A HISTORY OF GLITTER AND BLOOD by Hannah Moskowitz
Friday, March 11, 2016
Publisher: Chronicle Books
Publication Date: August 18th, 2015
Song I Played While Reading: Scars by Tove Lo
Rating: 5 stars
This is not a love story.
This is not a work of fiction. Not some fairy tale full of romance and heartbreak. Not some storybook where lessons are learned and everything turns out rosy.
This is history. It is real. (As real as I could tell it.) There are cold facts and hard truths. There is bloodshed and sickness and glitter that scrapes your skin, cuts your lips, and gets all over everything. There is jealous and lust and rage and boredom. These things are truth. And truth is hard to come by these days
So, once there was revolution. There were things we couldn't predict. Choices we'd have to make. There was a city so beautiful we loved it too hard. And, once upon a time, there were four fairies in the city who hadn't yet been maimed.
Whoever decided to write that disgustingly underrated summary on Goodreads should be fired. The summary that you just read is from the dust jacket. What the summary on GR does is generalize this entire story. It makes people think, "Hmm, that sounds like something I've read before.", when in reality, I guarantee you've never read anything quite like this.
It took me a while to realize that this was an actual history book, written by one of the characters. It was his take on the events that occurred, since fairy's in this world are known to be flighty and never write anything down for other generations to read about. But what threw me off was that he was writing frin the POV of Beckan, the only girl in this group of friends. So for the first 120 pages, I thought this was some quirky third person narrative, with the intention of making it seem like it was the authors rough draft, because there were instances where the story would stop and there would be notes to the authors self to draw a map or moments when they said "Once upon a time, there was an author who couldn't write a fucking book." I thought it was interesting and different, so I went along with it. But once I read a particular note that talked about a certain scene that just happened, and "the author" wanting to go back to that scene and relive it, it hit me like a fucking train; straight up drop-the-book-and-gasp-so-suddenly-and-deeply-that-I-choked kind of thing, and then I yelled "NO WAY!" and flipped back through the pages, realizing that I was an idiot and seeing things much more clearly.
Even the damn book underneath the dust jacket is an exact replica of the book the guy, Scrap, is writing furiously in during all of his scenes. He's obsessed with writing a history book, since no other faerie has, and it's genius. It made A HISTORY OF GLITTER AND BLOOD that much more special, almost as if I was holding the last vestiges of this known event in time, even if this is obviously a work of fiction. It was raw and beautiful and surprising and full of so much incredible depth that I would have to stop and take a deep breath. I don't want to say much more, since this is the kind of story that should be able to throw every one of it's surprises at you with jaw-dropping precision, straight to your heart. It's like a treasure book. You need to experience everything all on your own. I was even hesitant to bring up the whole thing with Scrap being the actual "author", but I think it'll give future readers a better grip on what's going on, instead of muddling through it like I did. It clears up a lot of things quickly, so having that knowledge will help you to focus more on the story and it's people and how amazing this is.
Phew, that was the longest non-review I've ever written! Please, please pick this one up and give it a chance. Don't judge it by it's ratings on Goodreads. This is definitely a hit or miss for people, but I can guarantee that everyone who enjoys it will be so thankful they gave it a chance.
"I'm fine. It's warm out."
"You're always hot."
You're always cold. It's her default response to both her fairy boys, nowadays.
But the truth is, Josha isn't. There is nothing cold and will never be anything cold about Josha. The entire world can try to trap him and soak him and freeze him solid, and he will stand in the kitchen burning like a lantern."
"Dont laugh." He doesn't, but there isn't anything complimentary about his seriousness; his heart just isn't in it.
She says, "Now you say, I can't believe it's you."
"That doesn't make sense."
"You're so surprised to see her that you say things that don't make sense."
"We're planning it out in advance, Beckan. We have time to figure out something that makes sense."
“I don't think those who die are any better than those who stay alive. They just look better. They can't mess anything up anymore.”
(Picture from Goodreads)
at 10:59:00 AM