Review: Eolyn, by Karin Rita Gastreich

Release Date: 2011 (this book is eligible for nomination for the Nebula and Hugo awards)

Genre: Fantasy

Eolyn, the debut novel by Karin Rita Gastreich, is an epic fantasy adventure with rich worldbuilding and a strong romance subplot, and the eponymous story of a girl who is the last remaining maga (trained magic-user) of a long tradition of women’s magic in a world which has brutally purged and repressed that tradition. She survives an attack on her village, takes refuge in the ancient woods with an old crone who has also survived the purges, and is trained in the arts of magic. While growing up, she meets a mysterious boy in the woods who comes and goes; he too is learning magic. They become friends and as they grow, begin to have inklings that they could be more than friends to one another. But when Eolyn undertakes her final training in High Magic, their paths must part, though both swear to see each other again.

Eolyn’s mentor dies and leaves her alone, so that she must leave the forest that has sheltered them and go out into the world. She meets and joins up with a troupe of performers led by a mage, all the while hiding who she truly is. But secrets can’t be kept forever and the forces of rebellion and civil war begin to swirl around her and her companions. Eolyn must make tough choices and stay true to herself and her commitment to her magic, even when she discovers who her childhood love has become: the powerful Mage-King of this country who has systematically destroyed women like her.

As a reader, there are certain topics or themes I really like in a book, certain tropes I particularly love no matter how many times I encounter them. Eolyn has a great many of my favorite fantasy tropes: innocent girls with good morals and big destinies, strong women surviving in and subverting an oppressive system, love of forests and the natural world, wise mentors, star-crossed lovers, dragons, circus performers, tough decisions, sacrifices for the greater good, bad guys who think they’re doing the right thing, complex magic systems...I could go on and on. The thing that made this book a joy to read and not just another familiar, commonplace fantasy novel is that each of these tropes were thoughtfully and deftly handled by Gastreich, often tweaked in satisfying and unexpected ways, and not just invoked as trite clichés that don’t offer anything new or interesting to a reader. The characters were dimensional and sometimes flawed, and they and their motivations generally felt realistic (even the villains had justifiable-to-them reasons for doing what they did, which I appreciate). Even the setting is an enjoyable, thorough, well-thought out, realistic and richly detailed version of your standard medieval European fantasy world. It made me want to explore it more and find out more about some of the things that Gastreich only offers tantalizing hints about in passing.

I especially appreciated the feminist themes and questions of this book, which echo real life themes and questions in our world. (And isn’t that precisely what good speculative fiction should do?) In the context of this particular fantasy world, Gastreich comments on sexism, sexuality, autonomy and personal choices, work vs. relationships, our relationship to our bodies and the natural world, and more. Her romance between Eolyn and the Mage-King feels true in its messiness and difficulties, and not just like a stereotypical fairytale.

The only trope/part of the book that wasn’t fabulously successful to me was the part where we discover that Eolyn’s brother—whom she thought dead—is the one leading the rebellion against the Mage-King, and the inevitable pitting of her loyalty to her brother against her loyalty to her new friends, her loyalty to her magic, and her feelings about the man she thinks she loves. To me at least, the brother, Ernan, wasn’t quite as dimensional or interesting of a character as the others, and thus I felt less engaged in Eolyn’s choices around what to do and whom to do it with. Because the whole rebellion seemed to spring up quickly and without a lot of buildup, I also felt a little rushed into the last part of the book, with its epic battle scenes and heroic trip to the underworld (even though they were beautifully written). Considering that this feels like “epic” fantasy, it’s actually a relatively short book—I would have liked to spend a little more time in this world and with these characters before getting to the big climax.

Overall Impressions: 

I very much enjoyed this book. As I said before, this book really “hit my buttons” as a fantasy reader, and if you like well written epic fantasy, romance, and the same tropes I like (innocent girls with good morals and big destinies, strong women surviving in and subverting an oppressive system, love of forests and the natural world, wise mentors, star-crossed lovers, dragons, circus performers, tough decisions, sacrifices for the greater good, bad guys who think they’re doing the right thing, complex magic systems, etc.), you’ll like it too.

Chick Points:

[We award "chick points" from 1 (lowest) to 5 (highest) for each book we read. Point awards are of course totally subjective, but we hope they at least give a flavor of where a book stands on specific feminist subjects.]

Strong Female Characters: @@@@@ (5 points out of 5)

In addition to Eolyn, who is a very well drawn and strong female protagonist, there were many other intriguing and powerful women in this book (I really liked Eolyn’s mentor Ghemena as well as some of Eolyn’s fellow performers in the Circle. In fact, I wish Gastreich would write a book just about the Circle so I could get some more backstory and more of the interactions between those women.)

Treatment of Women in the Book: @@@@@ (5 points out of 5)

This book explicitly took on issues of being a woman in a man’s culture, and what it felt like to have your own reality and power denied and repressed by the culture. I could have happily entertained even more explicit treatment of these issues during the book, but respect that Gastreich was balancing philosophy with plot needs and that too much philosophizing would have slowed the book down.

Appearance of Women in the Cover Art: @@@@ (4 points out of 5)

The cover features Eolyn as a young woman, pausing on her way traveling out of her woods and into the rest of her life. I like the artwork, and appreciate its realism (no impossibly-posed, big-boobed women with swords here), even down to the dirt on her bare feet. However, it is a contemplative scene, and she appears very small in relation to the rest of the artwork. I would have preferred something that showed Eolyn more active, more alive and impressive. 

BUY THIS BOOK: Eolyn, by Karin Rita Gastreich

Review: Finder, by Terri-Lynne DeFino

Finder, by Terri-Lynne DeFino

Release date: November 2010

Genre: Fantasy

Set in a richly imagined, Middle-Eastern flavored fantasy world, Finder is at heart a complicated, decades-long love story between Ethen and Zihariel, two star-crossed lovers from very different backgrounds. Ethen is the eponymous hero with a special power: he can “find” any sort of objects or people just by concentrating on them. During the course of the book he transforms from a streetwise urchin to a rich and relatively respectable middle-aged man. Zihariel is a beautiful woman with an amazing power all her own: an incredible gift for music. She begins the book as the pampered, sheltered slave of a rich merchant (her people have been systematically “purged” from Ethen’s native land and turned into slaves), who shows her off like a prize songbird for others’ pleasure—but Zihariel finally runs away, and Ethen is hired to “find” her.

Ethen tracks Zihariel down, but once he finds her, he also finds something totally unexpected: love. He no longer wants to fulfill his Finder’s contract, but what can they do, where can they flee? Nowhere seems safe for an escaped slave. Together, they set off on a series of adventures that bring them to the mighty city of Bosbana. Once there, just when things seem to finally be going right and we begin to hope that the lovers can craft a life together, both Ethen and Zihariel each independently decide that in order to keep their loved one safe, they’ll have to leave that loved one behind. This leads into the second half of the book, eighteen years later, when both have grown and changed and yet through the whim of fate, they meet up again and have to fumble their way back from pain and sorrow and distance to rediscover the connection and love they once shared.

Yes, there’s a plot here too, involving (among other things) illegal spice trafficking, blackmail, forbidden relationships and tangled politics, and it’s deftly handled even when we start to see the reveals coming before they happen; but the core of this book is a true-feeling and moving love story complicated by culture, time and individual psychology.

I loved the world-building of this book, and its beautiful Middle-Eastern feel (a refreshing change from the more frequent generic European medieval fantasy setting we all know and love). DeFino is terrific at throwing in interesting names and details (even down to food and drink) that add flavor and a sense of place without having to go into big explanatory info-dumps about the way things are.

I also enjoyed the way that DeFino used a love story to address complex, significant issues like slavery and freedom, trust and betrayal, family and loyalty, loss and sacrifice, self-worth and self-determination. This was a book that took a good clear look at some of the big obstacles we encounter in relationships, and did so in a compelling, honest way.

DeFino’s characters are also people I enjoyed coming to know and empathizing with. No one is perfect, everyone has their flaws, but overall their hopes and fears and desires and motivations felt realistic and reasonable to me. I especially liked Ethen and Zihariel, of course, but I also thought the author did a great job with her supporting cast (lots of interesting people in this world!) It was a rare treat to experience within the course of one book the way that characters grow over time and change as a result of their choices—I thought DeFino handled this well.

On a personal note, I also always appreciate characters who are artists of some sort—I thought Zihariel’s relationship with her music was fascinating, and I really felt for her when she lost her music and celebrated with her when she got it back.

There were a few things I got impatient about as the book progressed, because I’d already guessed how things would play out or who certain people were, but I didn’t mind too much because I was enjoying the journey even if I was pretty sure I knew the destination. And there were some good plot twists that surprised me too.

Overall Impressions: I very much enjoyed this book, and would certainly recommend it. If you like love stories and you also like well-written, imaginative fantasy worlds peopled with interesting, sympathetic characters, this is a book for you. I hear there’s a sequel in the works and I am looking forward to it!

Chick Points:

[We award "chick points" from 1 (lowest) to 5 (highest) for each book we read. Point awards are of course totally subjective, but we hope they at least give a flavor of where a book stands on specific feminist subjects.]

Strong Female Characters: @@@@@ (5 points out of 5)

Even though the main character of this book was Ethen, there were many other strong, well-rounded and interesting female characters in this book, including of course Zihariel.  I also really liked Augnesse and Cesilee.

Treatment of Women in the Book: @@@@@ (5 points out of 5)

This book certainly did touch on women’s issues and women’s roles, and did so in a satisfying and realistic way, even if ultimately women in the societies in this world have many of the same issues of inequality and lack of power or respect that they have in our own. But these inequalities were, if not confronted, at least not taken for granted, and I appreciated that.

Appearance of Women in the Cover Art: N/A

Only Ethen appears on the cover, so this doesn’t really apply. I would have maybe liked to see both Ethen and Zihariel on the cover, but really it was Ethen’s story so I’m ok with him being the only one on the cover.

Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti, by Genevieve Valentine

THE MECHANICAL CIRCUS TRESAULTI
FINEST SPECTACLE ANYWHERE
MECHANICAL MEN beyond IMAGINATION
Astounding feats of ACROBATICS
The Finest HUMAN CURIOSITIES
the World has ever SEEN
STRONGMEN, DANCING GIRLS
& LIVING ENGINES
FLYING GIRLS, LIGHTER than AIR
MUSIC from the HUMAN ORCHESTRA
BARGAIN ENTERTAINMENT for ONE and ALL
~ No Weapons Allowed ~

As the story opens, you find yourself in a circus, with the lights, the ticket decorated with a golden griffin in your hand.  The show is on, and the world outside is drifting away.  As you read on, you begin to realize that for the performers in this novel, the outside world is a vague place, a world where boundaries go unseen and where things beyond the confines of the traveling Circus Tresaulti have no meaning and no reality; it is a world of sliding time-spaces; as a reader, you are always certain where you are, but that location is constantly changing.  The story runs like a long passageway, with rooms off it that we explore, as we wander down its length, and can take place at any time during the history of the Circus Tresaulti.  The combination of these two qualities  balance out: the claustrophobia of the close-knit community of the circus, the delicate balance of the social structure -- and sometimes sanity -- of its members are weighed against the looseness, the cobweb lightness of the narrative's billowing timeline and the cloudiness of the surrounding environments through which the circus travels. 

The center of the narrative, the string which we follow past all the sideshows of the many small histories, is Little George, rescued from a war-torn world when he was only a child so that he could run all the small jobs of the circus: the poster-pasting, the ticket-taking, the message-running.  At the heart of Circus Tresaulti, on the other hand, is Boss, the woman who sculpted each of its members from broken, or even dying, people; with her copper pipes for bones, her clockwork mechanisms to replace muscles, lungs and even a heart or two, the members of the circus are able to fly higher, perform more brightly and, in the end, become more than human.  But there is a price: they become detached from the rest of the warring world, existing only within and for the circus, devoting their lives to it.  Once changed, they cannot leave; they are tied to it, and to Boss, and to each other, forever. 

There are power struggles in the world beyond the walls of tents and trailers, however, and someone is bound, eventually, to notice them as something more than performers; when the safety of one of their members is threatened, the rest of them have to decide whether to come out into the world in a rescue -- and become something different, something more connected -- or to see the circus broken apart and, possibly, meet their own eventual ends.  Along the way, the loose cobweb of a narrative narrows and focuses, drawing itself ever tighter and more steely -- like the ribs of a cage, or of the metallic performers -- until you find yourself stuck to the book, gripped by the net of the story, uncaring of the hour.

The only things which even slightly interrupted my slide down the smooth slope of the narrative were a few things were left unsaid.  It is clear that the performers have strong needs and emotions, but it is not always clear what they are feeling, or why.  I found myself rebuffed from the glowering embers of Stenos' hatred, or the gleam of Bird's madness, merely because so many of their interactions were wordless exchanges of unreadable emotion.  But this is a small thing, easily forgiven in the flow of story.

Here are some things I find surprising in this book: 

That the world outside is nothing but a series of endless wars, leader followed by dictator followed by junta, endlessly destructive, endlessly violent, and all alike, blurring into a single, continuous centuries-long event.

That Ms. Valentine so seamlessly blends flesh and machine, mechanics and magic, life and death in a way that never once falls into trope.  The changed performers, while no longer exactly human, became neither godlike nor zombielike, but instead, more interdependent -- and, in an odd way, more vulnerable.

That she captures, so quickly and carefully, the personalities, conflicts, aches and desires of the people in a circus troupe, without explanation, without apparent effort, and with a deft eye for the enforced clarity and conscious lack of awareness necessary in a tiny, close-knit community.

The truth she brings to the characters: women are as real, visceral, needful and passionate as men, but totally different; and the effect of having parts of oneself become machine by nature do not pass without their imprint on the soul.

And lastly, Ms. Valentine's extraordinary power to make you sit up and pay attention to her wanderings. This is based partly in her queer and tangible subject matter, partly in her ability to weave dreams, and partly in some odd trick of words, words which lead like an old track through a meadow to secret places: you want to follow them, they intrigue you, even if the clues are faint and meandering. And then, like a fine circus act, she draws you up tight, bringing the slow and lovely performance up into a breathtaking, even painful, series of moves that delight and satisfy the reader.

Strong Female Characters: @@@@@ (5 points out of 5)
I liked Bird very much: the woman who is destroyed over and over and still keeps her self; and Elena is a force to be reckoned with.  However, Boss holds the keys to the circus, so to speak, and her combination of willpower and democratic leadership is worth reading about.


Treatment of Women in the Book: @@@@@ (5 points out of 5)
The women in the circus are creatures of will and autonomy, who are conscious of their choices and who are as vulnerable and badass as any women we could hope to read about.

Appearance of Women in the Cover Art:  Moot (no people at all)