For me, this is that book.
The will to be polite, to maintain civility and normalcy, is fearfully strong. I wonder sometimes how much evil is permitted to run unchecked simply because it would be rude to interrupt it.
Now, I really can't emphasize enough how unique I found this reading experience to be., for various reasons, and I am already regretting not being able to fully translate my feelings in writing because I already knew my words will be inadequate. But I shall try my best.
First of all, I read this book over a period of 20 days. Now, in most cases, this will be something against the book. I am generally a fast reader, and my life has been so busy and hectic since September 2018 that in that period any book I didn't find insanely readable (and usually fun and empty because oh boy do I need to turn off my brain sometimes) gets thrown to the side. Therefore, I am either Not Reading or finishing a book in a day, really no in-between.
Except The Ten Thousand Doors of January. This book was definitely an In-Between, and what a glorious one at that. I didn't mind the slow reading or the blank holes between reading sessions in which life would interrupt and interfere because whenever I opened it my soul settled. It was such a delight, kind of like a secret treat to myself. Even a passage or a sentence could create this sense of rightness and calmness. I didn't want to rush this experience, didn't want to hurry it along because I knew as soon as I'd reach the end that I will miss it.
And I do.
“If we address stories as archaeological sites, and dust through their layers with meticulous care, we find at some level there is always a doorway. A dividing point between here and there, us and them, mundane and magical. It is at the moments when the doors open, when things flow between the worlds, that stories happen.”
Clearly, I'm a huge fan of the writing.
But it isn't just that aspect that I find so compelling about this novel. There is this world, and these characters, and the stories that they tell. Yes, in plural, because this novel is not just the story of January Scallar, but also that of Yule Ian and Adelaide Larson. It's the story of belonging and in-betweens, the story of paving your own way and opening doors for yourself--literally and figuratively. It's about coming to terms with yourself while simultaneously coming to terms with the fact your heroes are only human, even if they're in-human, and we don't always see them for what they are. It's a story about finding true companions, furry or otherwise. A story of great longing and despair, of fearsome passion. Of how love can bring you to do great and terrible things, abandon all you know, save your life or blind you to reality. A story of how, in some ways, love and fears are two of the most powerful elements in life, and can cause you to do great and terrible things.
It is a story about the power of words.
And as people who revel in words, who find them to be doors into different realities and dimensions, how could I not find myself sinking into this world?
I want more. More of Alix E. Harrow's writing, more of these characters, more of these worlds--ten thousand, you say? I want them all.
I doubt I have given my feelings or this book justice, but that's okay. Either way, it was the best possible book to close 2019 and open the new decade with. 2020 has started with a resounding BANG and I can't wait to see what more fantastic books I will find!