Fourth Wing
For fans of fantasy, romance, and action.
Synopsis: Having trained her whole life to be a scribe, Violet’s life is upturned when she is enlisted in the dragon rider quadrant of Basgiath War College. She’s faced with a series of challenges and forms alliances (both human and dragon) throughout her training. Outside the school’s walls, a war escalates and Violet suspects that what they’ve been taught is not the whole truth.
This book has been everywhere over the past few months—on the front of every bookstore, at the airport, and on every single book vlogger’s Instagram, TikTok, and Youtube pages. When the sequel Iron Flame came out a few months ago, it was sold out all over Toronto. It’s easy to see why this book blew up—it’s as if the author asked ChatGPT to write a story including almost every trope that’s been popular over the past decade: a magical school; a Chosen One protagonist who just wants to be normal; a protagonist’s dysfunctional family; an enemies to lovers romance; a moody, dark-haired love interest with shadow magic; fated mates; and rebels conspiring against a military/dystopian-esque government.
There’s been so much hype that everything to be said has already been said about this book. It’s definitely not one of my favourites—the back-to-back use of so many mainstream tropes made for a quick, but predictable (and sometimes cheesy) read. But while formulaic, there is also something addicting about this novel, as well as mildly nostalgic—it’s far from the best writing, characters, or worldbuilding—but if you were an avid reader in your teens and miss the peak days of The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Maze Runner fandoms, it’s a good fix.
Yellowface
For fans of thriller, psychological fiction, and satire.
Synopsis: June’s friend, Athena Liu, is a rising literary star. Set to be the magnum opus of her career, Athena’s latest work-in-progress is a war epic depicting the role of Chinese labourers in World War I. When Athena dies in a freak accident, June steals the manuscript and publishes it as her own. June becomes an overnight success, but she scrambles to keep her plagiarism a secret while also staving off allegations of racism and cultural appropriation.
Yellowface is a satirical novel and a critique of the publishing industry. Under the spotlight is the heavily debated subject of who should or should not profit from telling a story. But it feels like the book’s social commentary extends beyond the literary world—Yellowface is a scathing look on aspects such as white performativity, social media, and cancel culture in a way that those outside of publishing will be no stranger to.
If none of this sounds appealing, Yellowface is also fun—June’s unreliable, salacious, and self-indulgent narration felt like a cross between a YA character’s diary entry and a tabloid magazine.
I finished the book in two sittings, a feat that I thought was no longer possible since starting law school. June is unhinged, delusional, and reading from her perspective was grossly fascinating in the same way that watching a true crime documentary is.
What also makes this book so quick and entertaining is that, like with any good villain, at many times it was uncomfortably easy to sympathize with June—most law students will know what it feels like to have an “Athena” in our lives, to watch as everything we’ve ever wanted is seemingly effortlessly achieved by a peer. In an interview, Kuang herself names Athena an antagonist, calling her her “worst nightmare.” There are really no good guys in this book and it feels so very realistic. That doesn’t condone the many awful things that June does, but it was unnerving how genuine June’s voice sounded as she persistently addressed the reader, pleading with us to view things from her side. At some points, it stops feeling like a villain story and starts reading like the latest confessions of your friend with poor coping mechanisms who you’re not super proud of but can’t help but feel bad for. Yellowface is a great blend of satire, racial commentary, and entertainment.
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
For fans of the original Hunger Games franchise.
Synopsis: the prequel to the Hunger Games books, BOSAS features President Coriolanus Snow’s life as a teenager and how he became the villain we know him as by the time Katniss Everdeen rolls around. Once one of the most prominent aristocratic families of the Capitol, the Snows have fallen from their pedestal, and now impoverished, Coriolanus is hungry to prove himself. When he’s assigned to be the mentor of Lucy Gray Baird, the District 12 tribute, he realizes that with his creativity, he has a shot at making her the Victor of the 10th Hunger Games—and finally achieving the fame and success his family deserves. However, as the two get closer, Coriolanus soon finds himself desperate for her survival for other reasons.
The reviews for BOSAS have been mixed since it came out in 2020, so much so that I didn’t bother picking it up until Lionsgate released a fantastic new trailer in anticipation of the BOSAS film adaptation, reviving excitement for the whole Hunger Games franchise as if it were once again 2013. BOSAS is slow to start, especially since Coriolanus’s voice is young, arrogant, and unlikeable. He is selfish, vain, and throughout the first few chapters, it feels like his whole “villain arc” might just be him being a POS. But as soon as Lucy Gray is introduced, BOSAS picks up quickly. Coriolanus is forced to think of someone else other than himself for once—and he’s actually good at it; he and Lucy Gray make a natural, clever team. Being back in the arena for another Hunger Games is so much fun (yes, I know it’s ironic that I sound like a member of the Capitol), especially from the mentors’ perspective. The romance between Coriolanus and Lucy Gray is believable and when you find yourself rooting for them, Coriolanus’s next inevitably unhinged moment sometimes comes as a jump scare. There are also so many easter eggs and fan theories that have sprouted out from BOSAS that it’s a must-read for fans of the original series.
Happy Place
For fans of contemporary romance.
Synopsis: Harriet and Wyn broke up months ago but when they get roped into a week-long cottage stay with their whole group of college friends for one last shebang, they pretend to still be in love for the group’s sake.
This book perfectly captured my love/hate relationship with contemporary romance novels. I always crave something cutesy, especially in between reading back-to-back fantasy series, almost like a palate cleanser. I loved Harriet and Wyn, as well as the whole cast of characters. I loved the flashback scenes and how much friendship was featured. I also love the “forced proximity” romance trope. But halfway through this book, I got a little sleepy. It was an enjoyable read and I would still recommend it for romance fans or those looking for something wholesome with funny, relatable characters; this book single handedly got me through a week in the Caribbean with no Wifi. But I think Happy Place made me realize that I enjoy reading romance novels only when the characters haven’t yet gotten together or confessed their love, when it’s all tension and snarky banter and still the feeling of “will they?”. After that point, I have a bad habit of getting bored. Happy Place of course includes a happy ending, but if you’re like me, gravitate towards this book for a cozy, warm read and less so for anticipation or buildup.