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beccastareyesSo, Of Blood and Honey by Stina Leicht was a difficult novel for me for about the same reason Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okaofor was; I don't mind reading things that are set in a darker era (real or fictitious), but afterward, I want the literary equivalent of something sweet and fluffy. A bit like drinking black tea with pastries.
Anyway, Of Blood and Honey is set in Northern Ireland during the Troubles. Which adds another connection -- my dad's family is Irish (as in, Dad is the only branch of the family on this side of the Atlantic). I didn't found out until I was well into adulthood that Granddad did work for the IRA. Some of Dad and my uncles' stories of their childhood -- having people come in through the kitchen at odd hours, and the things that Uncle Andy found in the back shed after my grandparents died and he was cleaning up -- give me some kind of connection, however distant.
I don't know if the author is Irish, but the dialect sounded spot-on to me. I don't think I could do it deliberately, but the turns of phrase sounded right to me. I can't check the use of Irish -- I don't speak a word of it, sadly, something I keep meaning to fix.
The fantastical element of the novel mirrors the mundane setting: the Good People (aka the fae) were native to Ireland. When the Roman Catholic Church came, they brought their own enemies: Fallen angels, who started a war with the fae. Moreover, the Church didn't realize that the fae were not the same thing as the Fallen they had been fighting, so it was pretty much a 'see supernatural, kill it'.
Anyway, our protagonist, Liam was born the son of a Fae warrior and a Northern Irish Catholic woman, and he inherits his father's magic… and, unfortunately, his father's enemies. Of course, he doesn't realize this until he's caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and lands in an internment camp. Neither his mother nor the priest watching over him is exactly forthcoming: his mother out of some desire to protect him from his father's world, and Father Murray because he is slowly realizing that Liam is not the danger to humanity that his training and superiors believe him to be and hell if he knows what to do about it.
Like I said, this is a brilliant book and it uses the setting as well as intricately twining the mortal and supernatural. Also nice to see something using the roots of the fae: according to Dad, Nana took faeries seriously. (My father is pretty straight Libertarian, but things like the commercialization of Irish culture (especially around St. Patrick's Day) really piss him off. Also bastardizations of faerie folklore: don't get Dad started on leprechauns.
And suddenly I'm realizing a lot of Dad's complete and utter failure to get American racial politics is because he's not American and grew up in a culture which was effectively one ethnic group that had a history (and not so history: Dad emigrated from the Republic of Ireland in the late 70s) of being oppressed by another, but moved to a culture where both would be considered part of the same group of 'white people'.
Which makes me realize how much I don't get about my own ancestors. I should fix that.
Anyway, Of Blood and Honey is set in Northern Ireland during the Troubles. Which adds another connection -- my dad's family is Irish (as in, Dad is the only branch of the family on this side of the Atlantic). I didn't found out until I was well into adulthood that Granddad did work for the IRA. Some of Dad and my uncles' stories of their childhood -- having people come in through the kitchen at odd hours, and the things that Uncle Andy found in the back shed after my grandparents died and he was cleaning up -- give me some kind of connection, however distant.
I don't know if the author is Irish, but the dialect sounded spot-on to me. I don't think I could do it deliberately, but the turns of phrase sounded right to me. I can't check the use of Irish -- I don't speak a word of it, sadly, something I keep meaning to fix.
The fantastical element of the novel mirrors the mundane setting: the Good People (aka the fae) were native to Ireland. When the Roman Catholic Church came, they brought their own enemies: Fallen angels, who started a war with the fae. Moreover, the Church didn't realize that the fae were not the same thing as the Fallen they had been fighting, so it was pretty much a 'see supernatural, kill it'.
Anyway, our protagonist, Liam was born the son of a Fae warrior and a Northern Irish Catholic woman, and he inherits his father's magic… and, unfortunately, his father's enemies. Of course, he doesn't realize this until he's caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and lands in an internment camp. Neither his mother nor the priest watching over him is exactly forthcoming: his mother out of some desire to protect him from his father's world, and Father Murray because he is slowly realizing that Liam is not the danger to humanity that his training and superiors believe him to be and hell if he knows what to do about it.
Like I said, this is a brilliant book and it uses the setting as well as intricately twining the mortal and supernatural. Also nice to see something using the roots of the fae: according to Dad, Nana took faeries seriously. (My father is pretty straight Libertarian, but things like the commercialization of Irish culture (especially around St. Patrick's Day) really piss him off. Also bastardizations of faerie folklore: don't get Dad started on leprechauns.
And suddenly I'm realizing a lot of Dad's complete and utter failure to get American racial politics is because he's not American and grew up in a culture which was effectively one ethnic group that had a history (and not so history: Dad emigrated from the Republic of Ireland in the late 70s) of being oppressed by another, but moved to a culture where both would be considered part of the same group of 'white people'.
Which makes me realize how much I don't get about my own ancestors. I should fix that.
