- Fiction
- Fantasy
- Storytelling
This book follows an old man named Chant, more of a title than a true name. His given name has long since faded from use. When we meet him, he is imprisoned and accused of witchcraft, and we follow him as he uses his skills as a storyteller to get himself into both trouble and, occasionally, out of it.
Chant and his assistant, Ylfing, are the two characters we spend the most time with. Chant is hard not to love; he has that warm, grandfatherly presence that keeps you engaged and curious about what will happen next. Ylfing, his young apprentice, is equally compelling, you keep reading to see how he will grow and where his path will lead.
Although the world is described as wide and expansive, the story stays rooted in one place. We learn this location in great detail, which is impressive considering that much of the book takes place in a prison cell. Despite this constraint, the world beyond still feels alive, and you’re left wanting to explore more of it.
One of my favourite elements was the storytelling itself. I wasn’t expecting the book to contain so many tales within the main narrative, but the fables and smaller stories woven throughout added richness and charm.
Another aspect I really enjoyed was how LGBTQ+ identities are presented as a completely normal, everyday part of this world. It’s never highlighted or treated as unusual, just quietly integrated into the society, which felt both refreshing and affirming.
There were a few aspects I didn’t enjoy as much. The layout isn’t always clear, there are no obvious chapter breaks, just an occasional decorative drop cap to mark a new section, which can make it difficult to tell where chapters begin. And because so much of the story happens in a prison cell, I often wondered whether the plot would ever move away from that setting.
I went into this book knowing nothing about it. I picked it up after noticing the striking cover on a friend’s bookshelf, and she kindly lent it to me. I’m glad she did, this isn’t something I would have chosen on my own, but it turned out to be an enjoyable read.
Rowland’s writing is very much storytelling-as-narrative: Chant is essentially telling us the book as if we’re sitting beside him, and the novel also plays with meta-commentary about stories themselves. It can be a slow burn, building tension in some places while dropping it in others, and if I recommended it to someone, I would note that the plot is not action-driven. It consistently leaves you questioning what truth is and what isn’t.
However, if you enjoy stories built on politics, intrigue, layered narrative, and the power of words over action, then this may be the book for you.
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