SARAH BETH DURST The Spellshop. Reviewed by Amelia Dudley
Sarah Beth Durst calls her new novel ‘cozy fantasy’ and delivers a tale of magic, persecution – and jam-making.
Librarian Kiela flees the burning Great Library of Alyssium with Caz, her chatty, sentient spider-plant assistant, and as many priceless (and highly illegal) spellbooks as she can stow in her (also technically stolen) boat. With no other options to escape the revolution that has turned into a civil war, they head for the remote island of Caltrey that Kiela and her late parents left when she was a child:
‘It’s small. Just a cottage. But …’ It was beautiful. At least it was beautiful in her mind, preserved in her memory as lovely and fragile as a soap bubble. Now it was probably infested with bats, mice and bears, and the roof had most likely caved in. ‘I just never expected to go back there.’ At least not without them.
‘Is it nice?’
‘Very. I think. It could have changed.’ I’ve changed. She’d lost her magenta freckles and the blue pigtails years ago, and she’d gained an advanced degree in library studies and a host of anti-social tendencies.
Determined the keep the spellbooks safe, Kiela tries to remain emotionally distant from the nosy islanders, but it is impossible for her to ignore how much harder their lives have become over the years without legal access to the kind of magical knowledge she secretly hoards. Simple homemade spells, including those used to help maintain agricultural crops beyond their natural range, were once commonplace but became illegal under Imperial rule. The punishment for any unapproved magic use has long been a horrible, sadistic death in a manner to fit the crime. For years magic has only been a tool for the rich, and Imperial sorcerers gradually stopped coming to the outer islands to help them prosper.
With no way of knowing the outcome of the revolution and the current legality of home-brewed magic, can Kiela somehow help the islanders of Caltrey without being found out? Seeing a gap in the local market, she decides to open a jam shop and also try to sell ordinary-looking plant remedies (that definitely aren’t enchanted by her and Caz in the backyard).
A librarian and a walking, talking spider plant can’t possibly save the people of the Empire from a revolution that turned violent and brought out the worst in some of its members – burning books is never a good sign. But maybe they can help the people of Caltrey deal with the consequences of being neglected by those in charge. There’s a strong message about at least doing something to make your little corner of the world a better place if there is nothing more within your power, and there is a lot to be said for that.
This book is beautifully written with short and snappy prose that reflects Kiela’s vibrant personality:
‘You need shelves for jam?’ [he] asked. ‘Why jam?’
‘Exactly what I’ve been wanting to know,’ Caz said.
Because she had the raspberry bushes. Because the recipe was in her parents’ cookbook. Because jam made people happy. You couldn’t eat jam and be sad. It was fundamentally impossible … But she didn’t say any of that. She simply said, ‘It’s nice.’
The plot ends up being more intricate than expected, which is always a good surprise. It’s also refreshing to see characters who are portrayed as having anxiety actually struggle with it and not just shrug it off completely as soon as it becomes convenient for the story. There’s definitely potential for readers to find the social awkwardness of certain characters cringe-worthy, but this is really just a testament to how accurate these scenes are as a representation of human interaction. The central romance does add something to the story as well, without laying it on too thick and making that one relationship the entire focus as sometimes happens.
The main character ends up being a bit more deft at dealing with people than she ever would have expected. My mother would be pleased as one of her strategies for avoiding awkward questions one would rather not answer is something Kiela uses a lot – encouraging the other person to talk about themselves instead – and it works a treat:
He was, she quickly discovered, as fond of talking as his aunt, but he preferred questions. ‘Where are you from?’ ‘Did you come by boat?’ ‘Have you ever seen a kraken?’ ‘Have you met the emperor?’ ‘What’s the palace like?’ ‘Is it true the streets of Alyssium are made of flowers?’ ‘Do you know any nobles?’ ‘Have you ever been in the palace?’ ‘Do you know any sorcerers?’
Not really wanting to answer any of that, but especially the last question, she redirected it back at him. ‘Do you?’
And he was off.
The official blurb talks about an ‘unexpected romance’ and I couldn’t help but think, Well, I’m certainly expecting it now. But, to be fair, there is an unexpected element to the story.
It is also a little funny hearing characters talk about helping fruit trees thrive in the wrong soil or climate with magic. Adding mulch, compost and poo in real life is rather less glamorous than using spells, it’s true.
The Spellshop is a heart-warming standalone tale about finding your place in the world. The characters are delightful and, after you’ve read it, if someone asks you to ‘picture your happy place’, it might look something like Caltrey.
Sarah Beth Durst The Spellshop Tor 2024 PB 384pp $34.99
Amelia Dudley has degrees in plant biology. But despite spending a lot of time in the garden, her plants still occasionally die.
You can buy The Spellshop from Abbey’s at a 10% discount by quoting the promotion code NEWTOWNREVIEW.
You can also check if it is available from Newtown Library.
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