4.25

The writing was incredibly vivid and engaging. I felt completely immersed, as if I were living alongside the characters, feeling the powerlessness in Spain, dancing during the Carnival of Venice and attending Bridgerton-like balls in London.

The novel is entirely character-driven, with very distinct and memorable voices. It is richly layered with themes such as patriarchy, freedom and power, queer identity, and religion, all of which evolve over the centuries covered in the story. I especially appreciated the portrayal of the women, who are all shaped by the constraints of their respective eras, yet each grows up with a little more freedom than the one before her.

My minor criticisms would be that I wanted more from Sabine. Her character development felt somewhat lacking, as she comes across as power-hungry and hardened from the very beginning, leaving little room for growth. Additionally, the book felt slightly too long. It could have been about 100 pages shorter without losing substance. In particular, the flashbacks to Catty felt overly drawn out and quite predictable.

”As if love and horror could not go hand in hand.”

This book is to be devoured and at the same time devours. I found myself constantly reaching for more, and more, and more, lost within its world, my insatiable hunger for the pages within causing well-thought plans to be shifted and set aside for later. Each chapter satisfied yet always left me wanting more, and more, and more.

The characters were tangible, fully realized, unpredictable in a way that could’ve been predicted if you analyzed them, if you read them half as well as some of them read one another. There was no restraint in making these women—and men—messy and unpleasant and gruesome and beautiful, so beautiful, despite all their horror. Their lives changed, morphed, transformed through the influences of their experiences, their environments, their compatriots and enemies alike. Round, dynamic characters are something I long for in the media I indulge in. I would be remiss to say that this book did not let me indulge in exactly that.

The writing—brief streams-of-consciousness, the stylistic shifts between characters—was a delight to behold, the pacing was masterful.

There were some parts that shined less brightly, but did not dim my own enjoyment of the novel—such as the occasional jarring cultural divide between character and author. However, I’d feast again on this enthralling carcass any day, bones and all.

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil is my first read from this author, and I will certainly consider dipping my toes into more of Schwab’s work.