Dreadful by Caitlin Rozakis was such a blast. It features Dread Lord Gavrax, a dark wizard (and a mediocre one at that, we learn as the story progresses). Except that Gav has no memories of this. He wakes up with amnesia, freaks out when he realizes he appears to be in a dark lord’s lair, and quickly comes to realize that he is said dark lord. He then spends a good chunk of the book trying to hide this fact from potential enemies while also trying to figure out why he has kidnapped a princess and what the evil wizard Zarconar’s plans are for her.
Gav realizes that he doesn’t feel like a dark lord. He hates the ambiance that Gavrax (he uses Gav vs Gavrax to help distinguish his current self from his former self) created in the castle, he doesn’t want to kill people indiscriminately the way Gavrax seemed to, and when he has unkind thoughts, such as at least one misogynistic thought about Princess Eliasha, he doesn’t like that about himself. Though not a deeply philosophical novel, it does offer a bit of a meditation on the nature of good and evil, what it takes to become good, and whether it’s worth it to even try: “He didn’t know what that made him, if he wasn’t evil enough to be a villain or good enough to be a hero.”
The book delivers on the promised humor, including turning some tropes are their head or lampshading them. One of my favorite parts is when a hero is trying to rescue Eliasha using some magical items given to him by a good wizard, which he has already used at least one of by the time Gav catches him. Gav taunts him: “You should have kept the dart, you might have had a chance. Or did you just think that if Artharno did not give you an item for it, the situation would never arise?” I love that because it’s not uncommon for the heroes in stories to have precisely the right items for their tasks/quests.
While this is a comedic fantasy, it is not a comedy. Rozakis leans into satire but doesn’t shy away from deeper self-reflection or from violence. If you’re looking for a fun book that pokes at fantasy tropes while still packing an emotional punch, this is worth picking up. Overall, I really enjoyed it and gave it 4 stars.
Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe is a graphic memoir that over the past few years has been one of the most challenged and banned books in the U.S. Kobabe, who uses e/em/eir pronouns, shares eir journey to figuring out eir sexuality and gender identity. While it is important to remember that this is one individual’s journey, the memoir offers insight into what it can be like for someone to navigate this journey and how it can evolve over time as Kobabe tried to determine which labels, if any, best fit eir experiences.
This is a very personal story. You’re not going to get in-depth discourse about what it means to be assigned female at birth, asexual, or nonbinary. Kobabe’s purpose isn’t education on a global scale. Rather, e is offering eir own experiences, which likely aligns with what it is like for others like em, and it is a deeply honest book, including how even now Kobabe can be hesitant to come out to others because e doesn’t know how they’ll react.
While the personal nature of the story is compelling, I did find the book a bit disjointed at times, and I’m not sure whether this is due to the graphic format. Also, while I liked the artwork, it didn’t blow me away, though there were some pages that really struck me. As someone who has worked with several trans and nonbinary clients in my practice as a therapist, this book is not groundbreaking for me, but it does provide nuance and background that I don’t often get from clients, and it’s an important book both for those learning about asexuality and gender in general and for those who are looking for something that may resonate with them on a more personal level. And of course, it’s important to read because reading banned books is important.
CBR16 Bingo: fiasco for Dreadful.