It took me a while to get into Bronze Drum. Nguyen writes with an elevated, epic-type style that made me feel like I was reading a book for school rather than one for fun. And there were many times early in the book where the style turned me off enough that I almost decided not to finish.

But once I did get into the rhythm, I ended up enjoying the book. Bronze Drum tells the story of the Trung sisters, who are noblewomen in the Lac Viet region of ancient Vietnam during the time of the Han occupation. Older sister Trung Thac is disciplined and wise, younger sister Trung Nhi is free-spirited and fierce. Han control weighs heavy on their family, as their community is forced to give most of their earnings to the Han government, and there’s lots of pressure to conform to Han religion and culture. (For example, patriarchal rather than matriarchal, Confucianism instead of Vietnamese gods, and marriage instead of a less formal approach towards love.)

The Trung sisters are historical figures, and from what I understand, their exploits are legendary and very well-known to many Vietnamese people. They led an army of women in an uprising against the Hans that turned out to be successful, and they actually ruled the kingdom for a few years before the Hans won back the land. Based solely on what I’ve learned from Wikipedia, the novel takes some liberties in making their triumph feel even more momentous (Trung Thac calls herself ‘she-king’ rather than ‘queen’ and renames herself Trung Vuong), and the end of their lives feel even more triumphant (with no spoilers, I love how the manner of their death in the novel differs from that in the Wikipedia article).

Like I said, the novel itself takes a while to get into. Unlike many other young adult history / fantasy novels, the writing style positions Trung Thac (a.k.a. Trung Vuong) and Trung Nhi more like epic figures than like flesh-and-blood women. We do get a good sense of their fierce love for each other, and their emotional connection to the other figures in their lives, including their respective love interests. But the novel never loses sight of the important role these women play in history. It did cause me to feel a bit detached from the story for the first few chapters, but once I got into the rhythm of Nguyen’s language, I found that he does include emotional nuances in these characters that do make them come to life. I also like how circumstances shape each sister to be more alike than different, i.e. Trung Thac learns to be less bound by rules, and Trung Nhi learns to be more patient.

I especially love the important role bronze drums play in the story. An introductory note explains that these instruments have great historical significance, to the point that when General Ma Yuan reconquers ancient Viet Nam for the Han government, he orders them all to be confiscated and melted into two bronze pillars as a symbol of Han might. Vietnamese women hid some of these drums though, as a symbol of resistance, and two thousand years later, archaeologists still find them well-preserved. I love how Nguyen handles the scene where these drums were melted — to show off his power, General Ma Yuan orders Vietnamese women to carry the pillars on their backs, and later, Nguyen notes that because of this, even though Han pulleys eventually erect the pillars, no Han hands actually touched the metal. It’s a nice little note of rebellion in an otherwise tragic moment, and I love the subversion.

And the symbolism of the drums becomes even more potent given how essential they were for the fighting. No spoilers, but I love how they were used in battle, and in fact, the battle scenes in the novel were my favourite part. I love how each sister brought her own specific strength to the battle: Trung Vuong’s sharp strategic mind and Trung Nhi’s martial abilities. And I love how the army is made up of commonfolk women, most of whom weren’t trained from birth to fight. Trung Vuong notes this fact, and there’s a great line about how the fate of Vietnam lies in its working class. There’s an especially powerful contrast with the Han government, which has conscripted Vietnamese men to their army, and often promotes men from high-ranking families to leadership. So even within the makeup of their respective armies, Nguyen draws a clear contrast that highlights the culture and traditions that the Trung sisters and their army are fighting to protect.

This novel may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and certainly, it’s not one I imagine myself wanting to re-read. But I’m glad I did stick with it. I wasn’t familiar with the story of the Trung sisters, and I love the glimpse this gave me into Vietnamese history. I can only imagine how much more this will resonate with readers who are Vietnamese or who have Vietnamese heritage. This seems a super important part of their history, and for that alone, I think it’s worth a read.

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Thank you to Hachette Book Group Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

The 18th Roy Grace novel is a fun and entertaining art world caper. It begins in 2015, when an art dealer comes across a long-lost painting by Jean-Honore Fragonard: Spring, one of four that the painter created for the four seasons. Alone, it could bring in about GBP 3 – 5 million; if the full set was completed, the value skyrocketed to about ten times as much. The art dealer is killed before he could sell it.

Fast forward to 2019, when Harry and Freya, an ordinary couple who love shopping at car boot sales, stumble upon what could be another painting in the series, Summer. Detective Superintendent Roy Grace, still mourning the recent death of his son, has assembled a team to investigate the cold case of the art dealer’s murder in 2015.

From fairly early on in the novel, we know who the major players are. We know there’s a ruthless art collector who’s not above using shady means to acquire the works he desires. We know his right hand man has worked with a well-known art forger, and we also know that Harry has reached out to this art forger for advice about his painting.

The direction this thriller will take is no mystery, and I don’t think I would necessarily label this a high-octane thriller. Yet it’s very much a character-driven one, and very effective at what it does. Within their first appearance, I was full-on rooting for Harry and Freya. I sympathized with their struggles in managing their son Tom’s diabetes vis-a-vis his sweet tooth, and I was especially invested in hoping that their beloved rescue cat Jinx survives whatever happens. (I’m glad to say he does, and true to cats everywhere, his role seems to be to run away from danger, while his humans are quite a bit slower to pick up on the signals.)

Some of Harry’s decisions, ironically including the ones he makes to protect his investment in the painting, don’t work out at all like he plans, and in fact sometimes end up just creating more problems. And that really worked for me. Because his mistakes aren’t totally off-the-mark; he’s not so much a totally hapless innocent as he is a regular person caught in a situation far beyond his experience. His and Freya’s desire for a better life is very understandable, and I just kept wishing they offloaded the painting to an auction house already, so they get all the money they’re entitled to, before the shady art collector and his team close in.

While Roy Grace and his detectives did play a part in solving the mystery, they almost felt sidelined to the core of the thrills, which for me, centred on the various other characters playing cat and mouse over this painting. For me, the series characters shone most in their B plots — Roy Grace mourning his son’s death and trying to learn more about his son’s final moments (I wish I’d remembered more about what happened in the last book); Grace’s protege Glenn Branson, wanting to be supportive of his fiancee’s career, but also wanting to have more kids, and clashing with his fiancee about her investigation on corruption on the force; and Norman Potting, who makes lots of off-colour jokes but is also dealing with a lot in his personal life. I was drawn by these subplots as well, and found that they gave a nice respite from the main storyline.

Overall, this was a fun book, and a great escape for a weekend. 

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Thank you to Publishers Group Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Jade is a Twisted Green is a good coming-of-age story about a twenty-four-year-old Black queer woman in Toronto. Jade Brown is working through her grief over her twin sister’s death a few years ago, and the story follows her journey towards her twenty-fifth birthday, as she reconnects with past lovers, parties with friends, and pushes herself past her comfort zone. In doing so, she tries new experiences, meets new friends, and grows more confident in her ambition to become a writer.

I’m not usually one for literary fiction these days, but Turton’s writing drew me in. I liked how complex and textured her characters were. While Jade is the main character in the novel, the story occasionally flips to other characters’ points of view, and we see how many of them are also figuring their own ways through life.

I like how some of the dialogue was in patois, and I especially like how the narration pointed out where, for example, using patois and first names was unusual for a pair of characters in interacting with each other. Or in another example, the narration comments on how a character switches to the kind of language Jade notices her mom using with white folks. These little linguistic notes highlight the nuances going on in the scene, and the subtle shifts in the relationships between characters.

I was also drawn into the backstory of Jade’s sister Roze and, while part of me wished the book had had more scenes with her, I also kinda like the limited nature of the glimpses we did see. The part where the circumstances behind her death were revealed was especially well-done.

Overall, I thought this was a really good story with a strong narrative voice. I cared for Jade and her friends, I loved how much they were there for each other, and I was glad to see Jade gradually come into her own.

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Thank you to Dundurn Press for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.