Roses and Rot

How far would you go, how much would you sacrifice, to have everything you've ever wanted? That is the question central to Roses and Rot.

Not having enough talent seemed almost worse than not having any, because having a little meant having just enough to know what you lacked. (p. 73)

When I learned Roses and Rot was a retelling of Tam Lin, I was thankful it'd been several years since I'd read the ballad. That way there might be more surprises as I read this book's version. All I really remembered about the ballad was a mortal woman had to pull her lover from a horse and hold on to him in order to save him from the Queen of Faerie.

Stories of the Fair Folk are not at all then what we think of as fairy tales, those moralistic stories show more wherein evil is punished and virtue triumphs, that were set safely in once upon a time, and had happy endings guaranteed. True fairy tales are horror stories. (p.118)

I adored that this love story centered around two sisters; the two of them, though bonded together in childhood against their narcissistic nightmare of a mother, grew apart after Imogen escaped to boarding school leaving Marin alone with their mother. Then they're brought back together by their acceptance into Melete, an elite postgrad arts program. And in the end they must save each other in different ways.

The story's imagery and sensory stimulation was vibrant and intoxicating -- alive. I could smell autumn at the Night Market; I could feel the perilous edge of the collapsed covered bridge. Blurring the lines between the mortal world and Faerie felt exhilarating and frightening. It's been a while since I've read a story in which Faerie is equal parts beautiful and terrifying, and I enjoyed the way Howard embraced the haughty nature of the Fae.

Roses and Rot is one of the most successful retellings in recent memory because it will delight readers familiar with Tam Lin whilst simultaneously resonate with readers completely unfamiliar with the story on which it's based.

Perhaps the only happily ever after is to survive to tell the story. (p. 183)

4 stars show less

Roses and Rot is about two sisters who are accepted into an artists' residency program which isn't as perfect as it initially appears to be.

I like stories that play around with fairytales, and I particularly like "Tam Lin" retellings. I appreciated the way this story does something different with the Tam Lin narrative, and I really liked Imogen's stories and her musings about fairytales and writing.

However...

Imogen and Marin's background and family dynamic are not things I can relate to. Nor can I relate to their experiences of ambition. I don't need to be able to personally relate if the story makes me understand where the characters are coming from - but Roses and Rot didn't do that. I wasn't invested in the characters' choices - I show more wasn't emotionally invested in the characters at all, unless being frustrated at their choices counts.

And perhaps the most frustrating thing was how close but not quite the whole thing was. Like this was a draft for a novel I could have loved, if it hadn't been published too soon. Definitely a Your Mileage May Vary book.

People say they want a fairy tale life, but what they really want is the part that happens off the page, after the oven has been escaped, after the clock strikes midnight. They want the part that doesn't come with glass slippers still stained with a stepsister's blood, or a lover blinded by an angry mother's thorns.

If you live through a fairy tale, you don't make it through unscathed or unchanged. show less

To me, the testament of a good story is how long it sticks with you after you finish. My favorite books are the ones that, no matter what else you might be doing, are always at the back of your mind. Wooing you. Reminding you that they exist. Begging for another read through. Kat Howard's Roses and Rot hasn't unleashed me from its magical confines yet. I finished it well over two days ago, and it just won't leave me be. I tell you, I'm not even upset. All I really want is a hardcover of this so I can lovingly read it over and over again.

I love fairy tales, with all of my being. To be more specific, I love the fairy tales that are a bit on the darker side. The ones where people might be changed forever, or even die. The ones were love show more only prevails after sacrifice. That's exactly how Howard's writing captured me. Imogen's story is equal parts heartbreaking and uplifting. It deals with the definition of love, with sisterhood, and with all the blood, sweat and tears that go into passionate art. Imogen's life is revealed in tandem. Both her present, and her past, play a part in the fairy tale that she is unknowingly being woven into. It's magical, and trust me when I say it's easy to get lost in.

Which brings me to my next two points. First of all, this is a very difficult book to read at times. It does deal with childhood abuse, both of the verbal and physical varieties. Like all good fairy tales, it also has its very sad portions, so be warned. My biggest warning though, is that this book is extremely hard to put down. Chances are high that you won't want to set it down at all. So this is me giving you a heads up, before you end up staying up well into the wee hours of the morning because you started this before bed. It's addictive.

I don't hand out five star reviews very easily. A book has to truly sweep me up, in order to make its way onto my list of favorite books. Roses and Rot did just that. I'm thrilled that I was able to read this, and saddened that it's over. I'll miss Melete, and all its magic. Another read through can't come soon enough. show less

Despite the fact that it has fairies, which are not my favorite magical creatures, I rather enjoyed this. I got involved with the two sisters and I enjoyed some of the side characters as well. It is interesting how Howard wrote this, with the writing sister sometimes including stories that reflect on what is happening around her. I got a little frustrated early on, when it was clear to the discerning reader what was going on at Melete, and the main character hadn't figured it out yet, but that didn't last very long, and then the interesting part became how the two sisters dealt with it.

Pros: lyrical writing, thought provoking, evocative

Cons:

Imogen is a writer while her younger sister Marin is a ballet dancer. Their mother supported Marin’s beauty and talent, as they reflected positively on her. She denounced Imogen’s storytelling as lies, punishing her as necessary. Imogen escaped but had to leave her sister behind. They grew up. This is the fairytale of two sisters, coming together after a decade apart, to work on their arts in an artist’s colony where things aren’t as they appear.

I loved this book. It resonated with me on so many levels. Howard captures the hard work, the fear, the loneliness, the exhilaration of being an artist, believing in yourself one moment while wondering if you’re good enough the show more next. She also captures the emotional turmoil of a broken family: the guilt, the attempts to reconcile the truth you know from the truth others believe, protecting yourself from harm while constantly dreading the next attack - whether physical or verbal.

The book is so lyrically written, it’s prose is beautiful, and often heart-wrenching. The snippets of Imogen’s stories that retell her childhood are so sad and yet so hopeful as well. The descriptions are vivid and lush, easy to picture and viscerally present as events progress.

I loved the characters and the hints of what’s happening at Melete, the campus where they’re studying. Everything felt real. The characters impacted each others lives in ways it was hard to imagine when the novel started. Though I thought there were times when Imogen should have been more honest and open with her sister, I can understand why such intimacy was difficult for them, given their upbringing and past.

This is a brilliant book and I can’t recommend it enough. show less

Imogen and her younger sister Marin escaped their abusive childhood, though not undamaged. Both of them have been selected for an exclusive artistic mentoring program that seems more than perfect. Both of them find good mentors and sexy love interests—and then secrets start to emerge. For every faerie gift, there is a price, and Imogen’s retellings of fairy tales turn out to be more relevant than she might’ve wished. It’s an elegant retelling of Tam Lin, along with a meditation on escaping a terrible past and the compromises people make to do so.

Okay, so, I'm quitting this book even though I love the premise and the writing's great.

With me so far? No? Me either.

Book is based on a premise of a prestigious artist's retreat. Two sisters, one a dancer, the other a writer, both make it into the retreat -- first time in its history that a pair of siblings both make it, and from this program often come stars in their chosen fields. So the sisters, they're learning and doing art and doing cool stuff... but there's a seedy underbelly (isn't there always?) to this whole thing, a darker purpose.

I'm right at the halfway point; the tension's high, the foundation for the story's phenomenal... and it's making me so anxious that I'm sick to my stomach.

There's a point somewhere earlier in the show more book that the protagonist mentions that when you're abused, you look at someone else who's had it so much worse and remind yourself that it could be worse, what you're going through isn't all that bad, etc. And then we got to the holidays, and the protagonist is remembering going through some pretty awful stuff with her narcissistic mother, and ... my childhood wasn't that bad, it could have been so much worse.

So, I'm not going to minimize it, but I'm also going to give myself some grace. This book is giving me anxiety attacks purely because of my own history. It is a good book with a good premise and interesting (and dark) as heck, but soooo not for me. show less