J.S. Fields

Author & Scientist

  • Home
  • Bio
  • Books
  • Store
  • Blog
  • Contact

December 16, 2017

Review: The Mirror Empire by Kameron Hurley

Genre: epic fantasy

Pairings: f/f, f/m, m/m, poly, references made to various enby pairings as well

Queer Representation: lesbian, gay, gender fluid, transgender, bisexual, intersex (sort of)

Warnings: rape, cannibalism, a ridiculous amount of death

Rating: 3.75 stars. Is that a thing? It should be a thing

 

Review

On the eve of a recurring catastrophic event known to extinguish nations and reshape continents, a troubled orphan evades death and slavery to uncover her own bloody past.

There’s more to the back blurb, but the above is the A plot line, and the one with the most depth, IMO. As with most modern epic fantasy, we are exposed to a staggering number of POVs. While I delighted in every moment of the worldbuilding in this book, especially in the queer representation, the volume of characters and their (general) lack of significant growth had this book feeling more like the wanderings of George R.R. Martin than the dynamic head hopping of the Mistborn books (well the first three, anyway).

So let’s start with what I loved.

Queer Representation

I had no idea how to even process the start of this book. Queer characters are everywhere. In fact, I’m not certain anyone is straight in this book. Lilia, our orphan girl from the blurb, has two romantic arcs with women. Roh, a minor POV character, has relations with men. There’s an assassin, another minor POV character, who is an interesting variety of intersex in which his sex actually changes by season. Some countries have five genders (assertive male, passive male, assertive female, passive female, other, although these aren’t the titles they’re given), and people are allowed to pick which fits them best. Some people are flat out gender fluid, some have ambiguous genitalia (I think? There’s some vagueness here). Queer relationships are onscreen everywhere, and no one thinks its weird at all.

How refreshing.

 

Worldbuilding

The concept of the mirrors and alternate dimensions is pretty standard across portal fantasy, but this takes the genre into high fantasy and wow, does it do it well. The viciousness of the landscape, the colors of the sky, the hopelessness of some of the people, the rage of others, it all blends perfectly into a world you could drown in.

I was engaged as well by how smoothly the author transformed standard fantasy tropes on their head. The saturation of females over males in the narrative, especially in the backdrop characters, the casual in-world rapes and power struggles, the sort of casualness of it all, the this is just how it is, served as a poignant reminder of how ridiculous epic fantasy often is. By turning the gender ratios around, Hurley manages to make an effective example why gender ratios matter, especially with background characters. Where were all the men in these worlds? Don’t know, don’t care, this isn’t their story. Don’t like it? Maybe you should look at why that is.

With all that praise out of the way, let’s get to issues.

Character development

At it’s most basic level, the characters developed. They grew up, they learned, they met new people and engaged in battles and magic and whatnot. At a more interpersonal level, we never spent enough time with any one character, never got enough real internal monologue or motivation from any one character, to really see substantive growth. The only character I ever got emotionally attached to was a minor POV character–Zezili’s husband–and his entire purpose in the narrative appeared to be titilation and social commentary. He was the only character with real emotions though. Even Lilia, our primary protagonist, failed to really engage throughout the book. Her early chapters are a reasonable hook, but the middle of the book has so much, so much POV shift that not only is it hard to keep track of who is who, but it’s hard to stay connected to any character long enough for a POV chapter of them to come back around.

Names, Places, Things

Reading this book reminded me of the first time I picked up an Anne McCaffery Pern book. I didn’t know where to start so I just grabbed one and started reading. There were so many words I didn’t know, like klah, and I thought I’d never sort everything out. I did though, by about halfway through the book. Mirror Empire has to be, what, five times as long as that first McCaffery novel I read, and by the end of it there were still words I didn’t know the meaning of, and character names I had to go…wait, who is this again? There’s a glossary at the back, which includes a dramatis personae, but I hated going back to it every fourth word. There was just too much in terms of names for me to keep straight. I’d probably have been fine if I took notes, but I hate taking notes.

 

In general, this book really scratched my ‘epic fantasy’ itch for the year, and I’ve got no complaints as far as queer rep goes. I wish I could have connected with one of the primary protagonists more. Of the main three–orphan girl Lilia, ruthless killer and domestic rapist Zezili, and Ahkio, the dead kai’s brother–Lilia was the most interesting. Her later chapters moved her into the same sort of hard emotion of Zezili though, and I lost interest. Zezili herself seemed human only when thinking of her husband (which is all sort of messed up, since she kept him basically as a sex slave), and Ahkio I never cared for.

Lovers of large cast epic fantasy, dark epic fantasy, and anything even remotely similar to Game of Thrones, will enjoy Mirror Empire. The book is a lot darker than the epic fantasy written by Sanderson, however, so those wanting cleaner, lighter epic fantasy should probably pass.

You can buy THE MIRROR EMPIRE in paperback here and ebook here.

Filed Under: book review Tagged With: bisexual, fantasy, gay, gender fluid, lesbian, poly, trans

December 14, 2017

Review: Touched by Starlight by Linda North

Genre: romance, very light scifi

Pairings: f/f (lesbian)

Queer Representation: cis lesbian

Warnings: rape, dubious consent, body shaming, transphobia

Rating: none

 

Review

“…she clicked on the notebook expecting to see some heifer that looked like a drag queen…”

This isn’t going to be a normal review. I have a lot of very strong feelings about this book, and they need to couched in a discussion of tropes, and the lesbian fiction arc genre as a whole. Before all that, a quick plot review.

Kiernan is a space tech genius with a sizable fortune. Due to the stipulations of her grandmother’s will (of course), Kiernan must be married and produce a child by her 40th birthday. Ariel (who is, yes, named after The Little Mermaid) is a physics professor. Her mother, a data analyst, gets charged with hacking into Kiernan’s business, and through some very underhanded dealings by Kiernan’s uncle, Ariel is forced to marry Kiernan so that Kiernan will not press charges.

So there’s strike one right there.

Let’s talk about tropes

I love tropes. When I read, I’m not always looking for fresh. Sometimes I want to be comforted. Sometimes I want to relax into the known, to follow a path I know the ending to. It can be fun, even exciting, to see a common heterosexual romance trope turned around to involve a same gender pairing. Hot, even, especially when well done (see Gardner’s Born Out of Wedlock, which contains, and this isn’t hyperbole, almost every lesbian trope out there).

The problem with simply doing a find and replace for a standard het romance trope is that a lot of het romance, especially older het romance, is couched in misogyny and/or rape culture. It’s important that authors be mindful of that when redoing these tropes, as otherwise we can unknowingly perpetuate this culture within our own.

I want to be really clear. There is no place for rape culture. Not in the heterosexual world, and not in the homosexual, either. I’m not talking about rape fantasy, which I would be willing to hear an argument for. Here, specifically, I am talking about a greater culture.

 

Doing it right versus doing it wrong

Many of the books I’ve read that rely on heavy-handed tropes (power differentials of different forms, among the most popular being the forced marriage trope), also employ an additional spin. I’m going to keep coming back to Born Out of Wedlock, because 1) I recently read it and 2) it could have gone very, very wrong, but it didn’t. Born had the same set up as Touched by Starlight: forced marriage, power femme, bitchy pseudo-butch (half-butch? moderately butch? Is there a shorter word for ‘butch on the streets, femme in the sheets’?), unbreakable inheritance wills, meddling men.

The fundamental differences between the two are, at the core, intent and consent. For intent, the pairing in Born both have something to gain from the forced marriage. They both have choices. They both have something to lose. The agreement is a business agreement, and there is not even a mention of a forced sex clause. In Touched, sex is stipulated by the contract (by the meddling uncle) and Ariel is coerced into the marriage via threats by her future wife.

See above. Strike one.

For consent, Born operated, for better or for worse, in third person omniscient. Not a particularly popular choice for a narrative, but it made sense in the first bedroom scene, where Addison has aggressive sex with Joanna (our power femme). Because we are in both heads we know Joanna is willing, and while Addison herself is lacking that context (and later laments that she may have raped Joanna), we, the readers, know that not to be the case. It gives conflict, and the ‘heat’ of rape fantasy, without any actual lack of consent. The scene may not be to everyone’s liking, but it was done as well as it could be, and I admire the author’s very clear attempt to remove rape components from such a scene.

In Touched, the word ‘no’ is used repeatedly. Ariel continues to penetrate Kiernan until she is actually in pain. In the orchard scene before this, Kiernan touches Ariel and makes advances despite Ariel having verbally rebuffed her several times. We get access to both sets of thoughts over time, but it is clear in the first sex scene, specifically, the Kiernan wants Ariel to stop, even verbally requests it several times, and Ariel does not.

That’s strike two, and quite frankly I’d have stopped reading at this point if I wasn’t already so determined to finish the book so I could write a proper review.

I don’t know what the author was striving for here. Just because our power femme, who lacked power and was coerced into the marriage, was sexually aggressive to her aggressor to the point of rape does not make rape okay. That they are both women does not make it okay. This would have been rape in a het romance, and it is rape in a same-sex romance. And while I read enough of my grandmother’s bodice rippers to know that falling in love with one’s rapist is a time honored trope, I really expected better from lesbian fiction. We don’t have to be constrained by patriarchal stereotypes. We don’t have to participate in rape culture. We’re better than this.

 

And then there’s the writing…

Strike three was the writing. Choppy, often telling (and then showing, and then telling again), with many redundant scenes. The book read more like a fanfic than a novel in that it wasn’t tight. There was too much ‘here’s a chapter in Kiernan POV, and then here is a chapter in Ariel POV, but they cover the same time span’. The scifi aspect felt tacked on and yet, it was the only fresh part of the book. How did we not get scenes with Kiernan racing spaceships? How did we not get scenes with Ariel designing one, or fixing one? Kiernan runs this space tech company and is apparently very good at it, but we get one spaceship scene, at the end of the book, with mostly a ‘the ship is going to explode’ arc and not any real wonder or tech. There are so many places the author could have taken the plot, and yet, it remained simply a power struggle romance.

 

It’s not over till the fat lady sings

“…she clicked on the notebook expecting to see some heifer that looked like a drag queen…”

Yes, I lead with this quote segment. I’m repeating it again because these casual acts of body shaming and transphobia have no place in lesbian literature. I know they exist, clearly, but they need to be called out, every time. Since this line came from Kiernan’s POV and Kiernan was well established to be a pretty terrible person (I assume this is why she ‘deserved’ to be raped?), it could be argued that this view reflects the character only. If it were the only offense I might be more forgiving. After all, characters grow and authors often enjoy writing unlikable characters. But this, combined with the deplorable acts by both our main characters, makes me wonder if this was just an offhanded line thrown in without thought for what it actually says.

I’m surprised, frankly, to see a book like from a publisher, especially a queer publisher. It makes me wary not only of other books from this author, but of other books from the publisher as well.

I’d like to look for some way to recommend this book to some subset of readers, but I can’t think of any group applicable. It is possible that those interested in more patriarchal rape fantasy, looking to see that trope with two women, will find this book enjoyable. I’d argue, however, that the sex scenes definitively cross the line between dubcon and full on rape.

 

You can buy Touched by Starlight in paperback here and digital here

 

Filed Under: book review Tagged With: dubcon, lesbian, problematic tropes, sci fi

December 13, 2017

Review: Daughter of Mystery by Heather Rose Jones

Genre: period romance / intrigue

Pairings: f/f (lesbian)

Queer Representation: cis lesbian

Rating: 3.5 stars

 

Review

The book premise is a well-loved trope, which helps settle the reader into an otherwise somewhat slow beginning. Barbara is a swordswoman and protector of Baron Saveze, and old and eccentric man who may or may not have her best interests at heart. Conveniently, the Baron also owns Barbara.

Margerit is a moderately wealthy ingenué on her first dancing season. Her uncle has her hunting for a husband, but Margerit would much rather study at university. A chance encounter has Margerit meet the baron just before his death, impressing him, and coming into his wealth and, of course, Barbara as well.

There were a number of really great trope bases that the book set up from the beginning. The ‘I don’t want to own you but I’m forced into it’ paired with the ‘I will protect you for honor and because you’re a good person’ fit well together here. The political intrigue is well done, although the standard patriarchal setting is a bit stale.

The romance builds well and kept me reading for about half the book. What let me down was the lack of payoff. I can be fine with fade to black scenes if there are some reasonable kissing or petting scenes, but every physical scene in this book was either only lightly described (they kissed), or fade to black (they walked out of the woods three hours later). I attribute my frustration primarily to the expectations borne from the advertising. The cover is candlelit and very…lesbian cozy. Between that and the back blurb I was expecting at least mid level steam, or one decent groping scene. By the end of the book I was left satisfied with the plot, but frustrated enough with the lack of payoff that I didn’t want to look up the next book. The book may have been thrown across the room. I can neither confirm nor deny this.

Overall the book was well written and the plot solid. The magic bit seemed tacked on and the book could have stood well without it, but it didn’t detract from the plot, either. I’d have loved to see it play a more prominent role, perhaps bringing our two protagonists closer together as academic pairs (moreso than was already accomplished by the library scenes). Readers of ‘clean’ period romance, historical fantasy, and those looking for sweet instead of hot will enjoy this book a great deal. Those looking for a bit more sex in their spec fic may find the book very frustrating.

You can buy DAUGHTER OF MYSTERY in paperback here and digital here.

Filed Under: book review Tagged With: fantasy, lesbian, romance

December 11, 2017

Review: Magnifique Noir by Briana Lawrence

Genre: YA superhero

Pairings: f/f/f/f/f/f/f (magical girl…)

Queer Representation: lesbian, bi, ace, trans

Rating: 4 stars

 

Review:

We all have that little place in our hearts that gets filled when we see some overused trope, one that we know and love, used with representation that matters to us. A sizable portion of the queer romance book industry is based on this truth–what is a heterosexual’s tired old cliche is just downright hot when the pairing gets queer, or, in this case, queer, black, and body positive.

Magnifique Noir is, at it’s heart, a retelling of Sailor Moon. The beginning of the book even starts out with the same Usagi-like wake up, disdain of school, being a bad student, etc. Ami and Rei have been melded into one character (smart and kind of bitchy) and a few of the other warriors (senshi under another name) show up later on. The crew has a headquarters, run not by cats but by Golden Blaze (a matronly woman whom I love), but they still have all the same sparkly transformations and school troubles and boy troubles and all that.

Except did I say boy troubles? I meant girl troubles.

Magnifique Noir is gay. Like, Sailor Moon was super queer, don’t get me wrong. Sailor Starlights what? I may or may not have pretended to just flat out be Haruka for years. But in this version, every warrior is somewhere on the flag, and the representation is wonderful. They’re also all women of color, which puts this delightfully illustrated book in a whole different league. Why subvert one trope when you can subvert two, while still paying homage to the greatest anime of all time? Magnifique Noir is a delight from start to finish, full of all the lush color and bubblegum happiness we expect from the magical girl genre.

I had two gripes with the book, which ended up knocking off a star from the otherwise five star rating. The first was the very heavy reliance on the magical girl tropes, specifically, Sailor Moon. While I consider myself a Sailor Moon expert, those, especially younger readers who never had the fortune of DiC morning cartoons and trying to figure out why Haruka and Michiru seemed like really skeevy cousins, will likely find themselves lost in the early fan service of the book. Lawrence does an excellent job updating the nerdiness of the women for millennial audience (YouTube channels, etc.), but a lot of the character work and events are interesting mostly from a ‘OMG I remember this from the TV show / manga,’ not because they play an important role in the narrative.

My second issue ties in with the first, in terms of pacing. The beginning was slow. The author was relying a lot on nostalgia, which I get and indeed, kept me reading, and the feeling of ‘finally, representation,’ but outside of those areas it was hard to get invested in the heroines. The threats didn’t seem substantial or built up enough, and the intros lacked the depth needed to get into the character’s heads.

On the flip side, the illustrations and cover art are gorgeous, and the premise fresh but also comfortable. Fans of Sailor Moon, as well as teens and college aged people looking to see themselves mirrored in their favorite anime tropes will delight in this book.

 

You can buy Magnifique Noir here.

Filed Under: book review Tagged With: asexual, bisexual, lesbian, magical girl, trans, YA

November 26, 2017

Review: Moonshine by Jasmine Gower

Genre: fantasy (unclassifiable – semi historical, semi urban)

Pairings: m/m (but one is a fairy), nods to f/f in-world and a decent dance scene

Queer Representation: disability, gender fluidity, trans issues, pansexuality, aromantic, asexual

Rating: 4.5 stars

 

 

Review

Another book from the #DVsquad and #DVpit! Woohoo! I’m delighted that I got a chance to review an ARC. As with CITY OF BRASS, this was an enchanting fantasy with a deep connection to its time period.

Daisy is a Modern Girl in a sort of post-apocalyptic version of the Roaring Twenties, where faeries and ogres and magic all exist. Not a magician herself, Daisy has inherited some trinkets from her grandmother that are imbued with magic–not enough to cause trouble, but enough to keep soot off her clothes and hide her personage when needed. She takes a job as a clerical worker at an (unbeknownst to her) magical mana factory (all very underground, you see, because in this Prohibition, it’s magic juice that’s outlawed) and looks forward to a very average life. But working for a magical speakeasy is anything but safe, and Daisy soon finds herself the target of a hit, as well as in charge of an exiled faerie her boss may have accidentally freed. Good thing Grandma’s blood magic trinkets are still around!

The strong sense of setting was my favorite part of this book. Every image evokes a sense of yearning at an era those from the USA often romanticize, but it is if we are viewing this history through a distorted lens. There are speakeasies, but they deal in magic mana. There are hit people, but they have cannons that block magical ability. There are all the same horrible social stratifications, but here they revolve around magic users, both human and other.

The plot is a bit slow to get started, which is the only real negative of this book. At first I assumed the story arc would involve something with the underground mana business, but about halfway through the book it becomes clear that cleanup of the boss’ mess (releasing the faerie) is the primary arc. With the strength of the characters (which the author carries well) and the setting, I think the narrative could have handled something heavier than ‘return faerie to his dimension’ plot, but I was not unhappy with it. I think I just wanted more, and was upset to so quickly leave this world.

The writing was strong and even, and Daisy’s voice was easy to connect with. Her desires and goals resonated quickly with me, and I also appreciated the unique voices of the secondary cast. There was a great deal of queer diversity in the book as well, spanning gender fluidity, pansexuality, ace and aro characters, etc.

MOONSHINE is a quirky, often surprising take on the Prohibition Era of the USA, drenched in fresh fantasy elements and strong characterization. It deserves a place on every fantasy-lover’s bookshelf, and is a strong addition to the #DVsquad archive.

 

You can preorder MOONSHINE in digital here and paperback here.

Filed Under: book review Tagged With: aromantic, asexual, disability, fantasy, gender fluid, poly, trans

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • …
  • 23
  • 24
  • 25
  • 26
  • 27
  • Next Page »

NEWEST BOOK RELEASE

NEWEST BOOK RELEASE

Blog Posts

Review: Where You Linger by Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam

September 16, 2023

Genre: sci fi / horror anthology Queer Representation: bisexual, trans, nobinary, lesbian Warnings: … [Read More...]

Review: RUST IN THE ROOT by Justina Ireland

September 25, 2022

Genre: fantasy: alternate history / high fantasy (upper YA) Pairings: f/f to f/nonbinary Queer Representation: cis … [Read More...]

Get My Blog Posts Via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 20 other subscribers

Keep In Touch

  • Twitter

Other J.S. Fields Sites

Good Reads
Patreon

Other Links

  • 17th Shard Writing Group
  • Reading Excuses Facebook Page

Copyright ©2016 · J.S. Fields