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juushikaTitle: Sorcerer to the Crown (Sorcerer Royal Book 1)
Author: Zen Cho
Published: New York: Ace, 2015
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 380
Total Page Count: 195,375
Text Number: 577
Read Because: PoC author, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: The first Black Sorcerer to the Crown, Zacharias must deal with the precarity of his position, foreign troubles, an unexpectedly powerful witch, and the slow loss of England's magic. This is a charming fantasy of manners, heavy on the fantasy, with a Regency setting and period-appropriate narrative voice. How historically accurate it is I have no idea, but it's a charming aesthetic. At the same time, it engages racism and sexism, writing from a marginalized perspective but maintaining a stubborn optimism and happy ending, which gives birth to the book's most subtle, effective moments. Sorcerer to the Crown is ultimately too frivolous for me—I want it to be more complex and realistic, or bigger and more playful; and I wish the magic system and fairies were more fantastic. Still, I value what it achieves and I think it's great fun.
It's hard to describe that thing that the book does best, not just to have PoC protagonists but to write from their perspective, but with ruthless narrative optimism. There's a fantastic scene near the end of the when Zacharias says goodbye to his mentor, where he simultaneously remembers, and continues to be affected by, the racism he's faced throughout his life, including from his mentor, and also experiences heartfelt love and loss. His history isn't swept away for the sake of an emotional farewell, it informs his experience, but the emotional farewell, with all its cathartic resolution, persists. Likewise, characters make witty remarks or cleverly problem-solve in the face of explicit prejudice—the thing is expressed, and/but the feel-good (power) fantasy works over it.
A lot of feminist speculative fiction is miserable to read, because in exploring sexism it forces the female readers to experience sexism by proxy—which is not without value, but is exhausting. Honest but uplifting representation is rare, and in keeping with this novel's charming tone. Marginalized representation is precious, but that this represents, engages, and doesn't punish a marginalized audience? I never fell in love with the aesthetic or plot, but that particular element I adore.
Author: Zen Cho
Published: New York: Ace, 2015
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 380
Total Page Count: 195,375
Text Number: 577
Read Because: PoC author, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: The first Black Sorcerer to the Crown, Zacharias must deal with the precarity of his position, foreign troubles, an unexpectedly powerful witch, and the slow loss of England's magic. This is a charming fantasy of manners, heavy on the fantasy, with a Regency setting and period-appropriate narrative voice. How historically accurate it is I have no idea, but it's a charming aesthetic. At the same time, it engages racism and sexism, writing from a marginalized perspective but maintaining a stubborn optimism and happy ending, which gives birth to the book's most subtle, effective moments. Sorcerer to the Crown is ultimately too frivolous for me—I want it to be more complex and realistic, or bigger and more playful; and I wish the magic system and fairies were more fantastic. Still, I value what it achieves and I think it's great fun.
It's hard to describe that thing that the book does best, not just to have PoC protagonists but to write from their perspective, but with ruthless narrative optimism. There's a fantastic scene near the end of the when Zacharias says goodbye to his mentor, where he simultaneously remembers, and continues to be affected by, the racism he's faced throughout his life, including from his mentor, and also experiences heartfelt love and loss. His history isn't swept away for the sake of an emotional farewell, it informs his experience, but the emotional farewell, with all its cathartic resolution, persists. Likewise, characters make witty remarks or cleverly problem-solve in the face of explicit prejudice—the thing is expressed, and/but the feel-good (power) fantasy works over it.
A lot of feminist speculative fiction is miserable to read, because in exploring sexism it forces the female readers to experience sexism by proxy—which is not without value, but is exhausting. Honest but uplifting representation is rare, and in keeping with this novel's charming tone. Marginalized representation is precious, but that this represents, engages, and doesn't punish a marginalized audience? I never fell in love with the aesthetic or plot, but that particular element I adore.
