Tuesday, 20 June 2023 10:00 pm
Book Review: Monsters Born and Made
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deckardcanineHow unusual for me to read a brand-new (2022) novel from someone who has yet to publish another, namely Tanvi Berwah. I must have seen it on a list of recommendations when I added it to my wish list. Well, I figured if I didn't like it, at least a 335-page young-adult story would take me less time than usual to finish.
This fantasy does not involve magic, just fictitious geography, fauna, and minerals. Inhabitants of the ten islands of Ophir know that their ancestors migrated from somewhere, but they have no hope of reaching another land. The archipelago features harsh sunlight by day and an uptick in deadly creatures by night, only slightly more hospitable than the Scholomance. Nevertheless, the humans lucky enough to be born in the Lander class enjoy plenty of luxury, almost never going outside. The ones who don't take survival for granted are the Renters.
First-person, present-tense narrator Koral is a 16-year-old Renter from the only family of Hunters, whose job is to capture, subdue, and sell maristags. As the name implies, maristags resemble amphibious deer, but they're much deadlier than that sounds. While never fully tamed, they can serve to pull chariots in the quadrennial Glory Race.
When it looks like the Hunters won't be able to find any more maristags for the season, Koral decides instead to enter the Glory Race, which almost everyone thinks is a bad idea for several reasons: (1) Few Landers tolerate a Renter at that level, (2) she has to cheat to secure a spot, (3) she's had nowhere near the practice of other charioteers, (4) there's no second prize, and (5) death is a common fate for racers. Koral keeps insisting she has no choice, but others point out options that are simply less palatable to her: begging, crime, marriage of convenience. Her main assets are a well-chosen maristag, whom she dubs Stormgold, and her experience swimming with monsters.
Only when I was well into the book did I realize it must be cut from the same cloth as The Hunger Games, which I've never read. It's certainly full of misery and unfairness, with the teens getting little support from adults. Even the few gains the Hunters make are hard to savor in light of their price.
Perhaps it's more a product of the present era than THG, because from Koral's perspective...well, consider the title. She comes to have a lower opinion of most humans than of most nonhumans, however threatening. For a time, I thought the outlook was sexist (the three fathers we know of are abusive or negligent), but the women can be just as bad, not least the reigning Landmaster, who might as well be called the Puppetmaster. It's not just Landers either; other Renters resent the Hunters' scanty privileges, despite the position being involuntary. Koral can't get behind the rebels, because they provoke retribution against all Renters. Even her brother, mother, and closest friend can get on her nerves. No wonder she repeatedly screams nonverbally in rage. The only person she consistently likes is her kid sister, who manages some cheer in the face of chronic illness.
Koral does admit her own faults to herself, if only after others point them out. Her presence in the race provokes riots, raising the question of whether she's indirectly hurting more innocent people than she's trying to help.
Koral's most complicated interactions are with Dorian, the crowd favorite. She once thought of him as a friend, but he was strong-armed into the role of an arrogant snob, to the point that she wished she'd never been generous to him. Dorian wants Koral out of the race, but he doesn't hate her; if anything, he worries about her. He just doesn't get to show it the way he'd like to. Will they ever repair what they had, if not progress to a new level?
I was surprised to discover modern and then futuristic technology, partly because only the Landers have it and partly because their values seem fit for a past century. It later occurred to me that Berwah comes from India, which is known for a strict, nonfluid set of social strata. Readers from that part of the world may well feel less shocked than a middle-class American. The cover does describe the tale as "South Asian-inspired."
The writing quality is admirable, but since I get quite enough frustration at injustice from reality, this wasn't really my jam. What I liked best were the descriptions of the creatures, which aren't simply mix-and-match like in Greek myths. Stormgold is actually pretty endearing when she doesn't take Koral for a foe. The action sequences aren't bad either, with apt pacing.
A sequel, Somewhere in the Deep, is slated for next year. I might read it for the sake of closure. I won't count on things getting better for Koral, but they can't get much worse than before.
Now starting Night Watch. Terry Pratchett gets cynical too, but at least he tries to be funny about it.
This fantasy does not involve magic, just fictitious geography, fauna, and minerals. Inhabitants of the ten islands of Ophir know that their ancestors migrated from somewhere, but they have no hope of reaching another land. The archipelago features harsh sunlight by day and an uptick in deadly creatures by night, only slightly more hospitable than the Scholomance. Nevertheless, the humans lucky enough to be born in the Lander class enjoy plenty of luxury, almost never going outside. The ones who don't take survival for granted are the Renters.
First-person, present-tense narrator Koral is a 16-year-old Renter from the only family of Hunters, whose job is to capture, subdue, and sell maristags. As the name implies, maristags resemble amphibious deer, but they're much deadlier than that sounds. While never fully tamed, they can serve to pull chariots in the quadrennial Glory Race.
When it looks like the Hunters won't be able to find any more maristags for the season, Koral decides instead to enter the Glory Race, which almost everyone thinks is a bad idea for several reasons: (1) Few Landers tolerate a Renter at that level, (2) she has to cheat to secure a spot, (3) she's had nowhere near the practice of other charioteers, (4) there's no second prize, and (5) death is a common fate for racers. Koral keeps insisting she has no choice, but others point out options that are simply less palatable to her: begging, crime, marriage of convenience. Her main assets are a well-chosen maristag, whom she dubs Stormgold, and her experience swimming with monsters.
Only when I was well into the book did I realize it must be cut from the same cloth as The Hunger Games, which I've never read. It's certainly full of misery and unfairness, with the teens getting little support from adults. Even the few gains the Hunters make are hard to savor in light of their price.
Perhaps it's more a product of the present era than THG, because from Koral's perspective...well, consider the title. She comes to have a lower opinion of most humans than of most nonhumans, however threatening. For a time, I thought the outlook was sexist (the three fathers we know of are abusive or negligent), but the women can be just as bad, not least the reigning Landmaster, who might as well be called the Puppetmaster. It's not just Landers either; other Renters resent the Hunters' scanty privileges, despite the position being involuntary. Koral can't get behind the rebels, because they provoke retribution against all Renters. Even her brother, mother, and closest friend can get on her nerves. No wonder she repeatedly screams nonverbally in rage. The only person she consistently likes is her kid sister, who manages some cheer in the face of chronic illness.
Koral does admit her own faults to herself, if only after others point them out. Her presence in the race provokes riots, raising the question of whether she's indirectly hurting more innocent people than she's trying to help.
Koral's most complicated interactions are with Dorian, the crowd favorite. She once thought of him as a friend, but he was strong-armed into the role of an arrogant snob, to the point that she wished she'd never been generous to him. Dorian wants Koral out of the race, but he doesn't hate her; if anything, he worries about her. He just doesn't get to show it the way he'd like to. Will they ever repair what they had, if not progress to a new level?
I was surprised to discover modern and then futuristic technology, partly because only the Landers have it and partly because their values seem fit for a past century. It later occurred to me that Berwah comes from India, which is known for a strict, nonfluid set of social strata. Readers from that part of the world may well feel less shocked than a middle-class American. The cover does describe the tale as "South Asian-inspired."
The writing quality is admirable, but since I get quite enough frustration at injustice from reality, this wasn't really my jam. What I liked best were the descriptions of the creatures, which aren't simply mix-and-match like in Greek myths. Stormgold is actually pretty endearing when she doesn't take Koral for a foe. The action sequences aren't bad either, with apt pacing.
A sequel, Somewhere in the Deep, is slated for next year. I might read it for the sake of closure. I won't count on things getting better for Koral, but they can't get much worse than before.
Now starting Night Watch. Terry Pratchett gets cynical too, but at least he tries to be funny about it.