Comfort Me with Apples by Catherynne M. Valente | Book Review

Comfort Me with Apples by Catherynne M. Valente
Published by Tordotcom, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

In this short, quasi-horror novel, we follow Sophia, a devoted wife living in a seemingly idyllic gated community, where residents are promised a life of safety from the dangers of the outside world as long as they abide by the strict set of rules. Troubled by strange objects she begins to find around her home, intrigued by the locked cellar, and suspicious of her husband’s increasing absences, Sophia begins to worry that her perfect existence isn’t quite what it seems.

There is, as you’d expect from the setup, an element of mystery that lies at the heart of this slim yet impactful story. In that respect, it is arguably best to head in knowing as little as possible. That said, most of the twists and turns are ultimately derivative of works we’ve seen before. Parallels with Ira Levin’s novel The Stepford Wives, the classic fairy tale Bluebeard, and Darren Aronofsky’s film Mother are impossible to ignore. If you’ve seen and/or read these, nothing will prove especially surprising, despite how clever the gradual eking out of the truth may initially seem. While this meant much of the story’s potential impact felt somewhat dampened for me, the quietly sinister atmosphere, striking imagery, and swift delivery kept me compelled nonetheless.

The prose itself is lush and flowery. In some instances, it would feel overwrought, but here it feels reflective of Sophia’s naive, sickly-sweet worldview, foreshadowing the rude awakening that lies ahead.

This wasn’t the knockout favourite I hoped it could be – given how many of its elements appeal directly to my taste. But while it may not be all that original, I certainly found it worthwhile and well-executed.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

The Glass Woman by Caroline Lea | Book Review

The Glass Woman by Caroline Lea
Published by Michael Joseph, 2019
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I was instantly hooked by this richly atmospheric tale set in 1600s Iceland. We follow Rósa as she moves to a remote village to join her new husband, Jón – a relative stranger. But Rósa is not Jón’s first wife, and the locals whisper of the mysterious circumstances surrounding her predecessor’s death, with Jón having buried her alone in the dead of night. Talk of witchcraft, strange goings on, and a locked attic soon fuel Rósa’s own suspicions about her husband’s past.

Many readers will immediately pick up on the early references to Jane Eyre and Rebecca. These are very deliberate, paying homage to the gothic classics that came before, and establishing certain expectations that Lea can enjoy indulging and subverting, keeping us on our toes throughout. Several layers of mystery and an evocative setting make the whole thing a real page turner. That said, there is also meaningful and poignant commentary on the fear of being ostracised, the damage caused by secrets and lies, and the importance of perspective in understanding the truth.

Lea also goes a great job of reflecting how hard life could be at the time, with everyone existing at the mercy of the stark landscape, the brutal weather, and each other’s prejudices.

Without spoilers, the only downside for me was the inclusion of a certain trope at the book’s end. While in many respects it feels appropriate given the narrative’s historical context, it’s an outcome we’ve seen many times before, and something a little more unexpected would have been welcome.

Still, I flew through this chunky novel, and enjoyed every moment I spent in its company.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

Wivenhoe by Samuel Fisher | Book Review

Wivenhoe by Samuel Fisher
Published by Corsair, 2022
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Set in an alternate present, where the climate crisis has buried the UK beneath endless snow, a cut-off village community is rocked by the brutal murder of one of their own. Told from the dual perspectives of a mother and her adult son (the step-mother and step-brother of the killer), the book asks us to consider the motivations and ramifications of violence, and what parts of society are worth holding onto when the world is falling apart.

Fisher writes incredibly well, his descriptive prose evoking the barren, frozen landscape and the characters’ isolation to great effect, without feeling dense or flowery. Tension swells throughout the narrative, and though the expected climax never quite comes, this ties in thematically with the idea of breaking toxic cycles of violence, and knowing when to admit defeat.

Tragic yet hopeful, Wivenhoe’s timely look at taking back control when it feels like the world is on pause is sure to resonate with many.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

Recent Reads | 4 Mini Reviews

Cats in Spring Rain, curated & translated by Aya Kusch
Published by Chronicle Books, 2022
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

An incredibly charming selection of classic Japanese art and poetry that celebrates our love of cats. Their mischief, aloofness, elegance, fierceness, and affection are all showcased, and the design and layout of the book itself is gorgeous.

I really appreciated the inclusion of the Japanese, phonetic, and English versions of each poem, with the gentle, fleeting, contemplative nature of haiku perfectly suited to the subject matter.

My only criticism is that women writers and artists are very underrepresented. I appreciate it was historically much more difficult for them to pursue the arts and be taken seriously, but I would have liked to see a little more diversity in the creators featured.

Still, this is such a lovely little read and an ideal gift for any lover of cats, traditional Japanese art, and/or haiku.

---

Flowers for the Sea by Zin E. Rocklyn
Published by Tor, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

I like a short, sharp horror story, which is what I was hoping for from this, but despite a good set up and strong, evocative prose, it never quite delivered on its own promise.

I don’t think this will stick with me, but I like the ideas being flirted with and the author’s overall style, so I would certainly check out more from them in the future.

---

Tamlin by Aven Wildsmith
Published by Knight Errant Press, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

This graphic novel is a queer retelling of a Scottish folktale. First and foremost, Wildsmith’s art is gorgeous; suitably lush to draw you into the forest setting and the whimsy of this classic story. The prose itself is simple yet lovely, reading like an extended free verse poem, while the loose, flowing nature of the panel structure adds to the dreamy quality.

It’s short, so I won’t go into any story details for those unfamiliar with the original, but its themes of forbidden love, feeling trapped, going unseen by society, and finding peace within our own bodies through (painful) transformation all lend themselves perfectly to being reimagined through a queer lens.

---

Fangs by Sarah Andersen
Published by Andrews McMeel, 2020
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Normally, the idea of a self-proclaimed funny book that threatens to be this twee would not be my kind of thing. Having seen a couple of panels from this graphic novel online, however, I decided to give it a go, and I’m really glad I did. There’s not much of a story, per se. Instead, it’s a series of slice-of-life moments between a vampire and a werewolf navigating a new relationship together, playing around with well-known supernatural tropes and real-life, contemporary dating.

Something about the charm of this really worked for me: I found myself smiling the whole way through and even chuckling out loud several times. It’s a fun, silly, tongue-in-cheek yet heartfelt little read that’s perfect for an afternoon’s escapism.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

Hex by Jenni Fagan | Book Review

Hex by Jenni Fagan
Published by Polygon, 2022
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Set on the eve of a young woman’s execution in 16th century Scotland, this is a look at how fear and hearsay were used as tools of oppression.

The narrative primarily focusses on Geillis as she reflects on her short life, recounting how and why she came to be accused of witchcraft and sentenced to hang for it. There is, however, a thread of magical realism that runs throughout, which sees Iris, a woman from the present day, seemingly travelling through time and space to comfort Geillis in her prison cell on her final night, before transforming into a crow so she can watch over her.

Thematically, this connection between two women across the years is used to comment on the fact that, while witch trials are a thing of the past, misogyny and abuses of power are still very much alive. While this resonates, and I remained intrigued at the time, on reflection I find it a little counterproductive. While Geillis is poignantly stoic in her declaration of innocence, determined to denounce the men who have unjustly wronged her, Iris’s role within the story suggests that magic and witches are in fact real, somewhat undermining the book’s commentary on the harm of lies and corruption.

Aside from feeling a little too on-the-nose at times, the book is nonetheless well written, and it manages to get you invested in its characters and pack an emotional punch despite its relatively short length.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

Warsan Shire, ND Stevenson, & Liam Konemann | Mini Reviews

The Fire Never Goes Out by ND Stevenson
Published by Harper, 2020
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

These slice of life diary entries start out chronicling life as a young artist suddenly propelled to success, but they gradually transition into an honest, relatable look at burnout, exploring your identity, and dealing with mental health issues.

Stevenson’s work has such a charm and warmth to it, and while there’s an endearing vulnerability on show throughout, the themes of gender, sexuality, and mental health are only ever really explored at surface level, due to the nature of the graphic memoir’s structure.

---

The Appendix by Liam Konemann
Published by 404 Ink, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Personal yet self-aware, this is a concise look at life as a trans, gay man in modern Britain. There’s a particular focus on representation within the media, the idea of “passing”, and the difficult road to acceptance and happiness.

Despite the tagline, and the more hopeful conclusion, it’s worth noting this isn’t always a joyous read. Konemann is frank in his portrayal of trans/homophobia, but his articulate, approachable, warm style certainly soften the blow.

Affirming for those who’ve experienced similar prejudice, and enlightening for those who haven’t, this is a great little read, with much to say despite its deceptive page count.

---

Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head by Warsan Shire
Published by Random House Trade, 2022
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

A bold, powerful, and unflinching look at race, womanhood, and identity. Shire has a real knack for striking imagery that hits you in the gut, capturing all the beauty and heartache of the immigrant experience, a longing for home, and the perils of navigating the world as a young Black woman.

Between this full-length collection and her previous pamphlet, Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth, Shire is fast becoming one of my favourite poets.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

Poetry & Nonfiction | Three Mini Reviews

Release the Beast by Bimini Bon Boulash
Published by Viking, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Cynics will likely assume this to be a quick cash grab designed to capitalise on Bimini’s meteoric rise to fame following their appearance on Drag Race UK, but it’s so much more than that.

Bimini is smart, articulate, and compassionate. Yes, there are fun, lighter moments, but they tackle a number of important topics, including gender identity, politics, sexuality, and substance abuse. Drawing on personal anecdotes, they always adopt a self-reflective, intersectional approach to their views; their warmth and wisdom emphasising the importance of community among queer people.

---

My Spirit Burns Through This Body by Akwaeke Emezi
Published by The Paris Review, 2020
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

In this short but powerful essay, Emezi paints a harrowing picture of life with a chronic illness; the physical and mental ramifications of suppressed trauma.

They write with honesty and flair, capturing the frustration of a disconnect between what the mind wants and what the body can cope with. Ultimately, it’s about learning to be kind and patient with yourself, by recognising your own boundaries and living with rather than against the pain.

---

Summon by Elizabeth Ridout
Published by Myriad Editions, 2020
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

As with many poetry collections, I found the pieces here pretty hit or miss, but the highlights made it well worth checking out. Rideout’s regular use of bold, visceral imagery ensured every piece was interesting to read, even if I didn’t necessarily connect on a personal level.

My favourite lines, from Dinner Table: “By addressing these divides, we are embroidering / in red along the branches of the family tapestry, / deadheading bloodlines that were dripping / down the generations and on to your tablecloth.”

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield
Published by Picador, 2022
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Part love story, part sci-fi chiller, this follows Miri, whose wife Leah has just returned from a botched deep-sea mission that left her stranded in a claustrophobic underwater vessel for months. Though initially relieved to have her back, it soon becomes clear that something about Leah has been changed by her experiences, her behaviour and appearance becoming increasingly strange.

I love the setup for this novel, which has all the ingredients to be my ideal read: queer, speculative, and creepy. It’s worth noting, therefore, that I had very high expectations heading in. For me, the book is definitely at its strongest when it flirts with the realms of body horror, but there was always a sense that the author was holding back in this respect, and I found myself waiting for a descent into full-blown horror that sadly never came.

For the most part, the book reads as an allegory for loving someone who has been changed due to illness – with obvious parallels being drawn with Miri’s mother, who died from an unspecified illness that seems to be dementia, leaving Miri with a lot of internalised health anxiety. Armfield asks poignant questions about what it means to love someone who is ill: the pain of watching them gradually slip away; the denial and frustration that can lead you to decline help and isolate yourself from others; the bittersweet power of past memories; and the pain of letting go.

I appreciate the way the narrative mirrors the protagonists’ experiences of feeling trapped, and being confronted by the unknown: Leah, quite literally trapped at the bottom of the ocean, and Miri, weighed down by the emotional strain of her wife’s eventual return. There are definitely times when the story lags somewhat, trudging slowly around the same ideas multiple times, but this soon feels deliberate, emphasizing the monotony felt by many of those living with – or caring for someone with – a chronic, degenerative illness.

Not quite the knockout favourite I hoped it would be, this was still a compelling read that explores the unique and shattering pain of grieving for someone who is technically not quite gone, as Miri learns to accept her grief, and push beyond her own fears to do right by those she loves.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

T.C. Eglington & Claire Keegan | Mini Reviews

Thistlebone Book One by T.C. Eglington & Simon Davis
Published by 2000 AD, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Sumptuously rich and detailed artwork really sells the unnerving imagery and threatening atmosphere in this tale of ritualistic folk horror. Our heroine is the survivor of a now defunct cult, returning to the scene of her torment 20 years later, after ominous messages suggest the group has been revived.

Madness, folklore, mass hysteria, and PTSD all play a part in the narrative, which builds in tension throughout. Reaching boiling point in the closing pages, we’re left horrified and wanting more in equal measure, perfectly setting up the promise of Book 2. While it doesn’t offer anything hugely new to the genre, it’s perfectly solid and satisfying.

---

Foster by Claire Keegan
Published by Faber & Faber, 2010
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Claire Keegan has a brilliant knack for exploring the power of what remains unsaid. Though it comes in just shy of 100 pages, this novella has such emotional depth and beautifully drawn characters who feel almost painfully real.

Our narrator is a young girl who, in the opening pages, is taken by her father and left with a couple who live on a farm in rural Ireland. As she comes to know true affection for the first time, and uncovers a terrible secret, what follows is an understated yet deeply moving exploration of family, loneliness, class, grief, and love. Keegan writes sparingly and does an excellent job of capturing a child’s naïve worldview, and yet there’s a lyrical quality to her prose that paints the scene and elevates the reading experience significantly.

While the climax delivers a well-earned gut punch, and I so admire Keegan’s ability to tell such a rounded and affecting story with so few words, I do wish we could have stayed with these characters just a little longer, to further explore the implications of the final moments. Still, it says something in and of itself if my only complaint is that I wanted more.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi

The Antarctica of Love by Sara Stridsberg | Book Review

The Antarctica of Love by Sara Stridsberg
Translated from the Swedish by Deborah Bragan-Turner
Published by Quercus Books, 2021
Rating: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Though this is in many ways a quiet, ruminative character study, it kept me utterly enthralled. It opens, as so many books do, with the violent murder of a young woman, but it immediately subverts every trope associated with the dead-girl-as-mere-plot-device.

Inni is exactly the kind of person who falls through the cracks of society, and whose death is flippantly portrayed in media time and time again: a drug addict living on the street who has turned to prostitution to scrape by. Taking on an omniscience, she narrates the novel herself, reclaiming her story in a way she never could while alive. Weaving back and forth through time, she reflects on every decision and heartache that led her to the point of her death, and watches over those she has left behind as they carry on without her – namely: her parents, her former lover, and her two children, both of whom were taken into care before she died. The story always returns to the scene of her death, however, which throughout the novel is explored in excruciating, harrowing detail. Despite the complexity of her character, and a life of love, loss, trials, and tribulations, it is this single moment out with her control that is unfairly destined to be her legacy.

The prose is stunning, with the translation having been handled seamlessly. In some instances, it may have seemed too dense or flowery, but the almost dreamlike quality is perfectly suited to the novel’s tone of melancholy and contemplation.

A shattering portrait of addiction, grief, the impact of trauma, and the idea of familial inheritance, this heartfelt novel and its painfully well-realised protagonist will stick with me for quite some time.

---

Connect: Twitter | Etsy | Goodreads | Ko-fi