booksthatburn's reviews
1463 reviews

BAND SINISTER is a delightful and intimate story, where two men with bad blood between their families, end up closer than they could’ve imagined after Amanda breaks her leg and is forced to convalesce at Phillip’s estate, accompanied by her devoted brother, Guy. Phillip, for his part, is with his dearest friends since boyhood, who have shared every intimacy with one another. Including, to Guy’s astonishment, sexual intimacy among men, the idea of which is as alluring as Phillip himself.

I very much enjoyed the polyamorous tenor of the story. While the main romance is between Guy and Phillip, it’s within the context of Phillip’s longtime friendship, physical intimacy, and bonds deeper than romance with his two friends. The characters are vibrant and distinct, and the cozy setting of the manor house let the romance spend long stretches undisturbed by outside concerns (until near the end when unfortunate relations intrude once more). Amanda has written a novel which is inspired by the rumors about the hellfire club, but they turn out to be very lovely people. She and Guy have some consternation about how to handle the fact that she's written a book based on these people they have now come to know.

I like how cozy this feels, even the minor element of concealing the gothic novel's origins was less stressful than I normally find lying to be in relationships. I wish there were a sequel, but this feels very complete and I'm pleased with the ending.

PROVENANCE isn't quite a sequel, though the grander politics in play make it clear that this takes place after the main Imperial Radch trilogy. It does so without spoiling anything that would feel too important while reading the trilogy, which I appreciate. It could easily be approached as a stand-alone book, though some aspects of characterization and worldbuilding, particularly as related to a few of the aliens, received much more explanation in the main trilogy.  

Structurally, one of the things that I find so wonderful about this series is the way that at every turn there are forces in play beyond the main character, creating a story that feels much larger than their goals. While this is generally true in many novels I feel it especially when reading the Imperial Radch series because of the way that every time the main character either has a very specific long term goal and can quickly adapt to changes on the way (as in the main trilogy), or as is the case here, one very specific goal that is over very quickly, then the rest of the story develops as the almost inevitable consequence of those very early decisions. Ingrid wants to obtain a particular person in order to have em help her with something, but it soon appears she doesn't have the right person and things are much stranger than she anticipated. 

Things I love, in no particular order: Ingrid as a character, her rivalry with her brother, the mechs, the ship captain, how language and pronouns are handled, the artifacts and the way their cultural significance is both intertwined with and separate from their actual history.

I enjoyed the audiobook narrator's performance, it enhanced the story generally. I like this as a stand-alone story in an established setting, and hope there continue to be more entries like it.

I was amused by Robin and Marianne's names, wondering at first if this was meant to be a retelling of some sort. It's not, but the choice to have Robin and Marianne of Loxleigh as poor people trying to make matches with rich people to obtain their fortunes is no accident. 

Hart is initially suspicious of Robin, a fact not helped by the reality that Robin is a scammer trying to marry Hart's niece. To allow him to escape a gambling debt, Robin proposes a month where it he is at Hart's disposal, specifically but not only for sex. Because of the framework of their original agreement, and the fact that Robin is a scammer, the transition from contracted sex to genuine intimacy takes a few tries to figure out. I like that Hart isn't able to smoothly switch the terms of their arrangement, he and Robin have to each decide what they want and how they're willing to get it. All of this is complicated by the need to work around Marianne's attempts to snare a rich but odious man, as the other half of the siblings' plan for wealth and stability. I'm generally stressed out by lying in relationships, but the way this was handled avoided that completely. Robin is a scammer, Hart suspects it from the beginning, and then is right, so even though they have things to explain, it's not a sudden switch from trust to betrayal (at least not for the two of them). 

Things I love, in no particular order: the dynamic between Hart and Robin; Alice - everything about her, really; the showdown at the end; Marianne and Robin's relationship as siblings. While there is a planned sequel, this particular story seems complete as-is. The ending is a satisfying one that leaves room for the characters to appear in the background of future stories, at the very least. 

WHAT MOVES THE DEAD is a retelling of Poe's "The Fall of the House of Usher", which I waited to read until after I'd finished the retelling. This was a good decision, leaving me room to enjoy what the novella actually does rather than waiting for the scant events from the original story to play out. The cast of characters is larger and significantly more developed than in the original, which is good. The particular fungal incursion is resolved, but as this gets a sequel I doubt the problem was handled once and for all, merely suppressed in this particular instance. 

Things I love, in no particular order: the way pronouns and gender are used; the appearance of a relative of Beatrix Potter, who was a children's writer/illustrator because of sexism precluding her from illustrating botanical texts; the way the discovery of the cause is approached; how creepy the hares are.

ONE NIGHT IN HARTSWOOD is everything I hoped for, and more; a gay romance which mostly takes place during a several week journey by horse, as one man returns home and the other flees an oppressive household. I love romances that are built on communication, which is somewhat ironic, given that both Raff and Penn are keeping major parts of their identities secret, even if they talk about everything else. Normally, lying in relationships stresses me out, but the symmetry of the fact that both of them are keeping the same level of secret and don’t know if the other one is safe to trust with it helped it be less stressful for me. 

This is set up to have at least one sequel, though its particular story is self-contained. Rather than leave an obvious story hook open, it ends with the characters in new situations which grant the possibility of future events without demanding any particular follow up. 

I love Penn and Raff, I like them as individual characters and I enjoy how well they work together. They each have very different relationships with their families. Penn seems to be close with two of his several siblings, despite neither showing up for very long. His father is terrible, rather unambiguously playing the villain. Raff has close and mostly loving relationships with his sister and brother, and, despite their differences, they seem to understand each other fairly well. Not much is shown of Raff's relationship with his father, but what is there seems to be filled with respect and care.

Other things I love, in no particular order: how much of the time is spent just traveling and sleeping in the woods and dealing with inns; the wound care towards the end of the book; the way Penn obviously grows as a person; the more subtle ways that Raff starts to trust in other peoples' competence.

This was great, I want more, and I'm eager for the sequel.

*I received a free review copy in exchange for an honest review of this book. 

“Shades” and “Silver” are a pair of stories set in a world where each person choses their metal(s) and crafts their horn when they come of age. It’s a society without delineations of gender, and part of why it works so well is that it’s not trying to use metal horns to replicate some version of gender. Instead, the horns are a social signifier, a rite of passage, and a way of claiming one’s own identity and declaring some aspect of personality to the community. These are all things that gender facilitates in many parts of our world, but this novella illustrates very well how something else can fill those social needs, especially in a fantasy setting unconstrained by actual abilities.

Things I love, in no particular order: The discussions of the aftermath of a traumatic brain injury, the feeling of a gap between who you could’ve been, if this hadn’t happened, and the reality of living with the person that does exist, and making some kind of peace with that; The horns are a thing that has many of the social functions that are filled by gender in the real world, but are not attempting to be a one-to-one parallel. If anything, the parallels are fluent and aspirational, something someone chooses, informed by their past, but not bound by it, deeply related to who they are as they come of age. In "Silver", there’s an exploration of what happens when you have to fake this thing that everyone else has, that they just assume you’ll be able to do too, and how hard it can be to know, if it’s safe to tell, and when other people have a vested interest, in you continuing to fake it.