3.79 average Ā Ā·Ā 93 reviews
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This is one of those books that doesnāt just tell a story ā it breathes it. Reading it feels less like moving from page to page and more like drifting, like being carried across water by language that knows exactly where itās going, even when you donāt.
The writing is the heart of this novel. It is mesmerising, poetic, and deeply intentional in a way that feels rare. The prose moves effortlessly between registers: at times it reads like an academic paper, precise and observational; at others like a folktale passed down by firelight, mythic and intimate; and then suddenly, achingly human, slipping into first-person voices that feel like confessions. These shifts never feel gimmicky. Instead, they mirror the way memory, history, and storytelling actually work ā layered, fragmented, communal. The structure itself becomes meaning.
What struck me most is how confident the writing is. It trusts the reader to sit with ambiguity, to pause, to breathe, to remember. It allows silence and slowness. It invites you to stay. There is a hypnotic quality to following the story this way, as perspectives rotate and overlap, as we sometimes observe from the outside and sometimes find ourselves uncomfortably inside the story, implicated simply by reading. It is a deeply unique approach to fantasy ā not driven by spectacle, but by voice, by rhythm, by interiority.
Thematically, this book is an exploration of found family, sisterhood, loneliness, and the quiet devastation ā and beauty ā of letting go. It asks what it means to belong, who gets to decide that belonging, and what it costs to love when love does not guarantee permanence. Relationships are not framed as possessions, but as moments of choosing: choosing to stay, choosing to leave, choosing to remember. There is a tenderness to the way connection is handled, paired with an understanding that love does not always mean proximity, and that sometimes the deepest acts of care involve release.
The worldbuilding unfolds gently, almost sideways. Rather than overwhelming the reader, it reveals itself through myth, memory, and lived experience. Characters feel less like constructs and more like echoes ā people shaped by place, by community, by fear and hope and longing. They linger long after the page is turned, not because of grand gestures, but because of the emotional truth they carry.
This is not a book you rush through. Itās one you live inside for a while, one that asks you to slow down and feel ā grief, wonder, connection, ache. Itās a story about stories, about the way we hold onto each other, and about what remains when we cannot. By the time it ends, it feels like youāve spent a lifetime there.
And somehow, youāre grateful for every second.
The worldbuilding is super immersive, and the magic system is clever and fun. I loved how magic is used in everyday tasks; it makes the world feel alive and full of possibilities.
The characters are fantastic. Monaās inner dialogue is witty and relatable, and the supporting cast is memorable and full of charm. I especially appreciated how the story shows that being āthe heroā isnāt always glamorous; it comes with real challenges, which made the characters feel even more real.
The writing style is smooth, clever, and perfectly balances humour and heart. I laughed, cried, got invested, and was hooked the entire time. Overall, itās a magical, funny, and heartwarming read that Iād highly recommend to fantasy fans.
I love T. Kingfisher so much. Thereās just something about the way she writes that immediately pulls me in. I feel like Iām there the moment I start reading, I feel immersed, comfortable, and strangely welcomed into the world she creates, even when I barely know whatās going on yet.
The atmosphere she creates in her books is one of my favourite things. Itās so vivid and alive, even in such a short story like Thornhedge. I donāt really understand how she manages to build something that feels this complete in so few pages, but it works so effortlessly. The world feels real, lived-in, and consistent in a way thatās really impressive.
I also really love her fairy tale style. The way she reimagines classic fairy tales and twists them into something new, but still emotionally familiar, is just so satisfying to read. This Sleeping Beauty retelling felt especially strong in that way, completely transformed, but still somehow recognisable in its bones. And I really love her use of fae and folklore elements. I always enjoy stories that lean more into traditional, slightly unsettling folklore fae!
The pacing felt really nice too. I wasnāt reading it for high stakes or tension, but more for the experience of the story itself and being in the main characterās perspective. And that was one of my favourite parts, her inner voice and how we experience everything through her felt really immersive and intimate. The characters were beautifully done. The main character especially felt so real, and her thoughts and insecurities were incredibly compelling to follow. And I also really loved the interactions with Halim, so gentle, so careful, and surprisingly funny at times in that very understated way.
Overall, it was just such a comforting, atmospheric, and immersive read. It felt soft, a little eerie at times, but ultimately very warm.
I love that Holton decided to give women a different history when it comes to education and academia, and it made me curious about the actual history behind it. So naturally, I ended up doing a little research (I do really like researching things...)
First of all, Caroline Herschel was a real person! She was a German-born astronomer who lived from 1750 to 1848. She worked alongside her brother William Herschel, but also made some pretty impressive discoveries of her own:
- She discovered eight comets between 1786 and 1797, becoming the first woman known to have discovered a comet.
- In 1787, King George III granted her an annual salary of Ā£50 for her scientific work, making her the first woman in Britain to receive a state salary for scientific research.
- In 1828, she became the first woman to receive the Gold Medal of the Astronomical Society.
- In 1835, she became one of the first female honorary members of the Royal Astronomical Society.
I love that Holton chose an actual female scientist for this alternative history, especially someone who achieved so much at a time when women had very limited opportunities in academia!
As for women's access to universities in Britain, that developed quite differently in reality. Here are a few important dates I found:
- 1849: Bedford College was founded in London, offering higher education to women.
- 1869: Girton College, the first residential college for women's higher education in Britain, was founded.
- 1878: The University of London became the first British university to admit women to its degrees.
- 1920: Women were finally granted full membership and degrees at Oxford.
- 1948: Cambridge followed, allowing women full university membership and degrees.
What I find particularly interesting is that women were already studying and taking examinations at places like Oxford and Cambridge long before they were actually allowed to receive degrees. Being able to study and being officially recognised for it were apparently two very different things.
But back to the book! I really appreciate Holton's approach to historical fantasy here. I feel like quite a few fantasy books introduce magic, fantastical creatures, and all sorts of changes to historical settings, but still stick relatively closely to historical gender roles and restrictions. And there's nothing inherently wrong with that, of course, but I think it's really interesting when authors choose to reimagine those aspects of history as well!
I like that Beth can be this incredibly intelligent, accomplished young professor without her gender being the main obstacle she has to overcome. And I love the idea of imagining how things might have developed if women had been given these opportunities much earlier.
Sources:
How to Be Eaten
Maria Adelmann
Dead Beat (Ninth House Series Book 3)
Leigh Bardugo
As a German, I obviously had to look this up haha. I'd never actually heard of a Nachtzehrer before, so I did a little research and thought I'd share some interesting things I found!
First, a little note about the name: In the book, it's called a Nachtzehrer, but the more common German name is actually Nachzehrer, without the t. Both versions exist, but while Nachtzehrer literally translates to "night eater," Nachzehrer refers more to someone who continues consuming or draining life after death.
So, what exactly is a Nachzehrer?
In German folklore, it's a type of WiedergƤnger (revenant), a deceased person believed to continue harming the living. It's closely related to vampire folklore, but there are some pretty interesting differences!
- They don't have to leave their graves! Unlike vampires, Nachzehrer were believed to remain buried while draining the life force of their surviving relatives or other members of their community.
- They supposedly chew on their burial shrouds. According to some legends, they would consume the cloth they were buried in, or even parts of their own bodies. As they did so, their living relatives would supposedly grow weaker and eventually die.
- They were associated with the plague and other epidemics. When several members of a family or community died in quick succession, people sometimes believed that one of the deceased was responsible.
- There were ways to stop them. People sometimes opened graves and attempted to prevent the supposedly dangerous dead from harming the living. Various protective practices existed, including placing objects in the mouth of a corpse or otherwise preventing it from moving.
One thing I found particularly interesting is that people were already writing about these beliefs centuries ago! In 1679, Philipp Rohr published a Latin dissertation about the supposed phenomenon of dead people chewing in their graves. And in 1728, Michael Ranft published another work on the same subject, titled De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis, or On the Chewing and Smacking of the Dead in Graves.
Of course, there are possible natural explanations for some of these stories. The decomposition of bodies can cause changes in their appearance, which might have led people to believe that corpses had been moving or chewing on their burial clothes.
I find it fascinating how much of European vampire folklore is connected to people's attempts to explain death, disease, and things they didn't understand at the time.
Anyway, I always love coming across little references to folklore in fantasy books, and I thought this one was particularly interesting! Especially since I'd never heard of this creature despite being German myself.
Sources:
This community has been so inclusive and thoughtful! I'd love to have a little moment where we can shout out members of the community that we appreciate, call out some kindness, that kind of thing.
Who has made a difference in making you feel welcome?
helli commented...
Every time I read a book like this with horrible parents, Iām just so grateful for my own parents. Thank you Mama and Papa for always loving me as I am and for never making that love conditional š©·
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helli commented...
@notbillnye, @jordynreads, and @marissa were the three people I remember interacting with the most when I first joined, or at least the first ones who regularly interacted with me. They were all so genuinely kind, welcoming, and encouraging (and they still are!!), and those early interactions really made me feel at home on PB. Iāve had so many lovely interactions with people here since, and I feel so grateful for this little corner of the internet!! š©·