Yes, this is a story that grabs you by the throat from the very first line and rarely lets up from there. A public execution is swiftly followed by the resumption of daily life. This is Timbuktu, a land so rich in resources and reached by so many different peoples that it’s inevitable new plunderers, war mongers, soldiers and kings regularly conquer it. The people shrug and move on with their lives. As long as business continues on unimpeded and unchanged, who cares whose face is on the money?
This feeling of resignation permeates the lives of the main character, Alálè. In spite of resigning herself to the life of a cursed blacksmith, she is secretly terrified of it because it’s a hard existence that wears down the women who pursue it.
The author brings us into this alien world, a place where women practice a field commonly associated with men and yet are reviled for it. This is a world of swift and brutal conquest alongside the lively chatter of the marketplace. This is a world of vibrant and sharp contrasts: harsh desert lands that can be negotiated only by nomadic tribes and lush greenery like something out of an Arabian Nights tale. Indeed, Alálè seems caught herself between the sweetness of sentiment (crafting and re-creating a flower she was once given that died in two days) and the stark reality of a life that will be brutish and short.
Since it’s stated as loosely based on the Persephone myth, I’m eager to see what happens next to our heroine of dual spirit.
This feeling of resignation permeates the lives of the main character, Alálè. In spite of resigning herself to the life of a cursed blacksmith, she is secretly terrified of it because it’s a hard existence that wears down the women who pursue it.
The author brings us into this alien world, a place where women practice a field commonly associated with men and yet are reviled for it. This is a world of swift and brutal conquest alongside the lively chatter of the marketplace. This is a world of vibrant and sharp contrasts: harsh desert lands that can be negotiated only by nomadic tribes and lush greenery like something out of an Arabian Nights tale. Indeed, Alálè seems caught herself between the sweetness of sentiment (crafting and re-creating a flower she was once given that died in two days) and the stark reality of a life that will be brutish and short.
Since it’s stated as loosely based on the Persephone myth, I’m eager to see what happens next to our heroine of dual spirit.