The Spellshop by Sarah Beth Durst
I’ve been a fan of Sarah Beth Durst for years now, so I was
happy to see the attention her latest novel is receiving. Of course, I eagerly grabbed
a copy and devoured it. It’s an understatement to say that The Spellshop
is wildly inventive, sweet, enchanting, and impossible to put down.
Fleeing the violent revolution in the capital city,
librarian Kiela packs a few crates of precious books of spells (which are
illegal for non-approved sorcerers to cast, by the way) and escapes with her
friendly assistant, a talking spider plant named Caz, who has more common sense
than most humans. She lands on the island of her birth, where she thinks to
hide in her parents’ abandoned house until—she does not know, she can’t plan that
far ahead. Nor can she cope with the sudden appearance of her neighbor and childhood
friend, merhorse herder Loran, who shows up on her doorstep with a welcoming
gift of cinnamon buns. Soon Kiela and Caz are drawn into the community of
humans and magical beings, ever fearful to keep their stash of forbidden hidden.
Before long, however, Kiela ends up creating spells (for reasons that seem good
at the time) that she calls folk “remedies,” sometimes with hilarious results
(like the apple-tree bird or the sentient cactus that Caz falls in love with).
The world building and cast of characters are fresh,
original, and charming, but for me the best part of The Spell Shop was
the skill and sensitivity with which Durst portrays how those characters change
and grow. In particular, she captures Kiela’s voice as the reclusive librarian
slowly emerges from her isolation with evolving insight into the motives and
emotions of others…and herself. No wonder Book Riot called Durst “a hidden gem
of the fantasy world.”
File this tale under: Perennial Comfort Reading. And buy a second copy to lend to special friends.
No comments:
Post a Comment