A Song Below Water

I have a rough relationship with YA fantasy (and YA in general). Time and time again it frustrates and disappoints me, but I still come back for more. I keep getting lured in by enticing, magic-filled book blurbs, only to be trampled on by simpering heroines with milk-pale skin and icy-blonde hair and a dueling pair of beefy himbos with gemstone-colored eyes competing for the love of those totally-average-yet-amazingly-exceptional girls!

This book is the complete opposite of all that and exactly what I need in my YA fantasy! I friggen’ loved it! It’s a modern, magical, own-voices adventure about sisterhood, family, and awesome magical creatures! It’s bittersweet and hopeful, with a dash of humor.

Can I call a YA fantasy powerful? show more Honestly, I’m so rarely blown away by any YA I read that I don’t have a good frame of reference for this. The characters are strong and realistic. There’s a big emphasis on found family, but also heritage. In this book, magical creatures are widely accepted as part of society. Except, that is, for sirens. And at this point, basically only Black women are sirens, so the book tackles not only racism, but speciesism. It’s also incredibly relevant to today’s current social climate and the scenes where our main characters attend protests are eerily similar to the videos I’ve seen of today’s protests, police brutality included.

My notes also say: YA that doesn’t feel YA. It doesn’t pander to readers. There was no love triangle! The physical descriptions are mostly limited to culturally relevant hairstyles and descriptions of magical creatures.

My notes ended with, “HOLY FUCK SO GOOD!” and really, what more do I need to say? show less

I fell in love with Morrow's storytelling in Mem, which instantly became one of my favourite books, and with A Song Below Water they have cemented themselves as one of the writers I am beyond in awe of for their imagination, craft, and the incisive, unflinching depiction of both moments of extreme emotions and trauma between family, friends and peers, and discrimination, particularly racism and misogynoir.

I am too tired to give this incredible book the review it deserves, so for now I will say that this one of the most readable and intimate stories of two unconventional sisters trying to understand themselves and the world, and one of the heaviest and most difficult reading experiences I have had due to the completely unfiltered and show more honest portrayal of racism and abuse with intimate personal reflection and visceral emotion. I genuinely had to take breaks and ended up triggering my C-PTSD and getting on the edge of having a panic attack -- this is on me for not making myself as aware of the CWs as I should and I only include to show the impact this book has on me.

I am really confused by some of the lukewarm responses to this blistering novel, as well as some seemingly odd and rather subjective responses to the fantastic elements, worldbuilding, and narrative. Nothing is perfect and this book does have it's flaws, but this novel is packed with quality, heart, and searing, exquisite depictions of emotion, as well as the frank and powerful discussion and exploration of seriously important topics. I have never read a YA novel that treats its intended audience with as much respect, honestly, and maturity.

Morrow truly is a master of their craft and I need to read everything she publishes. I will absolutely be picking up the second book in this series once I have had some time and space to process this one.

I'm just blown away and wish I wasn't so tired and writing this review with only one eye and a few braincells. I will have more thoughts and try to do this spectacular book more justice another time. show less

Tavia Phillips and Effie Freeman -- 'sisters' through a loose adoption -- live in a Portland, Oregon where supernatural creatures like elokos, sirens, sprites, etc. are a well-known fact. For some reason, most mythical beings are beloved or at least tolerated, but sirens are feared so badly that they survive by hiding in plain sight. Bad news for Tavia who is a siren by birth and intent on trying to connect with her dead grandmother so she can find a way to silence her siren call. Meanwhile, Effie doesn't know much about her own heritage -- her mom is dead and her father was never in the picture -- but she seems to be plagued by sprite activity that seems anything other than the light-hearted pranks that everyone else seems to ascribe show more to them. Can the two girls make it through junior year of high school unscathed? Will they ever find the answers for which they yearn?

So the premise of this book was super awesome -- a real world/supernatural mashup where the metaphors are there but the real stuff is as well. For instance, part of the reason there is so much bias against sirens is that they are almost always Black women. In addition, Morrow touches on police brutality, Black Lives Matter protests, microaggressions, etc. that are unfortunately all too real. It is mostly done in a way that doesn't sound didactic but rather meshing with the story perfectly. There is so much here that is important to consider and would also make for great discussions among teens (and adults). The world-building and the atmospheric tension are done perfectly. The two main characters are both compelling and endearing; as a reader, you really feel for them and root for them throughout the book. The side characters are also interesting on the whole, although I felt like there was more to Naema's story that wasn't fully addressed here.

But the book seemed to really suffer from a pacing problem in my opinion. It felt like about 200 pages of the 290-page book were setting the stage. I had a hard time getting into the book because it kept feeling like nothing much was happening on a plot level. There is so much backtracking to earlier parts of the girls' lives, with little hints thrown in here and there before they finally explain pivotal moments in their past. I felt like I was picking up and putting this book back down again fairly quickly a lot; perhaps that was all me and my mood when reading this book, but it truly felt more like a book about world building and character development than anything else. And that would be totally fine it was sort of explained as such, instead of being kind of billed as something with action.

Perhaps it didn't help that for me (older than the intended audience) it was so clearly obvious what Effie was from very early on the book, but hundreds of pages passed of her wondering what she could be. (I mean, as soon as it was introduced that she saw her childhood friends turned into sculptures in front of her eyes, I was like 'oh okay, she's Medusa.') If it was meant to be engaging piece of the book that readers were on the edge of their seats waiting for the big reveal, it failed for me. On the other hand, I do have to admit to being surprised by the twist that Wallace was the gargoyle, so props to the author on that one.

I know there's a sequel to this book already slated for release in the summer, so perhaps all that world building was so that there can be a continuation that can take off running; also, maybe some of the small lingering questions I have would be addressed. That being said, I'm not sure that I would read the sequel given that this one didn't grab and hook me the way I hoped it would. show less

"We should all speak like sirens.”

Bethany C. Morrow’s YA debut A SONG BELOW WATER lured me in like a siren song. A contemporary fantasy novel that explores what it means to own your voice in a world that wants to silence you, A SONG BELOW WATER brilliantly weaves commentaries on social justice, race, and activism into a story sparking with magic and mythos. Told in alternating first-person narration, it follows best friends Tavia and Effie as they navigate high school, crushes, mean girls, and coming of age as young Black women in a world where magical creatures are the norm.

Some of these magical creatures are revered, while some — like sirens — are feared. And, after already having to relocate once to hide her siren identity, show more Tavia knows all too well that her voice can be dangerous. While Tavia is forced to conceal her true self, Effie struggles to uncover who — or what — she really is. Trying to untangle her complicated family history is made even more complicated as she navigates increasingly more mysterious medical ailments and flashbacks from her past. The girls’ already complex lives are rocked to the core in the wake of a siren murder trial that sends activists to the streets in protest, pushes a famous fashion icon to come out publicly as a siren, and asks Tavia and Effie to rely on themselves and each other more than they ever have before.

A SONG BELOW WATER is a redemptive story of sisterhood, Black girl magic, and the joy that can come from owning your voice and your power. And the best news: Morrow is slated to release the second book in this series, A CHORUS RISES, in June of this year.


CW: police brutality, racism, self-harm show less

I love how this book takes on heavy themes of racism and ostracism with a light but never insubstantial touch. It also contains the best skewering I've yet to read of Portland/Seattle "right-on" but clueless middle-class white culture. I found the resolution at the end a little too quick, as is common in YA books, but I appreciated how it left more complexity and ambiguity at the end than is usual for YA.

First of all, this book is relevant, well-written, interesting, and unique. All of which are difficult to find in a single book it seems. I’m a sucker for fantasy and I definitely hadn’t recently read anything about mermaids, sirens, or any of the other mythological beings mentioned. The incorporation of different mythological creatures into a modern setting was well-done. The presence of varying mythos was interesting, but I would have liked more lore if I'm being honest. More importantly, this book contains representation that is desperately needed. Written about BIPOC by a BIPOC, it helps to fill very important gaps.

It's immediately apparent it is a social commentary. No spoilers, but the themes of injustice, racism, and show more division appear within the first pages, later expanding to more complicated themes of fear, division, etc. I certainly hope no one pushes the book away. While these are major themes, they don't overpower the book. You're still abe to enjoy the fantasy, mystery, and overall plot in light of its themes. That kind of representation and content in books is so incredibly important and is so well done. There are also beautiful themes of family and how “’real’ doesn’t apply to family.” Throw in some casual ASL and my representation gremlin is happy!

Bethany C. Morrow does a wonderful job writing emotion in a way that the reader can experience it with the characters. Confusion, anger, determination, acceptance, you feel them with Tavia and Effie. Furthermore, Morrow is able to create vibrant images in the reader's mind without being bogged down by details.

The plot of the book is interesting. I was surprised to find myself in the middle of a mystery I was eager to solve. My one complaint would be that it did feel a bit slow-paced to start with but not unbearably so. The characters feel and act their age, lending to the realistic feeling of the book despite the fantasy elements.

Tl;dr: Relevant, desperately needed representation, well-written, interesting, PLEASE READ IT. show less

I was not expecting this book to go as deep as it did into real life issues! Honestly was expecting more fantasy-based conflicts, not ones rooted in actual racism, institutionalized and direct/personal. There were both parallels and overt comparisons, and I think the author did a fantastic (heh) job walking in both worlds in that way.

I had no idea what an eloko was, going into this book. Might have benefitted from a few more hints at the beginning, but I wound up Googling after context wasn't enough for me. I also really wanted a little more insight into the relationship between gargoyles/sirens/gorgons in this world. But those are minor issues.