Books like Of Beast and Beauty

I’ve never read anything with such a well-thought-through and descriptive world as the one in this book. The more you read, the richer it becomes, creating such an incredible story.

I was such a sucker for this book because it had a little of everything that I loved, and it is absolutely a story that’ll leave you wanting to make a Pinterest board. I love books with strong aesthetics, and I find them enjoyable to read. This book was absolutely that!

Between the high-stakes worldbuilding, Earth on the brink of war with Luna while battling a global pandemic, and Marissa Meyer’s fresh sci-fi take on magic, the story drew me in and wouldn’t let me go.

I’m not ashamed to say I devoured this in one sitting. I was fascinated by the lunar people’s ability to use their “gifts” to manipulate bioelectricity, casting glamours and bewitching their victim’s minds. It added yet another layer of tension to the story.

The seamless fusion of dystopia, sci-fi, and elements from classic fairytales creates a powerhouse narrative that centers around Cinder, a cyborg mechanic whose fate is inexplicably twined with the prince’s in a race to find a cure and prevent the impending war.

A retelling inspired by the ballad of Hua Mulan, this tale is not a fairy tale in the sense of princesses, but a powerful legend in its own right. Taking place in feudal Japan, the character Mariko immediately weaved her place as my favorite. Always thinking how she can best escape or twist a situation to her advantage, the beginning of the story featured her setting out to find who was trying to kill her, and never stopped from there. Including finding her own found family of outlaws, and able to use her love of experiments in any way she pleases. Every time Mariko came up with a new idea for an invention, it felt like I could see the thoughts sparking inside her mind. Sometimes they worked, sometimes not, but she never stopped trying. That includes finding the truth to some of the darker events that come into play.

Once Again is actually a combined volume of two stories inspired by Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, but each easily stands out on their own. Snow was by far my favorite, introducing an evil stepmother who has a particular love for the science arts, and the dwarves were inspired into a combination of unforgettable human-animal hybrids that was perfectly brilliant. Raven and Jessica, or Snow as she is known to the Hybrids known as the Lonely Ones, were a cute pairing that made a very sweet ending together. 

I love this book because, beyond the fabulous, richly layered story, it takes what should be unlikeable characters and makes you root for them. April Epner is flawed—brittle, sarcastic and closed off at times—but I love her.

As a reader, I can understand why she is the way she is, and that’s the key to making her sympathetic and likable. The payoff is so satisfying when April makes a deep emotional connection and opens up. Bernice Graverman, April’s newfound biological mom, is tacky, loud and over the top, and yet, I was rooting for her. She has a tough shell, but there’s a touching hidden vulnerability.

One more thing I loved about this book…I lived in Quincy, MA (outside of Boston), where this story is set, for five years—it perfectly captures what life was like there in the nineties.

When reading, I often mark passages and sentences I find especially evocative, powerful, insightful, or well-written. This novel is riddled with such marks. Freud does an exceptional job of creating a strong sense of time and place with elegant descriptions.

She explores the bonds between mothers and daughters, formed and broken, through three generations of women who all have a penchant for loving deeply flawed men. It’s a largely melancholy story and it stirred in me a wide range of painful emotions—heartache, disappointment, anger, frustration. Yet, the story contains moments of true beauty, as well, and ultimately concludes with a sense of brightness and redemption. 

Grief is such a universal experience, yet I don’t think we get enough opportunities to truly grieve.

Nicole’s book provided me with space to grieve alongside her but also to grieve my own losses. I also appreciated how she connected her father’s death to broader systemic failures and how his view of himself shaped the help he was willing to accept or not.

I was especially taken in by how the theme of community shows up throughout the book–how important community is, how we find community, and how we build communities of care.

Imagine this. You were adopted as a child. You’re now an adult with a medical condition. So, you take a DNA test to find blood relatives who could shed some light and family history on your disease. But you get the shock of your life when an FBI agent shows up and tells you they received your test results too and you are related to a serial killer! Ivy’s life spins out of control as she travels to meet her relatives and find a killer. Ivy is told that her mother was murdered by The Full Moon Killer and now she is getting too close…could she be the next victim? A chilling novel with lots of twists that left me thinking if I were in Ivy’s shoes, just this once, I’d rather DNA kept secrets.

As I‘ve said, I love foreign-set thrillers, especially the ones set in England. And this was another book I devoured. 

Although the suspense and intrigue of the plot kept me glued to the pages, I had to put it down multiple times as I went through a range of emotions reading about black women and girls being let down, hurt, and preyed upon by the people meant to protect them.

I eagerly followed Eva’s journey, not just to find her birth mother and reclaim her identity, which was literally cut from her, but to expose the chilling truth of why four black women went missing, and the police didn’t look for them. 

This book was a sad reminder of how easily black women and girls fall through the cracks unnoticed.

Hata, a Korean, adopted by a Japanese couple, serves the Japanese Army as a medic in World War II. His job is to care for enslaved Koreans who serve as “comfort women” to Japanese soldiers. His experiences are the material of nightmares. Years later he leads a deceptively quiet life in a small town in New Jersey with his Korean adoptive daughter. It is deceptively quiet because his unresolved war experiences, presented in flashbacks, haunt him. I admired the abrupt manner in which Chang-Rae Lee interrupted Hata’s uneventful life with horrific memories.

The author’s method felt like the triggering of those who have suffered trauma and continue to relive events as PTSD. This approach of interweaving past with present inspired my depiction of a young German woman living a quiet life on a primitive Icelandic farm, milking the cows and raking the hay, while being repeatedly interrupted by memories of… show more.