The follow-up to the fan-favorite A Conspiracy of Truths “reveals the author’s stunning prose, beautiful worldbuilding, and emotional detail,” (Library Journal, starred review) and serves as a timely reminder that the words we wield can bring destruction—or salvation. Three years ago, Yfling watched his master-Chant tear a nation apart with nothing but the words on his tongue. Now Ylfing is all alone in a new realm, brokenhearted and grieving—but a Chant in his own right, employed as a translator to a wealthy merchant of luxury goods, Sterre de Waeyer. But Ylfing has been struggling to come to terms with what his master did, with the audiences he’s been alienated from, and with the stories he can no longer trust himself to tell. That is, until Ylfing’s employer finds out what he is, what he does, and what he knows. At Sterre’s command, Ylfing begins telling stories once more, fanning the city into a mania for a few shipments of an exotic flower. The prices skyrocket, but when disaster looms, Ylfing must face what he has done and decide who he wants to a man who walks away and lets the city shatter, as his master did? Or will he embrace the power of stories to save ten thousand lives? In this “wise, moving, and captivating adventure” (Publishers Weekly, starred review), a young storyteller must embrace his own skills and discover that a story can be powerful enough to bring a nation to its knees, certainly. But in the right hands, a story can rebuild a broken dam, keep the floodwaters back, and save a life—or thousands of lives.
Alexandra Rowland is the author of several fantasy books, including A Conspiracy Of Truths, A Choir Of Lies, and Some by Virtue Fall, as well as a Hugo Award-nominated podcaster (all sternly supervised by their feline quality control manager). They hold a degree in world literature, mythology, and folklore from Truman State University.
They are represented by Britt Siess of Britt Siess Creative Management.
This book took me nine months (to the day, almost) to finish. Let me explain why.
There are novels that come along once in a lifetime, I think - stories that hit you exactly where you need it to hit you exactly when you need it. A CHOIR OF LIES is absolutely one of those books.
I started reading this right after starting a job I was already mostly uncertain about. I had gotten a degree in something I was only chasing because of the promise of large paychecks and the mythical concept of "making it", when deep down I already knew it wasn't for me. But I thought I could continue to delude myself into thinking it was okay to do this, it was okay to keep powering through, to keep doing what I'd been doing for so long already. So I took that job, and started work. And hated it.
Three weeks later, this book, all by itself at the bottom of a New Releases shelf at my local bookstore, stood out to me. So I bought it with the money I earned from my very first paycheck and started to read it.
And kept reading it.
And kept reading it.
And kept reading it.
Every time I picked it up, it imparted some significant emotion on me. Some sort of life lesson I didn't know I needed. Nine times out of ten, whenever I sat down with A CHOIR OF LIES, I'd walk away with tears in my eyes, only having been able to stomach reading 20 pages. I don't mean that in the way you expect - that this book was terrible (it's not), or that it was something I was trying to force myself to complete out of some sort of desperate determination to leave no book unfinished (I wasn't).
No - it was entirely the opposite. This book was so, so good. It hurt me, repeatedly, and gave me the space to rebuild myself, and to recenter myself, so that I was ready for the next time I picked it up and did the whole thing all over again.
This book is full of regrets, and fears, and self-imposed ultimatums. It's a young man's cry for help to a world that couldn't be assed about him one way or another, and how he has to find himself before he can help others. It's a story about making decisions in your childhood years that have lasting effects, despite not knowing what those consequences might be at the time. It's a story about getting burned, about getting burned, about getting burned, and still standing tall. It's the story of someone learning its okay to turn around, to make an about-face, and to try something new, even if it's scary.
I haven't been this repeatedly punched in the gut by a book since A MONSTER CALLS. I haven't felt this rewritten by a book since I read THE MARTIAN. A CHOIR OF LIES joins an extremely short list of books that have honest to god changed my life. If I'm being entirely truthful, the reason it took me so long to read A CHOIR OF LIES was because I was a little bit terrified to be in a world where I'd finished it.
Maybe it won't hit you as hard as it hit me, and maybe you won't find it as powerful as I did, but I still think you should read it, because beautiful, serendipitous books like these you find on store shelves might be telling you something you need to hear.
I am upset because I wanted to love this book and instead I am conflicted, confused, and slightly annoyed. I LOVED Alexandra Rowland's first book and I was super excited to read a companion novel feature Ylfing that is about a FANTASY TULIP MANIA aka the coolest idea for a book ever. And this definitely did deliver with the tulip mania premise (although?? I really can't under why people would buy plants that smell like rotting meat no matter how pretty they are), footnotes, cool epistolary format, stories within stories, and the message of hope, overcoming a bad history, and communities coming together to help each other in a time of need. But man, I feel like this book was retroactively trying to make me hate the main character of the first book and it was a really weird experience. Like, yes, Chant in the first book is objectively kind of a self-centered jerk who does selfish and bad things over the course of A Conspiracy of Truths, but you as the reader are supposed to root for him because he's fun to read about, unfairly being put on trial by a bizarre bureaucracy-obsessed country, and not as grouchy as he pretends to be! And now this book turns around and is like "actually Chant was an emotionally abusive asshole who hated Ylfing and made him a Chant just to get rid of him and fuck you for enjoying reading about him in the first book." Which is just?? A very baffling narrative shift that I CANNOT wrap my head around??? Also, while I do normally love books with footnotes I feel like the ones in this book were used only so (a) Mistress Chant could yell at Ylfing for being depressed, which was not a fun experience to read about, (b) Mistress Chant refusing to acknowledge that oral storytelling means that history and traditions can get remembered differently by different people, or (c) beating me over the head with messages like "this is foreshadowing!!!" and "this character is bad news actually!!!" which I found exasperating because I am perfectly capable of picking up on narrative clues on my own. Basically: I came out of this book frankly questioning if I was remembering the events of the first book in this series correctly and honestly kind of confused by some of the writing choices. Possibly I am just being ridiculous, maybe it's been too long since I read Conspiracy, or maybe I just don't understand the author's intentions, but the whole set-up for this book kind of baffled me. I think this may be the first book I've ever encountered where I think I might have enjoyed it more if I had only read it as a standalone. Oh well. I'm not saying I'm never reading another book by Alexandra Rowland, it's just that this one really wasn't what I was expecting and not in a good way.
When we last saw Yfling, Chant (his Master-Chant) had been the wrecking ball that brought down Nuryevet. Yfling, a sweet young man who loved nothing more than a good tumble with any handsome young man who was willing, always seemed like a deer caught in the glare of Chant's determination to bring down a corrupt, absurdist government. Three years later, we find him on his own, now himself a Chant, and the title of the book could have easily been "What the Hell Am I Doing Here?" or "How in the Name of Stories Am I Going to Fix This?" or possibly "I Don't Want to Be a Chant Anymore, Please Make It Stop." Of course, we're only getting part of what Yfling wanted to tell us because someone has redacted what he wrote (he wasn't supposed to be writing it down in the first place) and that includes burning some of it (starting at Chapter 3, just so you'll be prepared) and also has liberally commented all over what remains and we are not talking nice commentary ("You little shit.") in the beginning, though it does soften considerably by the almost end ("Ah, child. You are still so young."), which is something of a relief. Because Yfling needs the encouragement. He might have to fix a few things. Well, a lot of things. Okay, just because you make a mess doesn't mean you can't fix it. The right stories can fix things. Usually. Oh, and there is Love! Yfling, who has such a good heart, so deserves True Love. Frankly, the entire book is like a love letter to stories- those who tell them and those who read them.
If you loved A Conspiracy of Truths as much as I did, this will definitely be more of your jam. Rowland's books make me feel happy and hopeful and should make us all want to be worthy of our gifts that can bring about change. #hopepunkforever
Alexandra Rowland has assured me there will shortly be an audiobook offering of "A Choir of Lies" and I'll be buying it tout suite. I've listened to Conspiracy an embarrassing number of times.
I received a Digital and Paper Review Copy from Saga Press in exchange for an honest review. And frankly I am so glad no one has reached through my computer yet to redact this statement or add footnotes, I can't tell you.
More enjoyable than the first one! This time we follow the then apprentice, now full Chant, as he chronicles a new story (his own), on paper, the text we are actually reading. Only there is also a reader within the fiction who is annotating this text as part of a kind of mystery (and injects a fair bit of humour, too).
The meta addition is really fun, both because I wanted to know who was making these footnotes and crossing out the text and what not, but also because their personality really came through as a secondary character.
The actual plot is semi interesting. It’s nice to have queer rep, especially neat when he would Recontextualizing stories of straight characters with a queer lens. But there wasn’t as many stories as the first because the main tension is that he just is not about that chant life right now. The process of storytelling is something he’s disenchanted with, and he’s in a sort of mid life crisis situation. The stakes are pretty low, especially compared to the first. It’s a much more quiet story, and that makes the fairly large page count seem a bit overindulgent. But I did like the conclusion and the structure and format with the meta component and conversation were absolutely engaging. Never was it in danger of being put down by me.
Last fall, I had the great pleasure of reading Alexandra Rowland’s A Conspiracy of Truths. This incredible novel felt like it was written just for me, because the main character was such a knowledgeable storyteller that he was able to weaponize it to escape mortal peril. Rowland’s fantasy meditation on the power of story continues in A Choir of Lies. Here, the apprentice of the protagonist of A Conspiracy of Truths, has been attempting to make his way in the wide world as a Chant. Being a professional wandering storyteller is a hard enough job, but our young Chant is suffering intense grief, feelings of betrayal, and a hefty dollop of existential crisis...
Read the rest of my review at A Bookish Type. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley, for review consideration.
The sequel to A Conspiracy of Truths, which I described as “An old man is trapped in prison, accused of witchcraft. An old man who has spent his life learning how to tell stories, and manipulate perceptions as a Chant storyteller. An old man who will do anything to get free. An old man, who single-handedley manages to take down an entire government from a prison cell.....”
This follows Chant’s apprentice, Ylfing. At the start of the book he’s very depressed, having been abandoned by his master before his training had finished. He’s not sure he even wants to become a Chant. He ends up in a fantasy version of Amsterdam, single-handedly encouraging a tulip mania to start. But when the flower bulbs get diseased, things start to go badly wrong. His new boyfriend’s proposal throws everything into even worse confusion. A unique storytelling style with footnotes and asides to the reader, this is so meta and fun to read.
This was unexpected. I enjoyed the first book in this duology, although they do stand alone if you don't wanna read both, but this one I loved. We follow a different main character than the first one, and it was one I really already liked, and following him was a joy. In a sense. Ylfing is a really sad guy for a lot of this novel, but for me it was a relatable sort and I really sympathised with him. It's about him really screwing up and owning up to it. But it's also about him figuring out, who he is and what he wants. There are also a lot of footnotes. A lot. But I loved them. Generally I don't mind them as most people do, but these were amazing. They're from a different person, who is really different from Ylfing, and they point out discrepancies which was a lot of fun. I thought they were a great addition to the story and were funny to read. And another thing I really loved was all the casual queerness. It makes sense with the author being queer, and I loved it a lot. The story takes place in a Amsterdam-inspired city and Ylfing explains differences between multiple culture, for example, how in that city there are six genders that are somewhat explained and I thought that was great. Anyway, this was an amazing book!
First, the style is daring. Alex's first book, A CONSPIRACY OF TRUTHS, had an unreliable narrator telling his story to a mysterious witness. This book continues the unconventional style by having the text itself be, in story, a manuscript given to someone who is annotating their own opinions in footnotes. It really plays with the medium - names get crossed out, chapters omitted, snarky footnotes abound. It's lovely.
Beyond the style though, this is a book completely effusing HOPE. Characters make mistakes, they do things that are wrong, but they sincerely and ardently want to fix it. They don't run from their mistakes (well, some do). They try to fix them, and they face forgiveness for what they have done.
This might make the book sound saccharine, and in lesser hands it might well be. Alex, however, has created characters that are delightful, sincerely, and as complicated as the world we live in. There's no megalomanical villains twirling their mustaches and burly dudes with swords. There is Ylfing (the apprentice from the first book), meeting people he cares about, trying to help people and do good. It's these characters that rivet you to the story because they're - for their faults - so sincere.
Ultimately, this is a book that takes your hand, it tells you that you make not be perfect and that you have made mistakes. And that it's okay those things are true, because you still matter.
A story about storytellers and storytelling and identity.
My fave quotes:
"[...] because who you are is just the stories you tell yourself about yourself, and the intersection of all the hurts you've ever had and how you survived them." (p 93)
"Who you are isn't the thoughts in your head or the fears in your heart or the name someone else gives you or takes from you. Who you are is what you do. It's the actions you take, or that you don't take. It's the way you help people, or don't. It's the good that you put into the world, or the bad. Which means - again, again I come back to this conclusion - that you can choose who you are. There's always a choice" (pp 316-317)
I liked this book well enough once I got about halfway into it, but the first half was brutally hard - not so much because of anything about the story or writing, but because the concept of the book is that it’s a manuscript written by Ylfing for someone revealed later, and that someone had gone through and commented on the manuscript in footnotes. Except, the problem was, Ylfing spends a lot of the first part of the book traumatized and flailing around, and the annotator berates him for how he’s doing trauma, to the point I had to stop reading the footnotes so I could stop flinching.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
(A more useful review: I enjoyed this follow-up, semi-stand-alone novel by Alexandra Rowland. She's excellent with characterization; I especially love her strong middle-aged women. It was nice to see some of the emotional fallout damage from the first book--it would have been easy to gloss over that.)
it seems so trivial to say that its about the power of stories but it is about that and its about so much more than that. it hurts like fucking hell to read but it also feels right to have finished it. changed my mind. i cannot be serious, its just not ME. so for gods sake can we give ylfing a nice bf, he's had enough of trash men in his life thank you.
The footnotes (the footnotes!) bring so much life to this narrative. Lovelier and more enjoyable to read than Conspiracy, and Conspiracy is so much more devastating in hindsight.
The sequel to A Conspiracy of Truths which I loved. A Choir of Lies follows Ylfing a few years after the end of A Conspiracy of Truths (which was narrated by his mentor-Chant, a storyteller extraordinaire) after the [spoilers]. Ylfling writes the story and it is interwoven with extensive footnotes from some of the people he meets along the way, commenting sometimes in the future, knowing what has happened. Ylfing finds himself at the centre of a tulip mania and he has to find a way to find himself, extricate himself and save a town from ruin. It took a while for me to get into the novel, but the ending was worth it and definitely a series that is worth a reread to see all the 'obvious' hints and delicious metafiction elements.
In the final analysis I think I don't love this spinoff sequel to A Conspiracy of Truths quite as much as the original novel, but it's a welcome return to a land where diversity in race, gender, sexuality, disability, and other traits is accepted matter-of-factly and stories in the right hands have the power to shake society. Our old protagonist Chant is nowhere to be found, but his former apprentice has taken to keeping a journal, with the text of the book made up of his entries and the accompanying footnote annotations from yet another member of their order -- a woman who's initially exasperated over the secrets he's putting down in writing, yet grows more understanding the further she reads.
That's a fun and distinctive structure with built-in questions of narrator reliability, and the storyline of economic speculation driving a bubble in the price of flowers is unusual for the fantasy genre as well. Mostly, though, this is a personal glimpse of a character at a crossroads in life, trying to recover from a past trauma and decide if he's chosen the proper calling for who he wants to be in the future. It's slower and less twistedly funny than the first volume, but I wouldn't be surprised to hear some readers prefer this one to that (or its earnest young gay man to the caustic elderly antihero from before). And I do appreciate the deeper impression of the Chants as a people that's revealed by the differences in the three perspectives that we now have. Overall, I am beyond satisfied with this tale, and eagerly hoping author Alexandra Rowland has plans up their sleeve for the series to continue.
I had a really, really hard time getting into this one. Like 250 pages hard. Rowland created a lead character in a funk and it put me into a funk as a reader (in large part why I've never finished Crime and Punishment or The Magic Mountain). Those are good books to be compared to, except that I found them all fairly dismal trudges. I was this close to doing a DNF on this one as well, but I'm glad I hung in. Eventually the footnotes got a little more informative and a little less snarky, Ylfing / Brother Chant grew something resembling a spine and there was a point to whole thing. If you find Ylfing to be a not-entirely-annoying character you will undoubtedly enjoy the book more. Unfortunately, I mostly wanted Sister Chant to dope-slap him the way she kept threatening to in the footnotes. (Otherwise, once I had figured out who was the voice behind the footnotes, I mostly found them annoying, too.) When Sister Chant finally got a voice of her own was the first time in two books that I really enjoyed one of the main characters ... which might temper my enthusiasm for reading a third book by this author. So wildly uneven but ultimately worth the read. Can't imagine who I would recommend it to .... If you liked the first one but thought you wanted a lot more of the hopelessly romantic, naive, and fairly dense sidekick, this book is for you?? 3.5 stars.
When I heard that this sequel would star Ylfing, I was really looking forward to reading the book because he was such a wide-eyed, innocent and fun character in A Conspiracy of Truths. But Alexandra Rowland just sucked out all the personality and joy from him (especially egregious in the first third of the book) with the story she was telling. The plot itself revolving around a flower really wasn’t that interesting or compelling, especially compared to the first book that involved queens and conspiracies and court intrigue. I think a better story could have been told and this was wasted potential.
Picking up some time after the end of "A Conspiracy of Truths", we reunite with Ylfing, who is now a Chant, and is looking for work. He travels around, before settling in a new town, and begins working as translator for Sterr de Waeyer, a wealthy distributor of luxury items.
Yfling has no desire to ply his trade as a Chant, relating stories. In fact, doing so causes Yfling pain, as he still feels shocked and hurt by how his former master tore apart a realm with only his words.
Ylfing encounters another Chant, a woman, and is shocked and disgusted by the differences she embodies as a Chant: she wears pretty clothes and jewels, regularly tells stories at different gatherings, has two apprentices, and uses music in her stories. Every time she tries to connect with Yfling, he repulses her, citing how she is not actually a Chant because of how she comports herself. This causes repeated arguments between them, as she says he is clearly not aware of what Chants really are and implies his former Master did a poor job training and educating Yfling.
At the same time, Sterre discovers that Yfling is a storyteller, and she takes advantage of his naivete, using his skill to create a buying frenzy for a pretty flower. He unknowingly causes the financial ruin of some and earns the disgust from Mistress Chant for misusing his ability.
When Yfling finally realizes that Mistress Chant hasn't been lying to him and he finally realizes that he's behaved much like his Master did with respect to not caring how his words influenced others negatively, Yfling finally has the epiphany he needed about what it really means to be a Chant, and to begin working to rectify his mistakes.
I loved this! From the framing of the story: Yfling's memoirs being hiariously commented/annotated by the Mistress Chant, to the two Chants' in-story arguments. Also, I loved how we discover that the Chant in book one, though masterful at manipulating people to save his own life, was doing a pretty bad job of training Yfling, and even going so far as harming him, as Chant's casual and repeated dismissal of Yfling's sensitivity and kindness and lack of training warped Yfling's understanding of how he should treat others, leaving him traumatized mentally and professionally.
Also, I liked Rowland's use of the actual Dutch tulip craze in the 1700s as an influence on her story, showing how Yfling's naive igniting of a flower craze in the town has negative, economic repercussions to many people, once it's discovered that the flowers aren't all they've been sold as.
This is wonderful, hopeful, and very funny book, and I loved it for how the story was related, and for what it had to say about kindness and responsibility.
WOW. There are so many layers of story in this story about storytelling! It's presented as a diary or journal by Ylfing, the sweet cinnamon roll apprentice from A Conspiracy of Truths. The diary is full of footnotes, which turn out to be reactions, commentary, counter-arguments, and speculation by a different character. Both writers tell you they're unreliable narrators, but also that they think story-telling is a type of truth-telling.
The core story is about something like Tulip Mania in a city something like Amsterdam--but it's also about things like True Love (does it exist? we just don't know), gods (who *probably* exist but you don't want to give them ideas), the nature of society, and the importance of cooking. It's very Pratchettian, though without most of the funny bits and more plausible, less loopy.
An extremely good book I'll be thinking about a lot. The early parts are somewhat frustrating because the older, wiser character doesn't appear to recognize depression, bipolar disorder, OR the effects of trauma & abuse--but part of the point of the book is, why are you looking for an older, wiser character to take care of everything? And what's a reliable narrator, anyway?
The first book was so much fun (yes it was also terrible, but still) and I kinda expected this one to be fun as well - instead it hurt me in ways I didn’t think was possible for a book. And I’m mad at it and I’m mad at myself and I’m mad at being reminded of those dying remains of something I loved with all my goddamn heart. When you’re young and idealistic you think the passion for your craft, your art, will fuel you forever and then somewhere along the way you realize it’s all burned up. Do I keep dragging them with me in hope that I can revive them somehow or do I just cut myself free? It hurts, it fucking hurts to just admit it.
But I can hear Mistress Chant’s voice in my head - don’t be so fucking dramatic. And Ylfing managed to rebuild himself into something…different. Maybe I can, too.
I feel like this was honestly a great book. Well written, interesting characters, got really engrossed with the story. I only remember snippets from the first book, but I do remember the feeling of being disappointed to learn that Rowland had changed the focus to the apprentice for this book. Now though, that was great. Really good.
Really great. I love the tone of these books and their sense of humor. This one was just magnificent, even better than the first one. I want more from the author!
Though this is billed as a standalone sequel to A Conspiracy of Truths, I can't imagine reading this without knowing one of the pivotal moments of Ylfing's life. A Conspiracy of Truths was more as an intrigue-focused story of stories, whereas the nominal plot of a fantasy version of "tulip mania" in A Choir of Lies takes the backseat to a character-focused look at Ylfling, mixed in with some creative structure (there are over 300 footnotes) and some unreliable narration. I'm honestly left a bit perplexed at the end, though knowing I read something great.
Holy shit, that was... so good?! Like so good, you do not understand: the first book was phenomenal, highly recommend it on audiobook but this baby made me tear up so many times!!!
Pleas, please, pleas, read this book for my soft boy Yfling, he deserves all the love!
I didn't mean to pick this up immediately after finishing A Conspiracy of Truths, but it was a really slow day at work and this book was available to borrow on Overdrive, so here we are.
The only thing that made me finish the book was the fact that there was nothing else for me to do at work. It was an infuriating read.
First of all, the double narration with the footnotes was initially promising, but became exhausting really quick. I soon stopped reading the footnotes because it was too bothersome to click through to them for the reward of becoming even more annoyed at the footnote narrator. It was in total almost 400 footnotes to the 330 pages of the e-book. Too much for too little reward.
Second, I couldn't stand Ylfing.
Third, the Fantasy Tulip bubble in Fantasy Amsterdam was too thinly veiled for me to be believable. I mean, this is fantasy, I know how ridiculous it sounds, but it wasn't realistic. I don't know how to explain this in an understandable way, but I simply didn't buy the Fantasy Tulip bubble plot. As the It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia meme goes, "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about [speculative bubbles] to dispute it".
The worldbuilding in general, and especially names, draws a lot of inspiration from real world languages and cultures, and I do not mind that per se (I did not have any issues with it at all while reading A Conspiracy of Truths), but the suspension of disbelief is promptly killed by characters calling each other "Monsieur" and "Mevrouw" in a fantasy written in English.
It's been years since I've disliked something I've read so much, and never that it's been in a "I'm not mad but disappointed" kind of way. I'm struggling to come up with redeeming factors for this novel. I just found it so exhausting to read.
Someone else said in their review that they'd rated the first book five stars but that this one was an even BETTER five stars, and I honestly couldn't agree more. This book is absolutely brilliant. It does all sorts of weird things with structure, but they don't seem contrived, they just work. There's a lot of good stuff in here about stories and accountability and loss and healing from trauma and it made me cry on at least two separate occasions.
Don't believe that it's a standalone, though; imho you definitely need to read A Conspiracy of Truths first for this one to make sense and, more importantly, to be emotionally impactful.
Okay, I'll be first to admit that it doesn't take much for a book to make me cry, but I can't remember any that made me tear up with every other chapter. I wish I was exaggerating. And is this a tragic story? No!! It's just a boy and he's young and he doesn't know what to do with his life and I know that as someone who has at least one technically useless, six-years-of-my-life-that-seemingly-led-to-nowhere academic title to their name that I was bound to connect to this quite viscerally, but I also wonder if this isn't the one Story (haha get it) that is - unlike finding true love - really universal to all of us? Nevermind, I'm tearing up again. What a good book. What a book.