I think this will be DNF for now, at least the audio book. I found the many of narrator's (author's?) voices grating. I may pick up the book another time.

this novella in the Dark Breakers universe is really just a confection, mashing up socialites with hallucinatory excursions, adopting the form of a quest, essaying romance and descending to hallucinatory faerie underworlds. i have some issues with her attempt to deal with late capitalism within this venue (seems to me she absent-mindedly drives her miners in the wrong direction) but the wonder of all her writing is the imagination that drives it, and her glorious detailed descriptions of these anarchic worlds she creates. ( )

Absolutely an impulse advance order under the influence of book twitter. I'm still not sure what pushed me over the edge in my buying decision, as goblins and mysterious kingdoms aren't really my usual reading fare. It may just have been how charmed I am with Cooney's online persona -- which hasn't always been a great guide to finding books I enjoyed in the past.

But still, I ordered it, and eagerly scampered to the bookstore to pick it up when it came in. I confess, I had some concerns in the first chapter with all its opulent extravagant 1% splendor. But it isn't long before Desdemona's eyes are opened to the dark costs of all her riches. From there it is a bit of a rocket ride.

There is a LOT of world building and myth spinning to cram into this slim little book, and sometimes it felt a tad clunky or rushed -- but like I said, I don't read much fae/goblin fantasy and I may just be unfamiliar with the conventions and tropes. That said, Cooney weaves bright lines between the familiar and the novel -- the sharp glitter danger of the gentry, the earthy tricks of the goblins, and the river that reveals your true form.

But what I really loved was the language. It's been described everywhere as poetic, and that is true, but what struck me was its sensuality -- which I mean only a tiny bit as sexiness, but mostly the way the sights, the scents, the feels, the tastes, come across with intensity. Desdemona is dubbed tattercoats because she throws on every fur in the house before crossing the first world boundary (I have some feelings about this, but we'll skip it for now) and at times the furs are hot, sweaty, oppressive, but later they are a part of her -- swishy, expressive, and delightful. I may not have worn any furs in my lifetime, but it was like I could feel them brushing against my legs both ways.

But really, it was the resolution that sent me head over heels for this book. The way everything was wrapped up -- its love poem to freedom, collective and individual action, to rescuing who you can, when you can, to finding your true self. Every reservation, every little thing "I would have done differently" was won over and I put this book down with a perfectly enraptured sense of satisfaction.

LOVE. ( )

(...)

Sadly, Cooney doesn’t really explore these issues – they are important for the general set up of the storyline, but it’s all a black and white affair, no grey at all. Who doesn’t oppose a rich mine boss sacrificing hundreds of lives to find a new oil field? Who doesn’t oppose working conditions leaving people severely maimed? Similarly, the transgender character’s feelings are hardly portrayed – on the contrary, it’s a shallow, flat character that behaves as no real people do: it falls in love instantly, rescinding a regular life for something completely unknown, all because of a character it knows for a couple of hours.

But of course, these are not real people – these are characters in a 2019 fairy tale. One could argue to cut the fairy tale – as a genre – some slack: it’s supposed to be black and white. It’s supposed to be that way because – from Grimm onward – published fairy tales were meant for children, and children need their moral lessons spelled out to them loud and clear. Pondering upon the difficult childhood of the witch or the carnivorous nature of the wolf would only confuse our toddlers. Yet while Desdemona And The Deep has a YA feel at times, its audience is not children – the language is to difficult for that.

(...)

Please read the full review on Weighing A Pig Doesn't Fatten It ( )