I’m going to try to keep my cool writing this review, but you can also just picture me grabbing you, the imagined reader of this post, by your lapels (I’m imagining you’re wearing something with lapels) and screaming “You have to read Girl, Serpent, Thorn!” Don’t worry, in my imagination we’re living in a post-pandemic world and it’s safe for me to scream enthusiastically in your face, although admittedly, still rude.
I first encountered Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust in some round-up of “coming soon” titles last year, and I thought “Wow, that sounds very much like my cup of tea” but then I got distracted by something shiny and forgot both the title and the author’s name. Periodically I would think “What was that cool-sounding book with the poisonous girl in it?”, but it took months for me to finally stumble across it again. In fact, my spouse read it before I did.
Part of me is a little mad that I didn’t read this book sooner. At the same time, February in the Seattle area is just the worst so it was really nice to have a book to read right now which felt like it was made for me.
Let’s Talk Archetypes
We all have certain tropes and archetypes we’re drawn to, right? In my review of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, I talked about how much I love stories about women who flee the altar for a life of adventure. Well, even more than that, I love the archetype of the untouchable woman. Ever since I first encountered Rogue in the X-Men, I’ve been fascinated by characters who can’t touch people, and they’re almost always women.
Why is this archetype so fascinating? I feel like it’s a two-pronged thing. On the one hand, there’s the angst and longing of being denied close human contact. On the other hand, as a woman, there’s a certain power in being able to so directly punish anyone who touches you without permission.
Of course, in our coronavirus times, this archetype takes on another level of poignancy. We’re all, in some way, dealing with an inability to touch the people we care about. I haven’t hugged a friend in 11 months. The only time someone other than my spouse has touched me in that time was when I got my flu shot. I can only imagine how much harder this must be for anyone who is living alone.
On With the Review
So our untouchable woman in Girl, Serpent, Thorn is Soraya. She has poison in her veins and any animal that she touches dies. Plants, at least, are immune, so she has a lovely garden. Soraya has been told all of her life that her poison touch comes from a curse that a div laid on her mother as a teenager. Because this curse is seen as a mark of evil, Soraya is hidden away from public life and lives in isolation in her rooms and garden (again, parallels to our current pandemic life).
Soraya knows very little of the world outside her rooms. Her childhood companions have moved on. Her family travels from palace to palace with the seasons, leaving her behind in the Golvahar palace for most of the year. The servants bring her food, but she has no real human contact except for during the Spring, when her mother will visit her.
At the start of the book, Soraya’s family returns to Golvahar, bringing with them a div (Parvaneh) who tried to kill her brother the shah (Sorush), and the handsome young man (Azad) who stopped the attempt. They also bring the news that Sorush is to wed Laleh, who was once Soraya’s best friend.
All of this spurs Soraya into action. She sees Parvaneh as a possible source of information on how to cure her affliction, and in Azad she finds a willing ally and possible source of romance.
Beyond this point, it’s hard to spend too much time discussing the plot. Girl, Serpent, Thorn is a story full of secrets and lies and surprisingly reveals and unexpected twists and turns. It kept me guessing the whole way through, right up until the very satisfying ending.
Themes and Elements
So let’s instead talk about things in more general terms.
Bashardoust drew on both the Western fairy tale canon and Persian myths and legends in crafting this story. In fact, make sure to read her notes at the end — she talks a bit about the mythological and historical inspirations for the book and even shares some recommendations for further reading. I’m really eager to dig into some Persian mythology now!
Not to keep calling back to Addie LaRue, but this is another book that really harnesses female anger pretty well. Soraya has to deal with a lot of hurt and betrayal in the course of this novel, and I really appreciated seeing how she processes it and how it informs her decisions and her actions.
This is also very much a book about the stories we tell ourselves, and the stories others tell about us.
Girl, Serpent, Thorn is excellently paced. Things move along at a good clip, but not at such a break-neck speed that Soraya never has time to pause and reflect. It’s very hard to put down, however. At 336 pages in the print format (and about 240 on my tablet) it’s just the right length to keep you busy for a few days to a week depending on your reading speed, though I wouldn’t have been mad if it had been a little longer (I didn’t want it to end).
This is a self-contained story. I feel like there’s certainly room for Bashardoust to tell more stories in this world, but it also felt like Soraya’s story was neatly wrapped up.
Girl, Serpent, Thorn is a novel which I feel has YA/adult cross-over appeal. It seems to be categorized as YA, but I thought it was an adult novel with a young protagonist while I was reading it. Soraya is at least 18 (I can’t recall if her exact age was stated) putting her at the cusp where she’s technically an adult, but still highly relatable for teens as well. If you happen to have a book-loving teen in your life, this is one you could both read and discuss.
Also, Soraya is bisexual. I couldn’t really tell how normalized queer relationships are in this world. Soraya did face some rejection from a same-sex crush in her youth, but it was hard to say whether that was a reflection of society’s mores or a single character’s feelings. Later on, her same-sex attraction doesn’t really serve as a source of angst, so even if the world wouldn’t be fully accepting, Soraya herself seems to know who she is and what she wants, and she’s fine with that.
I Guess I Should Have Some Criticism
It’s really hard to find fault with a book that you love. If anything, I do wish the prose had been a little more descriptive. I would have liked more sensory details so that it would have felt more immersive.
That’s it. That’s all I can come up with for criticism.
Who Will Enjoy This Book?
This will definitely be the book for you if you enjoy stories based on/inspired by mythology, folklore, and fairy tales.
If you enjoyed S. A. Chakraborty’s Daevabad Trilogy, you’re almost guaranteed to like this one, and since it’s self-contained you won’t have any of that “when is the next book coming out?!?” trilogy angst.
If you like your fiction to have a clearly feminist tone and complex female characters, yeah, this one is really for you.
Girl, Serpent, Thorn definitely found its audience in me, and I hope it appeals to you as well.
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