastwood sisters learn to extend their circles of trust, past the point where it is comfortable, in order to harness the strength they need to defeat their foe in the book’s tragically stirring finale.

The novel is Hugo nominated Author, Alix E Harrow’s second novel, and it won the British Fantasy Award’s Robert Holdstock Award for Best Fantasy Novel in 2021. For those of you who are suckers for a bit of magic, this will definitely inspire you to get in touch with your inner witch, and maybe stir up some mayhem while you’re at it.

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Buy on kindle £4.99 

Paperback from BUUKs £6.99 

Follow the author @AlixEHarrow

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Speculative Reader’s Best of 2022

I read lots of great books this year, but have whittled it down to my favourite five. If you have any recommendations for books I should read in 2023, I’d love to hear them, so please drop me a note in the comments, and as always, don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates. 

My top five reads from 2022, in no particular order…

 

Best space opera: A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine 

Overflowing with wonderful characters, a charming love story, elegantly rendered intergalactic politics and some fascinating philosophical questions to boot, this is an exciting, glorious book and you should read it.



 

 

Best sci-fi:  This Is How You Lose The Time War, by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

I can’t stop recommending this to everyone who’ll listen. A heart-wrenching story of love, friendship, and solidarity, staged against an ideological cold war for the fate of the universe. I doubt you’ve read anything like it before and you should absolutely read it now.



Best historical fantasy: She Became The Sun, by Shelley Parker-Chan

An epic story of human will, set in 1300’s China. The heroine is irresistible, the world achingly real and the story of a peasant monk’s mission to rewrite their own fate is and change the world is utterly captivating, you won’t be able to put it down.


 

 

Best speculative detective: The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, by Stuart Turton

If you’re a sucker for a classic whodunnit and you’re down for some speculative genre-bending, you will absolutely adore this book. Everyone I know who’s read it has raved about it, so if you’re looking for something gripping and eminently readable, get ready to be charmed.



Best novella: Agua Viva, by Clarice Lispector

An absolute flying gut punch of a book. To say it’s a novella is slightly misleading, but I don’t know what else to call it. It’s an immersive experience in which you enter the current of another’s mind; a mind painfully astute, exquisitely poetic, and utterly consuming. Brace yourself, breathe deep and dive in.



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The long way to a small angry planet by Becky Chambers

This debut novel, originally self-published via a kickstarter campaign, has since become a critically acclaimed series, totalling four novels and a short story.

Unusual in its tone and pacing, the story follows the multi-species crew of The Wayfarer, a  tunnelling ship, contracted to build wormholes in space. Books in this genre usually focus on intergalactic politics, space exploration and battles, but this one centres itself on the day to day lives of its characters. It is a small and wholesome story, refreshingly cheerful—more a feel-good soap opera that happens to be set in space, than a traditional space opera.

“All you can do, Rosemary – all any of us can do – is work to be something positive instead. That is a choice that every sapient must make every day of their life. The universe is what we make of it. It’s up to you to decide what part you will play.”

The book meanders through a series of planetary stops and chance meetings which are designed to develop the characters and the world, rather than to push the plot forward. Key moments of tension simply happen, and then pass by, the repercussions reassuringly small scale, as the crew (and therefore the reader) get to know each other and their world a little better.

There are some lovely depictions of friendship and acceptance, and the alien species, with their physiognomical and cultural differences, are well conceived and crafted. The author makes full use of the opportunities she creates to muse on our earthly history and customs, with everything from nuclear families, war, property and gender, coming gently and generously under the microscope.

This is a great, easy read, with lovingly painted characters and plenty of heart, and as a bonus, if you like it, there’s four more to get stuck into.

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Buy on kindle £4.99 

Paperback from Awesome Books £4.59 

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The End of Men by Christina Sweeney-Baird 

There have been many pandemic books written since COVID, and this is one of them. Drawing on the themes of terror, political incompetence and social collapse, End of Men does something a little different with this device, using it to poke around in some ’what-ifs’ of current gender politics.

The concept is simple, a new deadly disease appears out of nowhere and rampages through the population, but it only affects men. Women can carry the disease, but only men die, and die they do in droves. The story is told from the perspectives of different women; politicians, medical professionals, researchers, journalists, daughters, mothers and wives, and it isn’t afraid to get it hands dirty with some pretty sharp-toothed social commentary.

“I have never felt so powerful. This must be what men used to feel like. My mere physical presence is enough to terrify someone into running.”

With the recent experiences of COVID still fresh in our minds, the stories cut close to the bone, giving heart-breaking accounts of loss and the terrifying inertia of being trapped indoors not knowing when, or if, it will ever be over. There are some compelling characters including ‘good’ men and ‘bad’ women to give balance, and for the most part, things tick along as you might expect them to. The book’s pace is solid and the world is extremely convincing, but there’s not much to surprise or many new insights to be gleaned, either about the role of women in society, or our handling of major health catastrophes.

All in all, a decent read, but nothing to get overly excited about. If you’re curious about the premise, it’s worth a look, and if you’re nostalgic for the gut-gripping terror that you might lose all your loved ones while trapped alone in quarantine, you’re in for a treat.

If you’ve read it, let me know what you thought in the comments, and as always, don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates. 

Buy on kindle £5.49 

Paperback from World of books £4.79

Follow the author on twitter @ChristinaRoseSB

The Water Cure, by Sophie Mackintosh

Three sisters live an antiquated, disconnected existence on a remote island. Their lives are ruled over by their autocratic parents, who mete out medieval punishments and force them to compete in bizarre rituals of sufferance.

The girls are introduced to us one by one, their narratives unfolding, sad and lonely as their large, dilapidated home; all empty rooms and creaking floorboards. It is unclear why the family has secluded itself on this remote spot and what exactly they have to fear from the ‘toxic’ mainland and its men, but unease lurks like sea mist in the mind of the reader as the sisters piece their parents’ hints and their own memories together in an attempt to understand what is true.

Then three male castaways wash up on their lonely shore and the spell their parents have worked so hard to craft, begins to unravel.

“It will always be a woman who saves us, we know that now. The protections of men are only ever flimsy and self-serving.” The Water Cure

The story is heavy with female longing, with the desperation for salvation through love and the giving over of oneself to something bigger. It is a quiet, potent story, one of those incisive pieces of speculative fiction that speaks of something too painfully real, too true, for realism.

Let me know what you thought of The Water Cure in the comments, and don’t forget to sign up for future blog updates.

Buy on kindle £3.99

Buy from Waterstones £8.99

Follow the author at @fairfairisles

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