Good Fantasy. Original, atmospheric, surprising at times, even if a bit on the nose some other times.
This is the story of Devon, a Book Eater on the run, a murderer, even if she hasn’t directly killed anyone, and a mother.
No one knows the real origins of the Book Eaters, a race of beings that look human but definitely are not human. Most of these beings, who live unnoticed among Earth’s population, survive by eating books, and as they eat the books, each word in them becomes part of their mind, never to be forgotten. Yet, a minority among them can’t eat books at all. They, the Mind Eaters, instead eat minds, killing the actual owner of the brain in the process.
Importantly, the Book Eaters are a dying species. Book Eater women are becoming barren at younger and younger ages, and most pregnancies result in boys. Thus, women are a precious commodity. Treated accordingly, Book Eater women had zero decision power over their own lives, and that of their children. They can’t even choose what to read, often kept on a diet of fairy tales and romance novels. Married as soon as they turn eighteen, their marriages are arranged by the Knights, an elite group of Book Eaters who negotiate among the clans, making sure the brides fetch the highest possible price (of which they get a cut), and preventing inbreeding.
The knights also control the Dragons, as the few surviving Mind Eaters are called, using them as a weapon to terrorize and control the clans and, in particular, any wannabe runaway bride.
Ironically, Book Eaters can’t write, trying to even scribble a word results in headaches and losing consciousness.
But Devon, a member of the old and poor Fairweather clan, has displayed a stubbornness well beyond the normal. From being a child to the moment her first child is born, a perfectly lovely little girl, she more or less has obeyed what she’s being ordered, following on the path her father (who she has always called uncle) set for her.
But she doesn’t go quiet into the night (or the limo as it is the actual case), when the time comes to leave her daughter to be raised by the clan of her father. Instead, she fights and swears to one day come back for her.
Her second wedding results in a second pregnancy (rare among Book Eaters), which results in a baby boy. A Mind Eater baby boy.
From there on, motherhood and politics mixed, turning Devon and her son into runaways in search of Redemption, a drug that allows Mind Eaters to survive on books, as the rest of their species.
Up to here, I was mesmerized by the story. A fantastical thriller, gritty, strange and unpredictable that wouldn’t let go of my attention.
Yet, the last part did let go and in such an anticlimactic way that I nearly didn’t finish the book.
If you have reached this stage of my review, you may be wondering if I’m telling you that this book has a bad ending, and the answer is mostly no.
The ending does a good job at subverting expectations, turning villains into heroes and heroes into villains, even if just for a few pages, before returning them to their original roles. What it really bothered me—and this is a very ME kind of issue—is how all the little things that didn’t make sense to me from the start, suddenly grew into a giant snowball of this-no-longer-works-for-me, as in “I can no longer suspend my disbelief.” And here, I’m not talking about the big fantastical things sustaining the story, but the bits and pieces that are supposed to comfortably nest it in the real world.
For instance, the constant reference to Invitro fertilization as the ultimate solution for the Book Eaters fertility problems made no sense to me, considering that the actual issue was the women entering menopause at really young ages (with no ovulating women to extract eggs from, how is this thing going to work? I wondered). Many more achievable solutions jumped at me as I read, like getting women to get pregnant more often (not a gentle solution, but nothing in the way Book Eater women were treated seemed gentle or ethical, so I see no reason why the men would object to it).
Anyhow, it was the little details like that one, that ultimately weighed on my enjoyment of this book, turning it from thrilling masterpiece into, I’m just glad I read.