I actually ended up reading The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri, which is often placed in a similar category to Clark’s series (to the point that the authors have joked about whether each entry’s cover matches the others). Anyway, I found it much easier to make time for reading when it was an audiobook.
Status? : Finished
My overall rating of the book : 9/10
How does this book relate to my magickal practice?: Thinking about how loneliness, kindness, and love work into the way our magick develops.
My personal thoughts/opinions: The Jasmine Throne was an intense, heartbreaking book, but extremely well written and bringing us characters that need far more representation in the Fantasy genre.
There’s magick, politics, queer rep, and family drama, all set against the background of a country that doesn’t realize it’s nearly tipping into war, and a magical disease where plants take over people’s bodies.
A great read for those of us obsessed with our gardens!
An interesting quote from the book:
Sacred wood. She watched as Gautam held the shard close to the rot-struck branch, as the lesion on the branch paled, the redness fading. The stench of it eased a little, and Priya breathed gratefully. “There,” he said. “Now you know it is fresh. You’ll get plenty of use from it.” “Thank you. That was a useful demonstration.” She tried not to let her impatience show. What did he want—awe? Tears of gratitude? She had no time for any of it. “You should still burn the branch. If you touch it by mistake…” “I know how to handle the rot. I send men into the forest every day,” he said dismissively. “And what do you do? Sweep floors? I don’t need your advice.” He thrust the shard of sacred wood out to her. “Take this. And leave.” She bit her tongue and held out her hand, the long end of her sari drawn over her palm. She rewrapped the sliver of wood up carefully, once, twice, tightening the fabric, tying it off with a neat knot. Gautam watched her. “Whoever you’re buying this for, the rot is still going to kill them,” he said, when she was done. “This branch will die even if I wrap it in a whole shell of sacred wood. It will just die slower. My professional opinion for you, at no extra cost.” He threw the cloth back over the infected branch with one careless flick of his fingers. “So don’t come back here and waste your money again. I’ll show you out.” He shepherded her to the door. She pushed through the beaded curtain, greedily inhaling the clean air, untainted by the smell of decay. At the edge of the veranda there was a shrine alcove carved into the wall. Inside it were three idols sculpted from plain wood, with lustrous black eyes and hair of vines. Before them were three tiny clay lamps lit with cloth wicks set in pools of oil. Sacred numbers. She remembered how perfectly she’d once been able to fit her whole body into that alcove. She’d slept in it one night, curled up tight. She’d been as small as the orphan boy, once. “Do you still let beggars shelter on your veranda when it rains?” Priya asked, turning to look at Gautam where he stood, barring the entryway. “Beggars are bad for business,” he said. “And the ones I see these days don’t have brothers I owe favors to. Are you leaving or not?” Just the threat of pain can break someone. She briefly met Gautam’s eyes. Something impatient and malicious lurked there. A knife, used right, never has to draw blood. But ah, Priya didn’t have it in her to even threaten this old bully. She stepped back. What a big void there was, between the knowledge within her and the person she appeared to be, bowing her head in respect to a petty man who still saw her as a street beggar who’d risen too far, and hated her for it. “Thank you, Gautam,” she said. “I’ll try not to trouble you again.”
Suri, Tasha. The Jasmine Throne: 1 (The Burning Kingdoms) (pp. 16-17). Orbit. Kindle Edition.
All in all, would I recommend this book?: Yes!
(I still hope to read The Faithless in the next couple of weeks, before October slips away from me.)