The Sweet Sting of Salt

A book cover depicting the center of a woman's bare chest, framed by long dark hair.

What a gorgeous, moody read! The moment I saw the email from Netgalley--"A lyrical, Sapphic retelling of a Celtic folktale"--I knew I had to read it, and I'm so glad I was able to snatch it up. Read in a day.

I am astonished that this is the author's first published book, but less so by hearing they're a transplant from Les Mis Tumblr fandom. (I've never been in it, but I have heard time and again of the quality of writing that fandom put out in their heyday.) The prose is gorgeous, moody and captivating and inviting. The romance feels so charmingly, tenderly earned, and the pacing throughout is perfect (though near the climax, it gets a bit clumsy for a short while, in my opinion--things felt a little rushed and lacking in finesse). Somehow, it managed to transplant a classic-seeming Gothic mood to a windswept Nova Scotia setting, and I adored it. The book feels like wind and snow and salt-spray in a way that I can't put my finger on. I read this in digital format, but I can't wait to have a hardcopy in my hands that I can snuggle up with under some blankets and a warm yellow light and a giant mug of tea.

The cast of characters are a delight. Jean, our protagonist, is plucky and determined in a way that feels real (in a sea of not-like-other-girls protagonists, she is a stand out). Her determination and independence runs the gamut from strength to flaw at different points in the book, but always sympathetic, always realistic. Muirin is tragic in a way that only reinforces her strength, and her cleverness and wit made for some of my favourite moments in the book (the first scene at the window! Ack!) Anneke is a beautifully well-rounded inclusion, sharp as a tack and mind as anything, and it was lovely to see Mi'kmaq characters feature in a novel of the setting and period. And Laurie, sweet lovely foolish Laurie--oh, he was a bright spot for me, despite the opportunity for tragedy. And on the other side, Tobias. What an antagonist. He was so deeply unsettling, so normal in his villainy, it made me shudder. He, too, feels extremely real in a way that is horrifying to consider.

The story is somewhat predictable, but in the way all stories--especially those based in folktales--can be. I knew where it was going to go, but not how the author was going to get us there, and knowing the destination did not cause me to devour this book any less voraciously.

Bri and I have been talking about how challenging it feels to find Sapphic books that fit the genres and types of stories we most enjoy, and that are also actually /good/. This one was great. Sweet and gorgeous and well-crafted; I'll watch for more from this author, for sure.