Author: Tirzah Price

In this dual timeline, multi-POV novel, Emily St. John Mandel tells the story of how life as we know it falls apart in the wake of a deadly pandemic that kills 90% of the population in mere weeks, and what life looks like twenty years after this collapse. At the center of the story is Kirsten, who was a young girl acting in a production of King Lear with the famed Arthur Leander on the night the virus broke out. Years later, she’s part of the Traveling Symphony, a ragtag group of actors and musicians who travel through what used to be Michigan, performing at every stop and reminding what remains of humanity that “survival is insufficient.” But when they return to a town they’ve visited before, they find it’s been changed by a self-proclaimed prophet who has a dark vision for the future, and the past and present collide.

I loved everything about this book, from its eerie premise to the gorgeous, lyrical writing, and I especially loved how everything and everyone is connected. The connections are sometimes expected, sometimes surprising, often fleeting, but always impactful. The author does a great job of exploring communities and how individuals can influence a community, exploring the symphony, the Prophet’s followers, and other groups that crop up in unlikely places: gas stations, airports, and on the road.

Being a Michigander, I particularly liked the exploration of the various settings and the descriptions of how settlements re-establish themselves across the landscape. Michigan is a unique setting in that it’s a peninsula surrounded by enormous lakes—in some ways it’s sheltered, in some ways it’s dangerous. The author created a convincing setting that was as unsettling as the premise.

Finally, without giving away too much, what really stuck with me, especially on my second read, was the questions about how a major collective trauma like this affects people. For some, the effect is very external, while for others it’s much more internal. Children who don’t remember much about the before times or never experienced them have a hard time bridging the gulf between adults who know what they’ve lost—not just people, but a way of life and a way of understanding their world, and together they must all create a new one. That was the most powerful part of the novel, and one that I didn’t likely fully appreciate on my first read in 2015, but certainly did when I re-read the book earlier this year.

Set in Lucille years before the events of Pet, this novel follows Bitter, Jam’s mother, as a teen. Bitter has had a rough upbringing, but she’s so grateful that she’s found herself at Eucalyptus, a school for teens gifted in the arts. Eucalyptus is a safe haven against the chaos of Lucille, with its constant protests and rampant corruption. And as Bitter’s time as a student comes to an end, she knows she’d rather stay within her safe walls as a teacher than venture out, even if her friends and classmates are tempted by Assata, the rebel group fighting against corruption. But when Bitter’s secret talent for bringing her paintings to life with a drop of her own blood releases strange creatures on her world, Bitter will have to face the conflict head-on.

First off, Emezi is an incredible writer. I was in awe of their turns of phrase, the beautiful way they built this fictional world in spare, striking language, and how they deftly created so many interesting and multi-dimensional characters. They write with a skill that looks easy, so you know it must be well-honed. I loved that we saw the dystopian side to the utopian Lucille that they presented in Pet, and they managed to maintain that allegorical feel of the story while also grounding it in very real details and moments. This is a book about the personal cost of fighting against injustice, and how scary and overwhelming and hopeless it can feel. But it’s also a book that reminds us of the responsibility we have to each other, tying back to their use of Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem “Paul Robeson” in Pet, and that despite that hurt, fear, and shame, it’s important to build community and look out for one another.

This is yet another powerful novel brimming with diverse characters and you can really feel the acceptance and love in this story, despite the hate and fear the characters must face. It’s a reminder that love thrives, even in dark times, but you have to be brave enough to cultivate it.

In a fantasy world where dragons and their cousins quigutl roam the land, Tess Dombegh is a disappointment to her family. Despite all of her mistakes, she’s determined to make one thing right and help her twin sister Jeanne find a noble husband and marry well. She manages to do just that, but when her actions ruin Jeanne’s wedding, Tess finds herself at a crossroads. Her family is determined to send her to a convent, but Tess doesn’t want to go—she’d rather run away. So she does just that, and sets out for the open road with a vague direction in mind. Along the way, she reunites with an old friend, encounters danger, intrigues of the natural world, and some of the world’s most mysterious secrets all the while running from her past. But it’s just as she’s about to discover an exciting future she never could have imagined that she realizes her painful history must be faced head on.

What I love about this book is that story-wise, it’s the inverse of most fantasy novels. Many of the fantasy titles (YA or otherwise) that you find on shelves are about a high-concept premise first, and then character growth or a character’s personal journey is secondary. This book is all about lovable, messy, misguided Tess who doesn’t believe that she’s worthy of love or a second chance after she makes a mistake, and her self-loathing is palpable by the time the book starts. She’s also surrounded by toxic people who seem more interested in punishing her than showing her even an ounce of compassion, so it’s no surprise she’s miserable and makes the ruinous choices she soon regrets.

But once she strikes out on her own, Tess begins to center. Her sense of humor comes out, and so does her compassion, curiosity, and her fears. While the reader doesn’t know all of the details of her past, you can’t help but love her as she slowly finds her path and purpose on the road. Through a series of misadventures, Tess encounters a variety of people who give her perspective, show her kindness, and offer her a chance at redemption. They also challenge her worldview and all that she was taught about herself and her nature, opening her eyes to the possibility that she’s not broken or bad or ruined, but someone with a bright future ahead of her. The plot, which feels episodic in the first half, starts to come together in an exciting, high-stakes way that sets up the sequel, leaving you breathless to see where Tess will end up!

I read this book for the first time when it released in 2018, and then again recently in anticipation of the release of the sequel, In the Serpent’s Wake. I loved it both times, and in reading the sequel it’s exciting to see all of the clues and connections Hartman planted in Tess for an exciting and fulfilling sequel.

Note: This duology is a companion to Rachel Hartman’s Seraphina duology (Seraphina and Shadow Scale) and it takes place a few years after the end of the events in Shadow Scale. While I love and highly recommend those books, you don’t have to read them in order to understand what’s going on in Tess’s world, but there are some spoilers for Seraphina’s story if you pick up Tess first!

Dr. Mona Hanna-Attisha is a pediatrician who was working in Flint in 2015, running a pediatric internship program for new doctors, and serving her patients, many of whom lived in poverty, in a holistic, community-based way. When her patients started asking her if the water in Flint was safe to drink, her first instinct was to say, “Of course!” After all, if it wasn’t safe, even despite the rumors to the contrary, the city officials would say something, right? Wrong. Once the lead poisoning was brought to her attention, she saw the devastating effects it had on her youngest patients and she immediately sprang into action, relying on her colleagues, patients, community leaders, and various governmental officials who were also concerned but were being ignored by the higher-ups to not only gather the data, but put together an IRB-approved study in record time that showed definitively that Flint’s water was being poisoned, and force the state and city government to take action.

This was at times a really harrowing read, because it becomes clear very quickly that Dr. Hanna-Attisha’s trust in the authorities and scientists who work to keep public drinking water safe was completely misplaced—although through no fault of her own. Who among us wants to believe that those in power are willingly ignoring the signs that the drinking water isn’t safe? She talks about how it was hard for her to believe at first, but when faced the truth, she was physically sick and couldn’t just sit by. But it wasn’t as simple as calling up public services and telling them her patients had lead poisoning…she had to prove the poisoning was coming from the water, and then she had to prove that Flint’s recent changes to the water supply were at fault. I’m impressed with how she made what would normally be a boring process of filing a lot of paperwork to get her study off the ground sound riveting, but that’s in part because it was absolutely urgent—kid’s lives were in imminent danger.

Aside from the high stakes recounting of her realization that the water was being poisoned to successfully exposing the crisis, I really enjoyed Dr. Hanna-Attisha’s contemplation of what we owe each other, how we ought to look after our neighbors, and how an alarming lack of empathy or care can lead to a devastating loss of life. She fought hard, not just to expose the crisis, but to hold those who looked away accountable for their part, and she succeeded, to an extent. But she also grieves for the families and kids who were affected, whose lives are forever changed by the malfeasance of those in charge of contaminating Flint’s water supply, and that’s sometimes difficult to read.

Overall, this is a moving book that’s part science, part environmental and public health exposé, and part examination about what it means to be community-minded. I highly recommend it!

Shiori is the princess of Kiata, the youngest daughter of the emperor. She’s been betrothed to a young man from the north for as long as she can remember and she’s not happy about it: She’d rather stay close to her beloved brothers, and find her own future. So on the day of her betrothal ceremony, she runs away and falls into a lake, where she happens to meet a dragon. Dragons are rare and magic is taboo in Kiata, but Shiori can’t help her excitement at befriending a dragon, or the secret magic inside her. And it’s just as well, because not long after she discovers that her stepmother is hiding her own magic, and she and her brothers are cursed. While her brothers transform into cranes each day, Shiori is left with a bowl over her head and the loss of her voice, and she’s banished from her home. If she wants to break her stepmother’s curse, she’ll have to complete a series of impossible tasks, all while trying to stay alive.

I loved this retelling of “The Wild Swans,” with details mixed in from Japanese fairy tales and other Asian culture. Shiori is a headstrong and stubborn protagonist who is maybe a little silly and naive at first, but when she finds herself banished, alone, and cursed, she draws upon previously unknown strength and resilience within to find her brothers and figure out a way to break the curse. Along the way, she finds herself entangled with a political plot to overthrow her father and wreak havoc on Kiata, which is complicated by the fact that she must remain silent or risk her brothers’ lives, and she learns that her perception of court politics and the other nobility might not be entirely accurate. She also finds herself in the very last place she expects: Her betrothed’s stronghold, where she learns that there is more to him than she initially believed. The magical details and the political intrigue were quite fun, and new reveals and twists sent me racing to the end, which provided a few surprises and have left me really eager for the sequel, The Dragon’s Promise, out later this year.

As a bonus, I loved how much Shiori loves food, and all of the fun foodie descriptions in this book. Shiori learned to cook from her mother and enjoys it because it makes her feel close to her mother’s memory, and finds herself working in kitchens and connecting with other characters through food. This book made me hungry while reading, and I would love nothing more than to order a feast of the food mentioned in this book! Consider yourself warned!