Book Review: Girl, Serpent, Thorn
Over the last few years, I’ve developed a strong taste for adult fantasy fairy tales. The kind with an otherworldly quality, with monsters and brave heroines, that could easily begin with “once upon a time” or, in this case “there was, and there was not.” So when I saw the description for Girl, Serpent, Thorn, it immediately went on my To Read list.
Soraya has grown up with literal poison in her veins, unable to touch anyone around her without killing them, and it’s made her a recluse. As her brother the shah’s wedding approaches, Soraya encounters a div and begins to unravel the truth of her curse. With the help of a fearless young man, she ventures out in the world to cure herself, and in doing so sets off a chain of events that endangers herself, her family, and her kingdom.
Man, I really don’t know where to begin with how much I loved this book. I devoured it in two sittings, and it left me hungry for more.
Soraya is the perfect heroine. The book’s tagline is “sometimes the princess is the monster,” and it works so well. Soraya’s terrible curse that makes her poisonous would reflect poorly on her family and might indicate that they’ve lost divine favor, so she is forced to hide, denied even the simplest touch. It drives Soraya to completely understandable actions that have horrible consequences. She has so much growth over the book’s course, from a timid start to a confident, beautiful woman, marked by a representative transformation at the book’s climax. By the end, Soraya has discovered that her abilities were never truly a curse, and she comes fully into her own.
All fairy tales need a good monster and HOO. The Shahmar delivers. He’s perfect for a tale like this — he has moments of tragic humanity, but also moments of great evil. Throughout the book, part of me wanted Soraya to find a way to redeem him; part of me simultaneously recognized that he is beyond redemption. He makes a great foil for Soraya as well; both he and Soraya constantly compare themselves to the other one, and they aren’t wrong to do so — they share a great deal in common. The difference is in how they deal with the consequences of their actions, how they handle their mistakes.
There are several other great characters here, particularly Soraya’s mother Tahmineh and the parik Parvaneh. Soraya’s mother made a choice long ago and has to watch the consequences of that choice balloon into something terrible: an angry and vengeful daughter and a lost kingdom. She’s a kind of tragic figure in many ways, a deep strength in her but marred by her choices. Parvaneh, on the other hand, is playful and fun and dangerous, the perfect tantalizing bait to dangle in front of Soraya. As their relationship deepens, they develop a beautiful give and take of rescue and aid and respect. And like Soraya, Parvaneh understands the responsibility of her previous choices and how it falls on her shoulders.
Can you tell that there’s a theme of choices and consequences and responsibility? Because it’s really what this story revolves around: accepting that our choices have consequences, and we are responsible for making right what we have made wrong. It’s acceptance too, and doing the work to atone. Bashardoust does an excellent job of putting these terrible choices before her characters and really forcing them to confront the consequences, and it makes the story so much more compelling.
Between the compelling themes and the tight plotting, Girl, Serpent, Thorn is gripping. I said above I devoured it in two sittings; I could’ve done one if I had the time. It’s nearly impossible to put down; the chapters flow so smoothly into the next, and you’re always eager to find out how Soraya will deal with her latest terrible choice..
And where would we be in a fairy tale without a good romance? There’s a nice tug of war between the twisted connection Soraya feels with the Shahmar and the freer and exploratory way she interacts with Parvaneh. It’s a good way of modeling what a relationship should be like. The Shahmar is controlling, distrustful, and determined to mold Soraya into what he wants, while Parvaneh is curious about who Soraya could become and interested enough to come along for the ride.
I don’t often comment on prose, but it’s worth noting here that Bashardoust’s writing is beautiful and striking and hits all the right notes for a fairy tale. Fairy tales have to have a certain quality to them to hit home correctly; there’s a dreaminess, an otherworldliness that has to come through. Bashardoust has it down pat.
I DO always comment on worldbuilding though,and it is excellent here. There are recognizable influences from the Middle East, which right away sets it a little apart from most stereotypical Western fairytales. The range of divs and powers associated with them gives a nice spread of villains (who turn out to be maybe more complicated than simply “bad guys”). The legends about Soraya’s familiar and their simurgh ancestor/protector add a lot of color, as do things like the funerary practices and fire worship. And there is some magic here, the perfect kind for fairy tales — the main villain, after all, is a human-turned-div. Transformation is classic fairy tale stuff. I would’ve loved more about the wider world, but for this story, it was unnecessary.
In short, I wholeheartedly recommend Girl, Serpent, Thorn. It’s a spectacular example of a modern fantasy fairy tale, it’s a diverse setting that will take Western readers out of their comfort zone, and it’s just very, very good. Go get a copy.
Grade: 5/5 stars
Memorable Quote:
“I did it to save you, she wanted to say. I had no other choice. But even as she scrambled for righteousness, she knew she was lying to herself. She might have found something heavy to knock the yatu unconscious. She might have only threatened him with death without actually touching him. She might have thought of something else, except she hadn’t thought at all. She had killed the yatu because she was angry with him for what he had said to her all those years ago, because he hadn’t given her the answers she wanted...and because it was easy. Because a little part of her had always wondered how easy it would be, and then she had had the perfect excuse to find out.”
