“In order to have a future worth fighting for, you must have a past worth remembering.”

Overview Oh, man. I mean, what can I say that hasn't already been said? This book was everything it's described as: beautiful, heart-wrenching, enrapturing. And quite funny too! I didn't expect it to have as much dry wit as it did, but that was a big bonus for me as sometimes humor added to fiction can lean a bit heavy handed. That certainly wasn't the case here, though.

I have found that a lot of fantasy and/or romantasy tends to take a bit for me to truly get into it. Usually because the beginning has a lot of lore drops and worldbuilding to get through before the action begins—which I understand—but as much as I was expecting that here, it never came. Harrow's style of writing immediately drew me in. She has a way of writing that feels captivating and evocative without feeling pretentious. Not a word feels wasted.

The Romance I know second person POVs in fiction can be polarizing, but I think it worked exceptionally well here and added another layer to the story. It made the book read like an ode or like a love letter passed between the main characters. And in many ways, it was! The romance isn't the entire focus of the plot, but it certainly is a large part of it. Harrow did something highly skillful here in creating a love story that truly felt like something eternal, something ordained. It's not a love that's easily held in one's hands, it's one Harrow makes you work for, but it's also one that our characters fight and claw for again, and again, and again. And again.

I also loved that neither of our MCs fit into traditional gender roles in their real lives or within their relationship. It was the first time, I think, that I've seen a heterosexual presenting relationship in a book truly feel stripped of binary. It was unbelievably refreshing.

Also, Owen is an eater—rejoice!

What Didn't Work As Well for Me Time travel is a hard thing to get right in books, and I think that Harrow did well; However, my rating was lowered slightly as I felt there were a few inconsistencies in the way it was described to work here. I also wanted a bit more explanation on the initial magic that kind of fueled this whole story to begin with. It's discussed, certainly, but I wanted more as the explanation still left me asking okay, but why?

Conclusion Other than the very minor instances mentioned, this book was breathtaking. It was my first Alix E. Harrow book, but I don't foresee it being my last. If you like dark fairy tales, muscular lady knights, wiry scholars, and a romance that's hard-won, The Everlasting is for you.

Audiobook Narration: 4.5 🌟 This book was dually narrated by Moira Quirk (Blood Over Bright Haven, Gideon the Ninth) and Sid Sagar. They were both phenomenal! They both were also particularly well-suited to their characters and they navigated emotionally-charged scenes beautifully. I did have to occasionally speed up or slow down my listening speed depending on who was narrating at the moment, but it didn't really detract from the experience all that much.

Favorite Quotes

• “I loved you by then, or would soon, or always had. It was inevitable, foretold: When I look up, I will see the sky; when I fight, I will win; when I meet Owen Mallory, I will love him.”
• “Let us lie here forever. Let us be buried as wild things are, by tooth and claw and worm. Let the grasses grow up through the sockets of our eyes. Let them find us in seven years or seventy, and let their brows furrow, because they cannot tell my bones from yours.”
• “Because no throne is held easily, or for long; because a nation is a story we tell about ourselves, and stories change, if you let them. Because where there is power, someone will oppose it.”
• “Take me however you want. Use me cruelly or kindly, as you like. Command me, if you can.”

This book sat like a boulder in my chest.

It's a story about magic, grief, a plague, marriage as endurance, a mother's love, and a man who was made entirely on the backs of the women in his life.

Maggie O'Farrell writes as if she's taking a slow stroll through the world she's creating and cataloguing everything she sees; from the tall grasses and the wildflowers studded between them to the tiny dust motes suspended within a sunbeam. Everything, no matter how big or small, gets a moment of observation and meditation on its mere existence.

Every thought a character has is held in their palm and turned this way and that, until all sides and corners have been closely studied and all possible nuance has been wrung out. This type of storytelling certainly doesn't lend itself to a rapidly moving plot, but it does create a story that rewards patience and contemplation.

O'Farrell has an ability to write grief in a way only a handful of authors I have come across have been able to, and I'll always be grateful (and a little heart-sore) for having experienced it. I'll leave a link 🔗 here to my forum post that discusses that part of it a bit more.

Overall, a really beautiful reflection on loss, family, and the women who create these idolized men but are seldom rewarded for it.

This is going to be a pretty critical review, because I liked very little about this book, unfortunately.

The Writing As a caveat, this was originally published in Spanish and, unfortunately, I am not fluent so I had to read this as a translation. As a result, I wanted to leave some space for that knowing that sometimes translations can't fully capture the essence of the original work.

I did end up feeling the writing was quite stilted. At first, I assumed this was a case of the translators potentially doing 1 for 1 word substitutions rather than adapting the text to flow nicely, but the more I kept reading I began to realize that the writing just wasn't very good. There are a lot of trite and prosaic similes and a lot of information that felt irrelevant to the plot. There were many moments I would think, why does that matter? and almost never got an answer for it. 'Things' and 'stuff' were also used as descriptors way more often than I'd expect from a published author.

There are two POVs in this story, but the book doesn't tell you that. The POV switches between the (unnamed) grandmother and the (also unnamed) granddaughter, and you just have to use context clues to determine who is speaking. To make this worse, none of the dialogue in this book has quotation marks. I have read other books that do this—and well—and stylistically I can see the appeal. However, every single main and side character has the exact same personality and vocabulary. To make that even worse, each POV also has the exact same personality and vocabulary despite ~40 years in age separating them. All of this is, yes, confusing but also deeply boring.

Timeline The timeline of this book confused the fuck out of me. The story catalogues 4 generations of women (again, all unnamed): the great grandmother, the grandmother, the mother, and the daughter/granddaughter.

It is mentioned that the grandmother is born in the first several months of the Spanish civil war, which began 1936-1937. It is then mentioned that she had her daughter (the mother) at 20 years old, so around 1957. At the beginning, it's said the mother goes missing after she's given birth but while she is still a teenager. The specific age isn't mentioned, but let's say it's the oldest she could be and assume she went missing at 19. That would mean her daughter would reasonably have to be born around 1976, which places us at the opening of this novel likely some time in the 90s since it's mentioned that the daughter/granddaughter is recently at college age.

So, all that being said, please tell me how it is that the daughter/granddaughter somehow has a smartphone with a flashlight on it, social media, and whatsapp in the 90s. 🤔 I'm honestly shocked an editor didn't catch this?

Plot Woodworm has a lot to say about class disparity, generational trauma, gender inequality, and urban elitism, etc. but it does so with all the subtlety of an anvil falling on a cartoon character's head. It’s all worth saying, but none of it read as authentic to the characters. Instead, it felt like the author was speaking directly to the reader and telling them exactly what they should think/take away from the text. There's no subtext or room for actual reflection, and personally, I don't enjoy being spoon-fed entire themes because the author doesn't trust me to grasp them myself.

Conclusion Despite a couple scenes that were truly creepy, this was a huge letdown. The writing felt contrived, the plot was all over the place, and the social commentary was delivered to the reader like hand grenades.