The Flight: A Monthly Book Sampler (November 2020)

Because my tendency is to fall deep down research rabbit holes or to lose myself in fantastical worlds that bear little resemblance to this (currently, very depressing) one, my goal each year is to get as close to 50-50 as possible with my ratio of non-fiction to fiction. Over the first ten months of the year, I managed to read *way* more non-fiction than fiction. The result is that for November, I read fiction, most of it highly fantastical, almost exclusively. I made one exception and I’m so very glad I did.

The Course of All Treasons, by Suzanne M. Wolfe, is the second book in her Elizabethan Spy Mysteries. You may remember that I finally read the first book in the series, A Murder by Any Name, in September (after having a copy for a couple years) and was annoyed with myself for not reading it sooner. I enjoyed this book just as much. The machinations are multi-layered, the stakes are high, and the characters are interesting. I love the scenes with Queen Elizabeth and Wolfe manages to convey both the pathos of her position as well as her subjects’ rather justified frustration with many of her choices. In many ways, despite the setting and the espionage, the books are the story of found/created family, which is something that appeals across time.

I decided to read Piranesi by Susanna Clarke after seeing so many raving about it. I’ve never gotten around to picking up Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, the debut that made Clarke famous, but after Piranesi, I think I’ll make a point of requesting it from my library. Piranesi is an odd book, but beautiful. I don’t know if I could precisely say that I liked it or enjoyed it, but I definitely appreciated it. There are multiple explicit and implicit references to C. S. Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew, which tells the story of the discovery of words beyond our own and the creation of Narnia (whether it’s the first book in The Chronicles of Narnia or the sixth, is best left to those who debate publication vs. chronological order), from the book’s epigraph, to a character named Ketterley, to the halls of statues like those found in the city of Charn. The Magician’s Nephew has always been my second-favourite Narnia book, so I loved all the references. I think that my problem with the novel is also where it gets its power, from its self-containment. I’ve found myself tending towards stories that have more scope and a more satisfying resolution. But for all that I struggled with it, it’s eminently readable - I found myself flying through it. And that readability, Clarke’s ability to hold my attention and propel me forward, is why I’ll finally be giving Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, which is roughly four times longer, a shot.

Naomi Novik’s Temeraire books have been on my radar for years - probably since just after His Majesty’s Dragon was published, more than a decade ago - but, as I believe I’ve previously mentioned, my TBR is as long as I am tall, and they kept getting bumped down the queue. But when I first read a description of her brand-new novel, Deadly Education, I decided that it deserved to jump to the head of the line. I ended up loving it. The basic premise is that El, the main character, is a student at magic school that has no teachers, but has lots of creatures that regularly kill the students. She’s a cranky, super-powered loner and I love her. The book was a ton of fun to read and the world Novik has built has tons of potential. I’ll definitely be picking up the sequel when it arrives.

After seeing all the rave reviews for N. K. Jemisin’s The Broken Earth trilogy, not to mention the fact that she won the Hugo Award three years in a row with it, I knew that I wanted to read them. The Fifth Season, the first book, was fascinating. I’m not generally a fan of dystopian fiction and the trilogy is about the end of the world, but I was captivated. Jemisin’s ability to build a world and a story across multiple timelines is seriously impressive. The characters are complicated and intriguing. Despite its length (about 450 pages) I ploughed through it and read the whole thing in two sittings because I was so caught up in the story. I’m very much looking forward to reading the next two books and seeing where and how Jemisin ties it all together.

I think at this point, we’ve established that I’m a huge fan of Jim Butcher, the author of The Dresden Files. I was feeling a little bereft after Peace Talks and Battle Ground, so I decided to finally dive into one of Butcher’s other series, Codex Alera. Where Dresden is urban fantasy - wizards and faeries and monsters in modern Chicago - Alera is just straight-up fantasy. Humans with magical powers in a medieval-ish world with kingdoms at stake and various other races and monsters caught up in the drama. It took me a bit to get into Furies of Calderon, the first book, but once I was in, I really enjoyed it. It’s got a very familiar premise to anyone who’s read any amount of fantasy or is familiar with Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey. A young boy stumbles into intrigue and danger far beyond his comprehension and is forced to leave the only home he’s known on a perilous journey in order to save everyone he loves. The main characters are easy to root for, the bad guys are fun to hate, and Butcher’s sense of humour is regularly evident. I’ve already started the next book in the series.

Early in November, I discovered that Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish (of Outlander fame) had co-written a book about the history - and whisky - of Scotland and that they had co-narrated the audiobook. There was exactly 0% chance that I wasn’t going to buy that thing on the spot. I lived in Scotland for two years, loved it, and would move back at the drop of a hat. I’ve been back for visits a few times since I moved back to Canada, but I miss it regularly. I have a Master’s degree in Celtic studies with a focus on Scottish history and Gaidhlig (aka Scots Gaelic). Scottish accents are still my favourite and honestly, I would probably listen to either man read the phone book because they’ve got such great voices. What I wasn’t expecting from Clanlands was how flipping funny it is. Heughan and McTavish have a whole Odd Couple road trip buddy comedy schtick going. Their banter and mutual heckling had me in stitches. In and amongst a range of shenanigans - they wrote the book while filming their upcoming travelogue Men in Kilts - they do a pretty good job of covering some of the most famous bits of the history of the Highlands. It was utterly delightful.