A great book with a wealth of information about medieval graffiti in churches, where you might find it, what it could mean and why it was so important.

The book acknowledges and explains it but it’s still disappointing to me that most of the graffiti mentioned is in the South East of England. I’d also have like to have learned about the best way of viewing graffiti (lighting tips would be amazing) and a little less about how nobody has looked into this stuff in the right way before.

Overall though a great read on an interesting topic.

To start with let me say that I was made to read this book by a 13 year old who was obsessed with it. That’s possible the nicest way of being introduced to a book.

I probably would have loved it at that age myself. It’s a Weird collection in every sense of the word. The stories refuse to stick to a genre, they sometimes reference earlier ones and sometimes don’t, and there are enough hinted at secrets to keep anyone occupied.

Honestly if you’d told me all that before I went in I’m not sure I would have read it. But I went in blind on a teen’s recommendation and I had the time of my life.

Somehow it works. Some stories are a pleasant read, others horrifying, sometimes because of human actions and sometimes because of something more. I ate up every reference to the book within a book, every clue at a greater mystery.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand this book. I think that’s part of its charm.

This is a book unashamed of its politics. It’s written for a point, it does not pretend otherwise. It does not beat around the bush.

It could have been a straightforward morality tale about how women are let down so badly they could end up on death row and be okay with it.

Instead it was all that and a story of a complex young woman, beautifully told with and playful use of language. The injustice is brought even more to the forefront because of it.

This was my second reading and I was worried. When I first read this I was in the right place emotionally, I adored the characters and their arcs and I enjoy this darker side of cozy fantasy.

The characters are facing real problems. Cyril’s suicidal ideation is a constant theme. It’s cozy though in the sense that through communication, working together and learning from their mistakes they try to forge a better world.

Tonally the writing reminds me of Howl’s Moving Castle. The fantastic and wonderful is described with a sense of humour and a raised eyebrow. Cyril, as a sad over dramatic wizard does have a similarity with Howl but, with the book written from his perspective, he also reminds me of Sophie. Both of them make unreliable narrators because they’re very smart but often miss what is going on.

Which could be annoying but the book carries it off with that wonderful sense of humour and the affection it builds up for the characters.

This isn’t a perfect book, by any stretch of the imagination. In particular the pacing falls apart in the middle. The tone hits just right for me, I’m excited to read what the author does next and I do love a sad, overdramatic wizard.

I don’t want to go too much into the individual stories at the fear of giving things away. And, as I love these stories I want as many people to have a wonderful reading experience with them as possible.

I was expecting a set of creepy stories, of a certain vintage. And as creepy stories they are lovely. They build slowly, enveloping the reader in the atmosphere. You’re not going to get jump scared but it’s genuinely unsettling.

What I wasn’t expecting, and I really love, is the humour, the wry observation, and the way the stories challenge power and expectation. Perhaps I should have expected that. It’s Edith Wharton after all.

If you want a smart, sharp but still spooky collection of stories this one is for you.

Do I think the plot of violent revenge undermines the general message of acceptance? Yes, yes I do.

Do I think the conversations around sexuality, gender and race are too much like a basic online lecture (only difference is people end up agreeing)? Also yes.

Do I think that this is probably a good example of a genre that I don’t normally read and isn’t intended for people like me? Yeah. Someone out there will love this but that person isn’t me.

This was a second read through for me so I knew I was going to enjoy it but it has so much to appreciate.

I adore Æthel and Ine and their relationship. The clear respect and affection they have for each other. Their inability to communicate is beautifully and heartbreakingly written. Not your typical miscommunication trope but people who desperately want to but can’t.

Their queer identities are rooted firmly in history, with the issues that they bring but it still manages to be hopeful and tender.

But it’s not all about the people. The political intrigue at court. The looming battles, both human and supernatural. It all makes for a great read.

This book was just what I needed when I read it: a simple story, an interesting but not mind boggling fantasy setting, and Sidra and Torrin. Always nice to see romance in an established couple.

I wouldn’t say there is anything that stood out though. Anything that grabbed me. Anything that would mean I’ll remember having read this book in a year or two.

There were also minor annoyances. The fantasy Scotland setting was clearly written by an American. Some of didn’t read true. The author doesn’t seem to have ever encountered gorse for instance, and the constant use of ‘parritch’ when there were few other Scots words seemed arbitrary.

I was also struck by the lack of religion in the setting. Faith is a large part of Sidra’s story, and Kirks are mentioned. But what does the religion of the islanders look like? Is it all belief in the folk, the God of the Kirk? Is it a mix. It seemed weird that it was such a sticking point for Sidra and yet not explained to the reader.

For the most part though this is a lovely world to spend time in. It might not hold up to scrutiny but when I was reading it I didn’t need it to. It was a pleasant book to pass some time with.