soupçon/ˈsuːpsɒn,ˈsuːpsɒ̃/ noun
1. a very small quantity of something; a slight trace, as of a particular taste or flavorSunday Soupçons is where I scribble mini-reviews for books I don’t have the brainspace/eloquence/smarts to write about in depth – or if I just don’t have anything interesting to say beyond I LIKED IT AND YOU SHOULD READ IT TOO!
Two very different novellas, but I ended up loving them both!
An A to Z of the Fantastic City: A Guidebook for Readers and Explorers by Hal Duncan, Eric Schaller
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Magical Realism, Queer Protagonists
Representation: tiny bit of M/M
PoV: First-person, present-tense
Goodreads
Sexy, secretive, yet clear-eyed, Duncan brings pop, high, and low cultures together in one handy sometimes amusing sometimes harsh A-to-Z which every bibliophile and armchair adventurer will find to be a necessary guidebook through the temerarious pages of international literature.
Deeply odd, but a) deliberately so and b) quite lovely! I adored the introduction, which is framed as a speech given at some kind of conference, all about the cartography of ‘Fantasia’, the literal/physical place that either IS Fantasy or is where Fantasy comes from!
The little descriptions of each city are about a page long. Some cities are real places – Dublin is featured – others I recognise from fiction or mythology (like Tír na nÓg, though here Duncan aligns it with New York), and some I’m pretty sure are Duncan’s own creation (like the magnificent Quiz!)
Coming to this from Duncan’s longer fiction (the Book of All Hours duet, and Susurrus on Mars, are some of my all-time favourite books), An A to Z is quite tame in comparison, and there’s less overt magic than I was expecting. But the entries are all beautifully poetic, and woven through some of them is an autobiographical (or fictional pretending to be autobiographical?) thread following Duncan himself. Themes of immigration work their way through several entries; several times fictional places are aligned with real ones (Tolkien’s entire Middle Earth, Duncan places in Oxbridge); there’s an underlying note of what I can only call not-whimsy that pops up at surprising moments (like ‘Heaven’ being built out of political fights over grave).
There’s even a guest appearance by Jack and Puck! BEST EASTER EGG EVER. (Though I do wonder what people who haven’t read the Book of All Hours will think about that entry, given the, ahem, abrupt tonal shift.)
So yeah. I’m glad I read it; if you’re looking for something that’s short and dreamy, but still has teeth, it’s perfect. And long-time fans of Duncan’s have to read it, if only to spend a few lovely minutes with Jack and Puck again!
A Dubious Clamor by Marissa Lingen
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, Queer Protagonists
Representation: Sapphic MC, secondary nonbinary character, major biracial character
PoV: First-person, past-tense
Published on: 15th September 2026
ISBN: 1998390241
Goodreads
Enjoy a world of sorcerous aunts, musical magic, and moody swords in this delightful tale of finding one's balance in an unbalanced world.
Ever since she broke the curse that made her live as a harpy for two years, Jules has worked as a cursebreaker, taking on magical odd jobs for minimal pay and the occasional spot of cake. In a society obsessed with propriety and status, she must tread carefully to maintain her ties to both her aristocratic mother and the wild clamor of harpies with whom she once flew. The delicate balance she has struck is disrupted when her childood friend, Anthony, begs for help with a disgruntled sword. At first, she assumes it will be a job like any other, but the sword soon reveals itself to be an ancient, powerful weapon: the dubious sword forged by the magician Wayland Smith that can literally cut through human certainty. Now, it has awakened to challenge a new law in Parliament that would strip millions of their rights—magical and mundane people alike. The man behind the law, Lord Ventstock, was the very person who once cursed Jules, and she's determined not to let him hurt anyone else.
As her connection to the sword grows, Jules begins to appreciate the double-sided power of doubt: how it can create healthy skepticism or fuel deep anxiety. Certainties can be safe but also dangerous traps. After walking a razor's edge for so long between two worlds, Jules must call upon all her connections and finally merge the two halves of herself if she is going to defeat Lord Ventstock, embracing doubt and having the courage to be undefinable.
I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
Oh, how I ADORED this!
I did not realise this was Historical Fantasy until I started reading, but it is: set sometime during the Victorian era, I think? Well, it’s England and there’s a queen, anyway. Women don’t have the vote yet. But this is not our world’s Victorian (or something) era, because magic exists and everyone knows that it does. Harpies exist! In fact, our protagonist was a harpy for two years, and that is extremely plot-relevant, even though she managed to break the curse a while before the start of the book.
Anthony’s great-aunt Violet had had several fine qualities. She was firm of purpose in a world that expected women to be meek and yielding–not that I personally ever paid attention to that bit either–she had taught Anthony to insist on high standards in several important matters including pastry, and she had looted her own country’s magical past rather than those of others.
So: there’s a magic sword, and it is Not Happy. Turns out, it’s unhappy for very good reason: parliament wants to pass a law, which is also a spell, that will make everyone in the UK ‘certain of their place in life’. This is obviously terrible if you think about it for .2 seconds, but it’s even worse than it sounds, because if you don’t have a clear ‘place’, this spell…well, no one’s sure if it will kill you, or ‘only’ make you walk out into the ocean, or what, but you won’t be staying in the UK. And by the definitions of this spell, almost nobody has a clear place – everyone is many things! If you have a job, but also a family? Oops, that’s two ways of categorising you, you have a problem.
And it’s going to be much, much worse for human immigrants, or magical creatures, or gods forbid anybody nonbinary.
“Do you often think that people need to get married for the sake of a sword? Is that the first thing swords make you think of? Because I have some important and upsetting news about the uses of swords.”
“All right, enough! Tell me about this very ineligible sword!”
The sword wants this spell stopped. So does Jules, and almost everyone else Jules knows. (Alas, not the friend who brought Jules the sword in the first place, which is a source of heartbreaking tension throughout the story.) Figuring out HOW to stop it is not the simplest thing in the world – especially because it’s important that well-known ‘foreigners’ not be seen to be involved, for fear of legal issues later. And the most badass magicians Jules knows? Happen to be ‘foreign’. She has to do this without their help, somehow.
Eek.
Lingen’s prose is both brisk and delicate, absolutely lovely, and Jules’ first-person narration was an utter delight: she’s such a practical sort of person, someone who has been shoved stepped outside of the role society cast her in and made a very good home there, and even when she’s feeling overwhelmed and helpless, she’s very no-nonsense about it in a way that made me admire her. Plus, she’s just really fun: I loved her appreciation for fancy cakes, and her humour, and her sense of justice, and the genuine passion she has for her community of misfits and outcasts. She decides she can’t keep addressing the sword as Sword, and names it Grandmother. Like. I approve so much!
The prose and pacing keep things moving along, but this is a novella with teeth, that’s tackling some big questions, even some borderline frightening ones. It’s very much a story about – the sort of people Society disapproves of, or at best doesn’t know what to do with, and the forces rallied against them. Dubious Clamor is about how too much certainty can be a terrible thing – and so can the desire for too much certainty. There’s a really great exploration of – or contrast between? – the villains who have written and introduced this law-spell…and the weak, pathetic ‘unintentional’ villains who will let evil happen for the sake of chasing certainty. Lingen actually spends more time focussing on the latter, which I think is both really smart and really effective, especially in a story that’s basically about preventing fascism (what else do you call total certainty + a disdain for anybody ‘different’?) Fascists can’t do their thing if the cowards don’t support them, you know?
But it’s not just about fascism. Lingen explores how even in completely different contexts, unqualified certainty can be a huge problem. And there are just so many ways it can be a problem, whether we’re talking small-picture issues like parents who disapprove of their daughter’s paintings, or much bigger things like how to steer a nation. I’m not sure this is an issue/theme I’ve seen in Fantasy before, but I love it and would like so much more of it, please! (The ending of Dubious Clamor leaves things very open for sequels, and I hope we get a BUNCH because, um, HELLS YES I want Jules questing to find the other swords of uncertainty! LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO!) It’s definitely left me with lots of thinky-thoughts; there’s so much that I think Lingen managed to articulate really well, and convey well – lots of stories are very preachy or info-dumpy with their messaging, but this one isn’t. Lingen is too good a writer for that.
The box was half full of their other friends, a peacock crowd in every shade aniline and its relatives could supply, mauve and fuchsia, indigo and scarlet.
I love everything about this novella – I love how Lingen centred immigrant communities in this story, I love that a ‘flock’ of dandies were vital in saving the day, and I adored the harpies! (Including Jules’ ex, the harpy she was romantically ‘with’ while she was under her harpy-curse, and whom she now has a bittersweet but beautiful dynamic with.) I loved that, FOR ONCE, a protagonist had a good, believable reason for choosing Justice over Vengeance – it’s not that Jules is a milksop, the kind of wishy-washy do-gooder who makes me roll my eyes, all ‘Violence is never the answer!’ Nope, Jules is fine with violence, actually, but she has great reasoning for declining the Road of Vengeance and I think her call is the right one. (And if you know me, you know how rarely I say THAT!) I love that we got glimpses of Finnish mythology, and even Welsh, towards the end (neither of which get enough page-time in modern Fantasy, imo). There’s all these gorgeous little details – like the mention of aniline in the above quote! Or Jules and her mother speaking Swedish together, or her mother’s servants having Opinions…
I could go on and on, honestly. This is a brilliant, clever, deeply delightful novella that pushes back at the foundation of fascism, puts the Power of Friendship front-and-centre, and had me giggling as often as it had me gasping. It’s dazzling, so completely original and distinct. It’s left me with so much to think about, but it’s also left me feeling hopeful about the world and other people. It sparks joy.
Instant new fave. MORE, PLEASE!
(And to make sure we GET more, you should go preorder it – it comes out this Tuesday!)
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