the real star of the book is how Chorn expresses both the joy and sadness so innate in the human condition
I’m not a big fan of poetry.
Not that I think poetry’s bad – of course not. Poetry just doesn’t speak to me in the way that it speaks to others. The beautiful abstraction of feelings into artfully chosen metaphors never really works for me, though I can see the appeal. Maybe it’s because I’m some sort of a soulless golem who can only communicate through blunt language and jokes.
But I digress.
I’m not a big fan of poetry, but Sarah Chorn’s Of Honey and Wildfires is poetry manifest in a form that makes sense to me. Chorn’s lush prose paints the harrowing, emotional tale of a family rent apart by tragedy, grief, and love. While the weird west world of Wildfires is certainly a beautiful one – that of a 18th-century style American frontier on the cusp of industrialization through the use of a miracle alchemical oil called ‘shine’ – the real star of the book is how Chorn expresses both the joy and sadness so innate in the human condition. Chorn uses words and phrases that can transform from gorgeous lyricism to daggers and stones in the space of an instant. I’m not big on emotions, but if I was, this book would have made me feel them.
Of Honey and Wildfires is cut from the very same sort of cloth as Krystle Matar’s Legacy of The Brightwash (though Wildfires far predates it), but is a much quicker read, though no less emotionally devastating. So if you enjoy deep dives into the very crevices of the human soul with the trappings of light fantasy, make sure Sarah Chorn’s Of Honey and Wildfires is on your list – not to mention the two sequels. You won’t regret it.