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We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep
Remy is a Chorister, one of the chosen few rescued from the surface world and raised to sing the Hours in a choir of young boys. Remy lives with a devoted order of monks who control the Leviathan, an aging nuclear submarine that survives in the ocean’s depths. Their secret mission: to trigger the Second Coming when the time is right, ready to unleash its final, terrible weapon.
But Remy has a secret too— she’s the only girl onboard. It is because of this secret that the sub’s dying caplain gifts her with the missile’s launch key, saying that it is her duty to keep it safe. Safety, however, is not the sub’s priority, especially when the new caplain has his own ideas about the Leviathan’s mission. Remy’s own perspective is about to shift drastically when a surface-dweller is captured during a raid, and she learns the truth about the world.
At once lyrical and page-turning, We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep is a captivating debut from newcomer author Andrew Kelly Stewart.
But Remy has a secret too— she’s the only girl onboard. It is because of this secret that the sub’s dying caplain gifts her with the missile’s launch key, saying that it is her duty to keep it safe. Safety, however, is not the sub’s priority, especially when the new caplain has his own ideas about the Leviathan’s mission. Remy’s own perspective is about to shift drastically when a surface-dweller is captured during a raid, and she learns the truth about the world.
At once lyrical and page-turning, We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep is a captivating debut from newcomer author Andrew Kelly Stewart.
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First published March 9, 2021
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About the author
Andrew Kelly Stewart
2 books19 followersAndrew Kelly Stewart’s writing spans the literary, science fiction, fantasy, and the supernatural genres. His short fiction has appeared in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, ZYZZYVA, and Juxtaprose, and his debut book, We Shall Sing a Song into the Deep, is availble from Tor.com. Andy lives and writes in San Marcos, CA, and is represented by John Silbersack with The Bent Agency.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 158 reviews
October 21, 2022
I have been mulling this novella for a couple of days now. Firstly, if I was the author and my publisher wanted to slap on a quote stating it was ‘A Canticle for Leibowitz meets The Hunt for Red October’, I would have an overwhelming urge to beat someone with a big stick.
Secondly, this is beautifully written. Despite the plot contrivances and melodrama, the writing really soars. The image of the whales singing in the dark depths where the submarine is lurking is indelible and becomes a haunting refrain to what transpires with the crew.
However, this just did not work for me in the end. I struggled to get an overall sense of the interior of the submarine, its different locations, and the spatial relationship with the crew. Honestly, a diagram of the layout would have been immensely helpful.
Normally when you think of monks singing together, you imagine a large dark space with good acoustics (and lots of incense). Obviously, this is not possible in the context of the book, but what impact would it then have on singing in this sort of environment?
We do find out how the monks commandeer the submarine (kind of), but I would have thought that their version of Catholicism would have been affected by their fanaticism and devolved into something much darker. Of course, their interpretation of ‘The Last Judgement’ is an indication that all is not well in the belfry.
We get just enough context to piece together what has happened in the external world, but I would have preferred for the ending to reintroduce the survivors into civilisation rather than leaving it so open-ended. Or maybe the author did it this way as it provides a good hook for a follow-up?
Despite my quibbles, I highly recommend this to anyone on the lookout for a well written, unusual, and relatively short SF book that is quite riveting and gives one much to ponder about, especially the link between religion, faith, nationalism, and patriotism. Oh, and let’s not forget utter bonkers madness as well. Kudos to Tor for continuing to let promising writers like Andrew Kelly Stewart surface from the depths.
Secondly, this is beautifully written. Despite the plot contrivances and melodrama, the writing really soars. The image of the whales singing in the dark depths where the submarine is lurking is indelible and becomes a haunting refrain to what transpires with the crew.
However, this just did not work for me in the end. I struggled to get an overall sense of the interior of the submarine, its different locations, and the spatial relationship with the crew. Honestly, a diagram of the layout would have been immensely helpful.
Normally when you think of monks singing together, you imagine a large dark space with good acoustics (and lots of incense). Obviously, this is not possible in the context of the book, but what impact would it then have on singing in this sort of environment?
We do find out how the monks commandeer the submarine (kind of), but I would have thought that their version of Catholicism would have been affected by their fanaticism and devolved into something much darker. Of course, their interpretation of ‘The Last Judgement’ is an indication that all is not well in the belfry.
We get just enough context to piece together what has happened in the external world, but I would have preferred for the ending to reintroduce the survivors into civilisation rather than leaving it so open-ended. Or maybe the author did it this way as it provides a good hook for a follow-up?
Despite my quibbles, I highly recommend this to anyone on the lookout for a well written, unusual, and relatively short SF book that is quite riveting and gives one much to ponder about, especially the link between religion, faith, nationalism, and patriotism. Oh, and let’s not forget utter bonkers madness as well. Kudos to Tor for continuing to let promising writers like Andrew Kelly Stewart surface from the depths.
April 25, 2021
These year's novellas look promising so far.
This one was another good one. A community of monks lives on a submarine in a postapocalyptic era and has no idea what is going on in the world above, yet has their hands on the last nuclear weapon and is readying themselves for the final blow against the godless.
The writing manages to convey the claustrophobic and deadly feeling of the environment, a feeling of menace looms on every page. Stewart creates the perfect atmosphere for this story.
This one was another good one. A community of monks lives on a submarine in a postapocalyptic era and has no idea what is going on in the world above, yet has their hands on the last nuclear weapon and is readying themselves for the final blow against the godless.
The writing manages to convey the claustrophobic and deadly feeling of the environment, a feeling of menace looms on every page. Stewart creates the perfect atmosphere for this story.
September 28, 2022
This was a pretty tight story with an excellent MC. I loved the premise, which you can read in the blurb if you don’t mind spoilers. A post-apocalyptic alternate history which takes place in a closed system (a submarine). The level of detail and the claustrophobic atmosphere created was fantastic, keeping just enough details for later reveals. I will be keeping an eye on this author from now on.
I listened to the audio book on Scribd and while I enjoyed the quality of the narrator, Mia Ellis’ voice, she had an odd delivery, like William Shatner on steroids. Listening to it at 1.5x seemed to mitigate that problem.
I listened to the audio book on Scribd and while I enjoyed the quality of the narrator, Mia Ellis’ voice, she had an odd delivery, like William Shatner on steroids. Listening to it at 1.5x seemed to mitigate that problem.
March 9, 2021
Ahoy there me mateys! I received this sci-fi novella eARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. So here be me honest musings . . .
A story about a cult in a dystopian future that takes place in a submarine? Aye! This debut fit me mood perfectly and I loved it. Though don't read the blurb if ye don't want spoilers galore.
The highlight of this book for me was the setting and atmosphere. A doomsday cult hides out in a submarine waiting for the day to release the last nuke on board. The main character, Remy, holds a special position on the sub but even that doesn't have a ton of perks. Seriously life onboard is harsh. I felt that this book captured life on an ancient, failing machine quite well.
Remy was a fun character to follow, if a bit naïve. I did enjoy the world-building of a religious order on a sub. It was fun to see the elements of Catholic monastery life mixed in with ship life. The plot was a little bit unrealistic in terms of probability at times and needs some suspension of disbelief. But I didn't ultimately care because I enjoyed it so. Plus it is a super quick read as well.
This novella reminded me a bit of sisters of the vast black and I enjoyed comparing the two takes on religious fervor of the future. I highly recommend both novellas and I will be checking out more of the author's work in the future. Arrr!
So lastly . . .
Thank you Tor.com!
A story about a cult in a dystopian future that takes place in a submarine? Aye! This debut fit me mood perfectly and I loved it. Though don't read the blurb if ye don't want spoilers galore.
The highlight of this book for me was the setting and atmosphere. A doomsday cult hides out in a submarine waiting for the day to release the last nuke on board. The main character, Remy, holds a special position on the sub but even that doesn't have a ton of perks. Seriously life onboard is harsh. I felt that this book captured life on an ancient, failing machine quite well.
Remy was a fun character to follow, if a bit naïve. I did enjoy the world-building of a religious order on a sub. It was fun to see the elements of Catholic monastery life mixed in with ship life. The plot was a little bit unrealistic in terms of probability at times and needs some suspension of disbelief. But I didn't ultimately care because I enjoyed it so. Plus it is a super quick read as well.
This novella reminded me a bit of sisters of the vast black and I enjoyed comparing the two takes on religious fervor of the future. I highly recommend both novellas and I will be checking out more of the author's work in the future. Arrr!
So lastly . . .
Thank you Tor.com!
May 19, 2021
Wow. This book.
We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep by Andrew Kelly Stewart is one of the best books I've ever read. Period.
This is the story of Remy, a member of a singing cult that lives in an aging nuclear submarine that's final mission is to fire the last remaining missile on Earth to trigger the Second Coming. Like, fuck.
The prose is beautiful. There are people who won't agree with this because it is very odd and unique, but I thought Stewart's writing was haunting and hypnotic. He uses short, choppy sentences, like waves, to push and pull my heart. I honestly re-read passages just to experience them twice.
I don't want to talk too much about the story because everyone should experience this for themselves and there is so much more going on here than the meager page count implies. But I do want to say that Remy's tale feels both familiar and totally unique.
We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep is one of those post-apocalyptic coming-of-age stories that uses a horrific situation to explore relatable emotions and themes. It explores purpose, belief, faith, expression, love, and the power of voice.
I almost don't want to admit this, but I shed a couple tears about this book. It's so rare for things to thaw my wicked, old heart, but this one did for sure.
I rated Andrew Kelly Stewart's We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep 5 out of 5 stars. Its definitely in my top 2 out of the 65 books I've read this year.
You might like this if you like: immersive stories, beautiful prose, and post-apocalyptic tales.
We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep by Andrew Kelly Stewart is one of the best books I've ever read. Period.
This is the story of Remy, a member of a singing cult that lives in an aging nuclear submarine that's final mission is to fire the last remaining missile on Earth to trigger the Second Coming. Like, fuck.
Now is my time.
Here is my purpose. The very reason I was saved eight years ago. The only reason.
I am to sing now.
In my brothers' eyes, I am holy. Special. Caplain Amita has told me this all along. Fed me this lie.
But should I not ease their worry? Lighten their souls? If we are all to die. To sink down and down and down until, at last, the depths crush us.
And so, I sing. (p.150)
The prose is beautiful. There are people who won't agree with this because it is very odd and unique, but I thought Stewart's writing was haunting and hypnotic. He uses short, choppy sentences, like waves, to push and pull my heart. I honestly re-read passages just to experience them twice.
I don't want to talk too much about the story because everyone should experience this for themselves and there is so much more going on here than the meager page count implies. But I do want to say that Remy's tale feels both familiar and totally unique.
We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep is one of those post-apocalyptic coming-of-age stories that uses a horrific situation to explore relatable emotions and themes. It explores purpose, belief, faith, expression, love, and the power of voice.
I almost don't want to admit this, but I shed a couple tears about this book. It's so rare for things to thaw my wicked, old heart, but this one did for sure.
I rated Andrew Kelly Stewart's We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep 5 out of 5 stars. Its definitely in my top 2 out of the 65 books I've read this year.
You might like this if you like: immersive stories, beautiful prose, and post-apocalyptic tales.
March 15, 2021
2 of 5 stars at The BiblioSanctum https://bibliosanctum.com/2021/03/11/...
Deep beneath the sea, the last surviving nuclear submarine Leviathan carries a crew made up of a fundamentalist order of monks who believe they hold the power to bringing about the Second Coming, to be unleashed when the time is right. Set in a post-apocalyptic dystopian future, We Shall Sing a Song into the Deep follows Remy, our protagonist who was rescued from the surface and raised to be a Cantor, singing the Hours in a choir of young boys.
But Remy has a secret. He is in fact a she, the only girl on board—a truth known only to the “Caplain” of the Leviathan. Because of this, he bestows upon Remy the missile launch key before he dies, trusting her judgment to keep it safe and make the right call when the time comes. As a new Caplain comes into power with his own ideas and unbending view of how to run the ship, Remy finds it increasingly difficult to keep all she knows concealed, especially when a close friend of hers returns from a surface raid describing the disturbing things he witnessed. Moreover, a prisoner from above is also brought on board, revealing to Remy even more truths about the outside world and further altering her frame of mind.
You know how some books, no matter how hard you try, might just not be for you? This was my experience with We Shall Sing a Song into the Deep. I even restarted it multiple times, as each time I had stalled not long after I began. At first, I blamed the various distractions in my life from pulling me away from it, but eventually, I had to face the truth. I was just not gelling with this book. Everything about this story from its concept to the atmosphere should have pulled me in, and that’s how I’d wanted it to be, but it didn’t happen. My attention would consistently wander while trying to read, and I was always struggling to immerse myself.
Part of the problem is the writing style. It’s not the easiest to get into, and this being a novella, its short length meant I never really got a chance to get used to it. That said, I want to make it clear the technical aspects of the writing were mostly great, even too crisp and rigid in some places. Some might describe the prose as lyrical, but for me it felt clunky and lacking in personality, resulting in certain action sequences and emotionally charged scenes feeling too sterile.
There’s also not much of a plot, yet somehow it still felt like there wasn’t enough story to fill the relatively small number of pages. World-building was on the sparser side as well, and most of the time I felt disconnected to Remy and had a hard time getting into her headspace to understand what made her click. The singing was an intriguing element, I’ll admit, but like so many other aspects of the world, it felt untethered from the rest of Remy’s reality. Even if it had been the author’s intent, I still think this idea should have been better conveyed, not to mention the ending left things off feeling slightly unfinished.
Credit where credit’s due though, one area I thought the book excelled was its atmosphere. It’s claustrophobic and oppressive, and given how most of the story takes place in the ocean’s depths within the guts of a nuclear submarine with a fanatical doomsday cult onboard, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
But at the end of the day, it’s a shame to come to a book and not feel adequately prepared or in the right mood to enjoy it, and although I tried my best, ultimately this might just be a case of not the right book for me. Still, there are clearly good qualities, and judging from the loads of positive reviews from other readers who loved the book, it’s probably worth checking out if the premise speaks to you.
Deep beneath the sea, the last surviving nuclear submarine Leviathan carries a crew made up of a fundamentalist order of monks who believe they hold the power to bringing about the Second Coming, to be unleashed when the time is right. Set in a post-apocalyptic dystopian future, We Shall Sing a Song into the Deep follows Remy, our protagonist who was rescued from the surface and raised to be a Cantor, singing the Hours in a choir of young boys.
But Remy has a secret. He is in fact a she, the only girl on board—a truth known only to the “Caplain” of the Leviathan. Because of this, he bestows upon Remy the missile launch key before he dies, trusting her judgment to keep it safe and make the right call when the time comes. As a new Caplain comes into power with his own ideas and unbending view of how to run the ship, Remy finds it increasingly difficult to keep all she knows concealed, especially when a close friend of hers returns from a surface raid describing the disturbing things he witnessed. Moreover, a prisoner from above is also brought on board, revealing to Remy even more truths about the outside world and further altering her frame of mind.
You know how some books, no matter how hard you try, might just not be for you? This was my experience with We Shall Sing a Song into the Deep. I even restarted it multiple times, as each time I had stalled not long after I began. At first, I blamed the various distractions in my life from pulling me away from it, but eventually, I had to face the truth. I was just not gelling with this book. Everything about this story from its concept to the atmosphere should have pulled me in, and that’s how I’d wanted it to be, but it didn’t happen. My attention would consistently wander while trying to read, and I was always struggling to immerse myself.
Part of the problem is the writing style. It’s not the easiest to get into, and this being a novella, its short length meant I never really got a chance to get used to it. That said, I want to make it clear the technical aspects of the writing were mostly great, even too crisp and rigid in some places. Some might describe the prose as lyrical, but for me it felt clunky and lacking in personality, resulting in certain action sequences and emotionally charged scenes feeling too sterile.
There’s also not much of a plot, yet somehow it still felt like there wasn’t enough story to fill the relatively small number of pages. World-building was on the sparser side as well, and most of the time I felt disconnected to Remy and had a hard time getting into her headspace to understand what made her click. The singing was an intriguing element, I’ll admit, but like so many other aspects of the world, it felt untethered from the rest of Remy’s reality. Even if it had been the author’s intent, I still think this idea should have been better conveyed, not to mention the ending left things off feeling slightly unfinished.
Credit where credit’s due though, one area I thought the book excelled was its atmosphere. It’s claustrophobic and oppressive, and given how most of the story takes place in the ocean’s depths within the guts of a nuclear submarine with a fanatical doomsday cult onboard, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
But at the end of the day, it’s a shame to come to a book and not feel adequately prepared or in the right mood to enjoy it, and although I tried my best, ultimately this might just be a case of not the right book for me. Still, there are clearly good qualities, and judging from the loads of positive reviews from other readers who loved the book, it’s probably worth checking out if the premise speaks to you.
January 7, 2022
A wonderful but depressing story. This novella is about a cult on a submarine who is determined to bring the end of the world. The people are mindlessly following a religious belief that by doing so they will be sent to heaven. Remy is a brave young singer who slowly unravels how things are not what they seem. Her drive and bravery was a dim hope in this claustropbic tale.
"It does not matter what you think, what you feel, how you act, so long as it is God’s work."
A very interesting premise, with a clear lesson on how destructive and evil blind faith can be. But while I enjoyed the story, the bleak experiences of the characters made me rush to the end. Beautiful prose that needed a bit more for it to stand out. A quick intriguing read for those who enjoy end post apocalyptic takes with unique takes.
"It does not matter what you think, what you feel, how you act, so long as it is God’s work."
A very interesting premise, with a clear lesson on how destructive and evil blind faith can be. But while I enjoyed the story, the bleak experiences of the characters made me rush to the end. Beautiful prose that needed a bit more for it to stand out. A quick intriguing read for those who enjoy end post apocalyptic takes with unique takes.
July 9, 2021
4.5 This was dark and gripping. I was really caught up in the story of this main character. It is an alternate history and the setting is a cult on a nuclear sub. Very atmospheric and immersive.
Sexual violence? No. (Unless, castration counts?) Other content warnings? Religion, cult, claustrophobia, gaslighting, some mild body horror, misogyny, torture (off page), child abuse, abduction, imprisonment, genocide.
Sexual violence? No. (Unless, castration counts?) Other content warnings? Religion, cult, claustrophobia, gaslighting, some mild body horror, misogyny, torture (off page), child abuse, abduction, imprisonment, genocide.
October 27, 2022
3.5 stars rounded up. The theme was interesting and the writing is beautiful. The ending felt too vague but this is still a page turner, one of the better ship-set SFF I've read.
March 18, 2021
The nitty-gritty: A strange, sad, claustrophobic tale, with unexpected moments of beauty and hope.
I can honestly say I’ve never read anything quite like We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep. This is a dark, atmospheric tale—verging on oppressive—that weaves together several unusual elements: a submarine called the Leviathan commanded by a religious zealot who has stolen young boys from above and forced them to join his doomsday cult; an apocalyptic future (or perhaps an alternate history, I’m not sure) where the world has been nearly destroyed by nuclear war and is populated by “Topsiders” who are a threat to the men and boys on board the submarine; a group of young castrated boys called Choristers who are literally forced to sing for their supper; and a young girl named Remy who is pretending to be a boy but is in fact the only female on board. In its deepest chambers, the Leviathan carries the last nuclear missile on Earth, which will be released as soon as God gives the word, sending all those on board to their Last Judgement. But when a prisoner from the surface is brought below, Remy’s worldview shifts. Has everything she’s been told about the world above been a lie?
This short novella is simply dripping with atmosphere, and in my opinion it’s the strongest thing about the story. Stewart’s prose brings the dark, dank bowels of the Leviathan to life, and I can assure you after reading this story, I never want to find myself inside a submarine ever! I could hear every ping and clank, every rush of steam through the pipes, even the drone of the sub’s motors. The crew are almost starving to death and survive on the scant fish they bring in from the ocean, as well as mushrooms harvested from the steamy lower tunnels (ewww). The reactor is bleeding poison into the air and slowing killing everyone. In the lowest reaches of the Leviathan, those boys who have committed one sin or another become the Forgotten and are banished to perform the most dangerous maintenance jobs next to the sub’s nuclear reactors. Add to this the fear of the ancient submarine breaking down and the threat of the Topsiders and the broken world above, and you can see how the characters are in a constant state of unease.
There is an air of sadness to the story that rarely lets up. Something terrible has happened to the world above, and the crew of the Leviathan believe they are only safe underwater, despite the hardships they go through. I felt awful for poor Remy and the other Choristers, who have been brainwashed to believe that the world above is evil and the only way out is through death. It’s that typical cult scenario that I’ve read many times before, but it never fails to break my heart.
And yet, there are some oddly beautiful moments. Remy’s friendships with the other Choristers are so sweet. As weird as it was, I also loved the idea of a choir of young boys singing Compline and Vespers every day, their lives ruled by the Hours. Remy was chosen for her beautiful singing voice, and singing not only comforts her, but she's proud of what she does. We also find out that two whales often follow the sub, singing back and forth together, and I loved how this parallels the Chorister's singing on the Leviathan. Remy is always listening for them, as if they’re a sign that things are still OK. Remy herself is surprisingly upbeat considering that she was kidnapped from above when she was only five years old and doesn’t remember anything about her previous life.
Once Remy meets the prisoner, a Topsider named Adolphine, the story takes on a certain urgency, as Adolphine convinces Remy to try to escape. I have to admit I found it very hard to give this novella a rating, but I finally settled on four stars simply because I think it has many special and unique qualities. However the overall feel of the story is very depressing and weird, so this isn’t going to be for everyone. I’m intrigued by Andrew Kelly Stewart, though, and very curious to see what he writes next.
Big thanks to the publisher for supplying a review copy.
I can honestly say I’ve never read anything quite like We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep. This is a dark, atmospheric tale—verging on oppressive—that weaves together several unusual elements: a submarine called the Leviathan commanded by a religious zealot who has stolen young boys from above and forced them to join his doomsday cult; an apocalyptic future (or perhaps an alternate history, I’m not sure) where the world has been nearly destroyed by nuclear war and is populated by “Topsiders” who are a threat to the men and boys on board the submarine; a group of young castrated boys called Choristers who are literally forced to sing for their supper; and a young girl named Remy who is pretending to be a boy but is in fact the only female on board. In its deepest chambers, the Leviathan carries the last nuclear missile on Earth, which will be released as soon as God gives the word, sending all those on board to their Last Judgement. But when a prisoner from the surface is brought below, Remy’s worldview shifts. Has everything she’s been told about the world above been a lie?
This short novella is simply dripping with atmosphere, and in my opinion it’s the strongest thing about the story. Stewart’s prose brings the dark, dank bowels of the Leviathan to life, and I can assure you after reading this story, I never want to find myself inside a submarine ever! I could hear every ping and clank, every rush of steam through the pipes, even the drone of the sub’s motors. The crew are almost starving to death and survive on the scant fish they bring in from the ocean, as well as mushrooms harvested from the steamy lower tunnels (ewww). The reactor is bleeding poison into the air and slowing killing everyone. In the lowest reaches of the Leviathan, those boys who have committed one sin or another become the Forgotten and are banished to perform the most dangerous maintenance jobs next to the sub’s nuclear reactors. Add to this the fear of the ancient submarine breaking down and the threat of the Topsiders and the broken world above, and you can see how the characters are in a constant state of unease.
There is an air of sadness to the story that rarely lets up. Something terrible has happened to the world above, and the crew of the Leviathan believe they are only safe underwater, despite the hardships they go through. I felt awful for poor Remy and the other Choristers, who have been brainwashed to believe that the world above is evil and the only way out is through death. It’s that typical cult scenario that I’ve read many times before, but it never fails to break my heart.
And yet, there are some oddly beautiful moments. Remy’s friendships with the other Choristers are so sweet. As weird as it was, I also loved the idea of a choir of young boys singing Compline and Vespers every day, their lives ruled by the Hours. Remy was chosen for her beautiful singing voice, and singing not only comforts her, but she's proud of what she does. We also find out that two whales often follow the sub, singing back and forth together, and I loved how this parallels the Chorister's singing on the Leviathan. Remy is always listening for them, as if they’re a sign that things are still OK. Remy herself is surprisingly upbeat considering that she was kidnapped from above when she was only five years old and doesn’t remember anything about her previous life.
Once Remy meets the prisoner, a Topsider named Adolphine, the story takes on a certain urgency, as Adolphine convinces Remy to try to escape. I have to admit I found it very hard to give this novella a rating, but I finally settled on four stars simply because I think it has many special and unique qualities. However the overall feel of the story is very depressing and weird, so this isn’t going to be for everyone. I’m intrigued by Andrew Kelly Stewart, though, and very curious to see what he writes next.
Big thanks to the publisher for supplying a review copy.
May 2, 2021
I thought there would be more whales.
No really. I was expecting whales. Or sea monsters. Or an incredibly epic sea battle. Or something. Anything.
This novella has a pretty familiar premise—alternate history, isolated and unaware protagonist, semi-dystopian setting. None of these elements are my favorite thing to find in a book, but the undersea setting intrigued me, and indeed proved interesting for a while until I discovered that what was going on here was...Pretty much the same thing that’s always going on in books like this.
The “singing” element of this—which was clearly intended to be powerful and poignant—falls completely flat, and while I didn’t dislike the protagonist, I didn’t feel like I got to know her well enough to truly root for her.
Some of the flaws in this are just consequence of length, which perhaps suggests that this needed to be a full length novel for the story to feel full enough. But at the same time, the big reveal is trite and anticlimactic, so perhaps it’s good that more pages weren’t spent on it.
In all, this just wasn’t engaging enough for me. And, y’know....I thought there would be more whales.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
No really. I was expecting whales. Or sea monsters. Or an incredibly epic sea battle. Or something. Anything.
This novella has a pretty familiar premise—alternate history, isolated and unaware protagonist, semi-dystopian setting. None of these elements are my favorite thing to find in a book, but the undersea setting intrigued me, and indeed proved interesting for a while until I discovered that what was going on here was...Pretty much the same thing that’s always going on in books like this.
The “singing” element of this—which was clearly intended to be powerful and poignant—falls completely flat, and while I didn’t dislike the protagonist, I didn’t feel like I got to know her well enough to truly root for her.
Some of the flaws in this are just consequence of length, which perhaps suggests that this needed to be a full length novel for the story to feel full enough. But at the same time, the big reveal is trite and anticlimactic, so perhaps it’s good that more pages weren’t spent on it.
In all, this just wasn’t engaging enough for me. And, y’know....I thought there would be more whales.
*I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.*
September 15, 2021
La primera mitad es estupenda, de 5 estrellas. La mística que crea, el ambiente, la forma de narrar, el planteamiento de la historia, todo funciona de maravilla.
El problema es la segunda parte, página a página se va desmoronando, pierde todas las virtudes. Y para rematar no supo como sacarle partido a la ucronía que plantea. Una pena.
2.5 estrellas.
El problema es la segunda parte, página a página se va desmoronando, pierde todas las virtudes. Y para rematar no supo como sacarle partido a la ucronía que plantea. Una pena.
2.5 estrellas.
May 15, 2022
Izuzetno mi je prijala ova novela. Podsetila me je na neke klasike SFa (jedan se baš nameće) i ima taj neki retro vajb a opet je moderna. Imam malu zamerku na kraj al mi to nije pokvarilo sveukupni užitak čitanja.
June 27, 2021
This was a masterpiece in the making. A beautifully written dystopian, nautical, and nuclear armageddon tale, following Remy in learning truths hidden by religious brainwashing.
I’ll start with the style. I don’t usually like purple prose or writing that is too lyrical, and while this book seemed that way especially in the beginning, i absolutely loved the writing style in this book. I got absorbed into the story and the author weaved the tale, wrote the book, in a way that captures my attention solely to character and the plot. I only had a vague reminder of the writing style being that lyrical as i read through simply because i was too focussed on the character. Remy, oh remy. I have no words to describe how much her story impacted me. It was the perfect mix of character depth, backstory and development that continued to move the story forward.
The plot I believe was one of the most unique plots ive ever read!! The beginning and ending breaks my heart, and the middle kept me at the edge of my seat. The sombre undertone and the atmospheric way it was written just makes the plot so much more worthwhile. There was a clear and distinct voice leading a carefully laid out plot that had build up, tension and pay off. The themes it explored were handled so well. Religious trauma and cult, the way it was executed felt like the necessary research was done! And an amazing story all round.
I can think of few things that could’ve been done better. Maybe this is just my preference but i’d have loved to know more about the world building. Im left with WANTING SO MUCH MORE FROM THIS WORLD!!!! and i wish id gotten it especially considering the way it ended. On top of this side characters could’ve been developed more!
All in all this was a great read, and a short one too! So definitely give it a try!! Thank you to Macmillan-Tor/ Forge for providing me with a digital ARC in exchange for an honest review via NetGalley.
Trigger warnings: castration, blood, religious cults
I’ll start with the style. I don’t usually like purple prose or writing that is too lyrical, and while this book seemed that way especially in the beginning, i absolutely loved the writing style in this book. I got absorbed into the story and the author weaved the tale, wrote the book, in a way that captures my attention solely to character and the plot. I only had a vague reminder of the writing style being that lyrical as i read through simply because i was too focussed on the character. Remy, oh remy. I have no words to describe how much her story impacted me. It was the perfect mix of character depth, backstory and development that continued to move the story forward.
The plot I believe was one of the most unique plots ive ever read!! The beginning and ending breaks my heart, and the middle kept me at the edge of my seat. The sombre undertone and the atmospheric way it was written just makes the plot so much more worthwhile. There was a clear and distinct voice leading a carefully laid out plot that had build up, tension and pay off. The themes it explored were handled so well. Religious trauma and cult, the way it was executed felt like the necessary research was done! And an amazing story all round.
I can think of few things that could’ve been done better. Maybe this is just my preference but i’d have loved to know more about the world building. Im left with WANTING SO MUCH MORE FROM THIS WORLD!!!! and i wish id gotten it especially considering the way it ended. On top of this side characters could’ve been developed more!
All in all this was a great read, and a short one too! So definitely give it a try!! Thank you to Macmillan-Tor/ Forge for providing me with a digital ARC in exchange for an honest review via NetGalley.
Trigger warnings: castration, blood, religious cults
November 30, 2021
This might not deserve 4 starts but that is how I felt right after finishing it...on further reflection its probably a 3, but whatever!
This was an intense captive story, it stressed me out but the ending was quite cathartic (let me know if that is too spoilery and I'll hide it). I thought the story built up to the climax really well and the world building was great given how short this was.
This was an intense captive story, it stressed me out but the ending was quite cathartic (let me know if that is too spoilery and I'll hide it). I thought the story built up to the climax really well and the world building was great given how short this was.
April 9, 2021
!!!! Read the whole thing in one sitting, completely engrossed. In a sentence: doomsday monastic cult on a submarine bearing the very last nuclear missile in a world that has lived through WWIII and is in fact on its way to wrapping up WWIV. I find Christianity spooky on a good day but this novella took the rituals/prayer to a fun new eschatological level. Loved the detail that the initial nuclear war started with the submarine mutiny during the Cuban Missile Crisis since that what-if scenario has haunted me since I first learned about it.
March 27, 2021
Originally published at Reading Reality
Based on some of the blurb descriptions – which call this a combination of the SF classic A Canticle for Leibowitz and the military suspense classic The Hunt for Red October, I went into this book with certain expectations – in spite of never having read Canticle.
(A Canticle for Leibowitz is so foundational to SF that even if you haven’t read it, you’ve heard of it and have at least a vague idea of what it’s above. And there are plenty of summaries available to fill in any gaps.)
So, expectations. Expectations that weren’t exactly met. Which doesn’t mean that they weren’t exceeded – because they were. We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep takes elements from those books cited, a post-nuclear-apocalyptic world and a story that is steeped in nuclear brinkmanship and set in the claustrophobic confines of a submarine, turns those expectations upside down and sends them on a deep dive into times and places that the reader – or at least this reader – was not expecting.
Because in spite of that tantalizing combination of antecedents from the blurb, this story isn’t really all that similar to either of the other books.
But the crew of that submarine, the former U.S.S. Leviathan, thinks that it is. They believe that they world has ended in a nuclear holocaust, that civilization has fallen and that the survivors outside of their ship are diseased and savage and mutated. And out to get them.
And they’re almost right. Also, totally, completely, utterly and absolutely wrong.
Escape Rating A-: Like A Canticle for Leibowitz, this is a story that combines the worship and rituals of a Catholic monastery with a post-apocalyptic world. Then it turns the rest of the classic story upside down.
Not that the apocalypse doesn’t happen in both stories, but that’s where the similarity ends. Canticle is about the preservation of knowledge, where Song is actually about its destruction. The mission in Canticle is the result of the destruction, where the mission in Song is about the cause. It also feels like Canticle is honest about its faith where Song is about the corruption of it.
Also, a bit of Lord of the Flies wouldn’t be out of line in the description of what went into the mix for this book. Because in the tiny world of the Leviathan there’s definitely more than a hint of power corrupting into repression and violence, bullies rising to the top through the success of their bullying, and thought police – to mix in yet another classic metaphor – suppressing everything that runs counter to approved thought and belief.
And there’s more than a touch of alternate history mixed in, but I’ll leave for you to discover.
While the story has a bit of a slow start – because conditions aboard the Leviathan are grim and gruesome and dark and dank. And the main character seems to be scared, defenseless and alone and it looks like things are only going to get worse but not necessarily more exciting. At least at first. (But then it’s a very short book so the slow start doesn’t take all that long to get beyond.)
And the reader does go into the story with all those assumptions. But as we follow Chorister Remy around on this ship that is so obviously on its last metaphorical and mechanical legs, the assumptions start peeling back like a rotting skin, only to reveal that the rot goes all the way through to the bone.
But those bones conceal a whole lot of truths. And once Remy starts to see those, it’s a race to see whether anything, or anyone, can be saved. Or should be.
Based on some of the blurb descriptions – which call this a combination of the SF classic A Canticle for Leibowitz and the military suspense classic The Hunt for Red October, I went into this book with certain expectations – in spite of never having read Canticle.
(A Canticle for Leibowitz is so foundational to SF that even if you haven’t read it, you’ve heard of it and have at least a vague idea of what it’s above. And there are plenty of summaries available to fill in any gaps.)
So, expectations. Expectations that weren’t exactly met. Which doesn’t mean that they weren’t exceeded – because they were. We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep takes elements from those books cited, a post-nuclear-apocalyptic world and a story that is steeped in nuclear brinkmanship and set in the claustrophobic confines of a submarine, turns those expectations upside down and sends them on a deep dive into times and places that the reader – or at least this reader – was not expecting.
Because in spite of that tantalizing combination of antecedents from the blurb, this story isn’t really all that similar to either of the other books.
But the crew of that submarine, the former U.S.S. Leviathan, thinks that it is. They believe that they world has ended in a nuclear holocaust, that civilization has fallen and that the survivors outside of their ship are diseased and savage and mutated. And out to get them.
And they’re almost right. Also, totally, completely, utterly and absolutely wrong.
Escape Rating A-: Like A Canticle for Leibowitz, this is a story that combines the worship and rituals of a Catholic monastery with a post-apocalyptic world. Then it turns the rest of the classic story upside down.
Not that the apocalypse doesn’t happen in both stories, but that’s where the similarity ends. Canticle is about the preservation of knowledge, where Song is actually about its destruction. The mission in Canticle is the result of the destruction, where the mission in Song is about the cause. It also feels like Canticle is honest about its faith where Song is about the corruption of it.
Also, a bit of Lord of the Flies wouldn’t be out of line in the description of what went into the mix for this book. Because in the tiny world of the Leviathan there’s definitely more than a hint of power corrupting into repression and violence, bullies rising to the top through the success of their bullying, and thought police – to mix in yet another classic metaphor – suppressing everything that runs counter to approved thought and belief.
And there’s more than a touch of alternate history mixed in, but I’ll leave for you to discover.
While the story has a bit of a slow start – because conditions aboard the Leviathan are grim and gruesome and dark and dank. And the main character seems to be scared, defenseless and alone and it looks like things are only going to get worse but not necessarily more exciting. At least at first. (But then it’s a very short book so the slow start doesn’t take all that long to get beyond.)
And the reader does go into the story with all those assumptions. But as we follow Chorister Remy around on this ship that is so obviously on its last metaphorical and mechanical legs, the assumptions start peeling back like a rotting skin, only to reveal that the rot goes all the way through to the bone.
But those bones conceal a whole lot of truths. And once Remy starts to see those, it’s a race to see whether anything, or anyone, can be saved. Or should be.
March 18, 2021
Check out this review and more on The Quill to Live!
If there is something we always wish there was more of, it is the role of religion within science fiction stories. Neither of us is at all religious, but religion is nigh inescapable within the human experience. For it to just disappear, or not have a meaningful place within a world that is far beyond our own feels off sometimes. So how can we pass up a story that melds a nuclear apocalypse with religion? Due to a logistical error and someone (*cough* Brandee) misreading our calendar, Alex and Brandee teamed up to review the powerful forces at play in Andrew Kelly Stewart’s debut novella, We Shall Sing a Song Into The Deep.
A lone submarine called The Leviathan traverses the ocean with an all-male crew after a nuclear fallout has ravaged the land. The inhabitants–members of a religious order– pass the time in prayer while desperately trying to keep the deteriorating sub afloat. The world is slowly fading away, at least that is what the protagonist is made to believe. A young girl hiding among the crew, Remy knows little about life outside The Leviathan. However, secrets begin to unravel as her captain falls ill and entrusts Remy with the launch key to the world’s last nuclear missile. A new leader takes the helm and begins preparations for the Second Coming, with plans to launch the missile and deliver God’s Last Judgement. The crew’s days are numbered, and a hostage taken from the surface opens Remy’s eyes to the truth – it seems her Brothers have been keeping secrets of their own. Holding the world’s future in her hands, Remy must combat her beliefs and determine her true purpose.
We Shall Sing has a lyrical beginning that pulls you deep underneath the waves. It’s downright enchanting…at first. About halfway through the story, there is a defining shift in Stewart’s writing. The second half of the book loses its hushed, reverent approach and turns its turbines into overdrive to propel the now predictable plot forward. In terms of worldbuilding, we know little about the “Topside” world that exists on the surface. However, Stewart does a splendid job bringing you into Remy’s world on The Leviathan. The daily grind of the religious order is captured alongside mechanical details about the submarine, effortlessly easing you into their small, severe world. However, as the second half becomes more of a thriller, the descriptions and atmosphere take a backseat as exposition takes the forefront.
The characters follow a similar path to the atmosphere. Remy herself is easy to follow, as she seems wary even after several years amongst the crew. But she’s also instilled with purpose, much like the rest, but is questioning in the way a child insulated from the world would be when given an undue amount of responsibility. She is a delight in the first half but seems to very quickly acclimatize to the new situation halfway through, and it’s a little jarring. The side characters are recognizable archetypes but Stewart adds intimate details that really flesh them out, even if they don’t have much to do. They make the submarine feel like an enclosed ecosystem that has learned to make do with whatever resources it has.
Alex
This is a tough one for me because I was particularly excited to read this novella. Its premise was so unique within post-apocalyptic fiction. Stewart hooked me deep, luring me with his siren song as he sang about life on the ship. It felt enclosed, filled with purpose, and sailing slowly to its horrid task. Where the book fell apart for me was the halfway point, as the prose switches to a more standard action-oriented and dialogue-heavy affair. It’s abrupt and really pulled me out of the story. My least favorite thing about post-apocalypse stories is when it comes time to talk about the actual apocalypse, I just lose interest. The disaster never feels as interesting as the flow of life after the end. Stewart, for his part, imagines an interesting one, but it’s delivered in such a matter-of-fact manner, it’s impossible to question it from a reader’s viewpoint. I felt it should feel like the story Remy has been told all her life, but instead it just immediately reeks of fact, and Remy adapts to it incredibly quickly. It changes the rest of the book so that the two halves feel very different from each other. It should have felt like a revelation and instead, it just was. Stewart was able to make it feel tense towards the conclusion with a couple twists and turns here and there, but I wasn’t as engrossed.
Brandee
The element that drew me in like the tide was Stewart’s integration of religion into the story. I was fascinated by the belief system the Brothers established and how it attached itself to the sub’s radioactive power. Religion created interesting dynamics, and I enjoyed seeing how the crew’s beliefs played out. The creative doctrine and cult-like ongoings are definitely the novella’s shining stars. The story itself is well-rounded overall, but it clearly reads like two separate pieces. The beginning was hypnotizing, but the shift quickly snaps you out of the story – eventually dampening the rest of the tale for me. I was ultimately satisfied after reading, yet wished that holy energy had permeated the story until the end.
We both agree that Stewart excelled in capturing an often ignored human experience in the aftermath of nuclear fallout. We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep was a presentable, and often engaging, story despite its balancing act. If you can marry the story’s poetic beginning with its determined end, the novella accomplishes much.
Rating: We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep – 7.0/10
If there is something we always wish there was more of, it is the role of religion within science fiction stories. Neither of us is at all religious, but religion is nigh inescapable within the human experience. For it to just disappear, or not have a meaningful place within a world that is far beyond our own feels off sometimes. So how can we pass up a story that melds a nuclear apocalypse with religion? Due to a logistical error and someone (*cough* Brandee) misreading our calendar, Alex and Brandee teamed up to review the powerful forces at play in Andrew Kelly Stewart’s debut novella, We Shall Sing a Song Into The Deep.
A lone submarine called The Leviathan traverses the ocean with an all-male crew after a nuclear fallout has ravaged the land. The inhabitants–members of a religious order– pass the time in prayer while desperately trying to keep the deteriorating sub afloat. The world is slowly fading away, at least that is what the protagonist is made to believe. A young girl hiding among the crew, Remy knows little about life outside The Leviathan. However, secrets begin to unravel as her captain falls ill and entrusts Remy with the launch key to the world’s last nuclear missile. A new leader takes the helm and begins preparations for the Second Coming, with plans to launch the missile and deliver God’s Last Judgement. The crew’s days are numbered, and a hostage taken from the surface opens Remy’s eyes to the truth – it seems her Brothers have been keeping secrets of their own. Holding the world’s future in her hands, Remy must combat her beliefs and determine her true purpose.
We Shall Sing has a lyrical beginning that pulls you deep underneath the waves. It’s downright enchanting…at first. About halfway through the story, there is a defining shift in Stewart’s writing. The second half of the book loses its hushed, reverent approach and turns its turbines into overdrive to propel the now predictable plot forward. In terms of worldbuilding, we know little about the “Topside” world that exists on the surface. However, Stewart does a splendid job bringing you into Remy’s world on The Leviathan. The daily grind of the religious order is captured alongside mechanical details about the submarine, effortlessly easing you into their small, severe world. However, as the second half becomes more of a thriller, the descriptions and atmosphere take a backseat as exposition takes the forefront.
The characters follow a similar path to the atmosphere. Remy herself is easy to follow, as she seems wary even after several years amongst the crew. But she’s also instilled with purpose, much like the rest, but is questioning in the way a child insulated from the world would be when given an undue amount of responsibility. She is a delight in the first half but seems to very quickly acclimatize to the new situation halfway through, and it’s a little jarring. The side characters are recognizable archetypes but Stewart adds intimate details that really flesh them out, even if they don’t have much to do. They make the submarine feel like an enclosed ecosystem that has learned to make do with whatever resources it has.
Alex
This is a tough one for me because I was particularly excited to read this novella. Its premise was so unique within post-apocalyptic fiction. Stewart hooked me deep, luring me with his siren song as he sang about life on the ship. It felt enclosed, filled with purpose, and sailing slowly to its horrid task. Where the book fell apart for me was the halfway point, as the prose switches to a more standard action-oriented and dialogue-heavy affair. It’s abrupt and really pulled me out of the story. My least favorite thing about post-apocalypse stories is when it comes time to talk about the actual apocalypse, I just lose interest. The disaster never feels as interesting as the flow of life after the end. Stewart, for his part, imagines an interesting one, but it’s delivered in such a matter-of-fact manner, it’s impossible to question it from a reader’s viewpoint. I felt it should feel like the story Remy has been told all her life, but instead it just immediately reeks of fact, and Remy adapts to it incredibly quickly. It changes the rest of the book so that the two halves feel very different from each other. It should have felt like a revelation and instead, it just was. Stewart was able to make it feel tense towards the conclusion with a couple twists and turns here and there, but I wasn’t as engrossed.
Brandee
The element that drew me in like the tide was Stewart’s integration of religion into the story. I was fascinated by the belief system the Brothers established and how it attached itself to the sub’s radioactive power. Religion created interesting dynamics, and I enjoyed seeing how the crew’s beliefs played out. The creative doctrine and cult-like ongoings are definitely the novella’s shining stars. The story itself is well-rounded overall, but it clearly reads like two separate pieces. The beginning was hypnotizing, but the shift quickly snaps you out of the story – eventually dampening the rest of the tale for me. I was ultimately satisfied after reading, yet wished that holy energy had permeated the story until the end.
We both agree that Stewart excelled in capturing an often ignored human experience in the aftermath of nuclear fallout. We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep was a presentable, and often engaging, story despite its balancing act. If you can marry the story’s poetic beginning with its determined end, the novella accomplishes much.
Rating: We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep – 7.0/10
March 31, 2022
This is an alternative history novel in which a fanatical cult takes over a submarine with nuclear missiles, threatening the world. I like stories that show how a worldview can be warped and how different worldviews clash and create conflict. In some ways, the main character's arc is very predictable, but there are a few surprises and twists along the way.
April 22, 2021
A grim thriller and a moving study in searching for hope in the dark claustrophobia of hopelessness.
March 17, 2021
Read this review and other Science Fiction/Fantasy book reviews at The Quill to Live
If there is something we always wish there was more of, it is the role of religion within science fiction stories. Neither of us is at all religious, but religion is nigh inescapable within the human experience. For it to just disappear, or not have a meaningful place within a world that is far beyond our own feels off sometimes. So how can we pass up a story that melds a nuclear apocalypse with religion? Due to a logistical error and someone (*cough* Brandee) misreading our calendar, Alex and Brandee teamed up to review the powerful forces at play in Andrew Kelly Stewart’s debut novella, We Shall Sing a Song Into The Deep.
A lone submarine called The Leviathan traverses the ocean with an all-male crew after a nuclear fallout has ravaged the land. The inhabitants–members of a religious order– pass the time in prayer while desperately trying to keep the deteriorating sub afloat. The world is slowly fading away, at least that is what the protagonist is made to believe. A young girl hiding among the crew, Remy knows little about life outside The Leviathan. However, secrets begin to unravel as her captain falls ill and entrusts Remy with the launch key to the world’s last nuclear missile. A new leader takes the helm and begins preparations for the Second Coming, with plans to launch the missile and deliver God’s Last Judgement. The crew’s days are numbered, and a hostage taken from the surface opens Remy’s eyes to the truth – it seems her Brothers have been keeping secrets of their own. Holding the world’s future in her hands, Remy must combat her beliefs and determine her true purpose.
We Shall Sing has a lyrical beginning that pulls you deep underneath the waves. It’s downright enchanting…at first. About halfway through the story, there is a defining shift in Stewart’s writing. The second half of the book loses its hushed, reverent approach and turns its turbines into overdrive to propel the now predictable plot forward. In terms of worldbuilding, we know little about the “Topside” world that exists on the surface. However, Stewart does a splendid job bringing you into Remy’s world on The Leviathan. The daily grind of the religious order is captured alongside mechanical details about the submarine, effortlessly easing you into their small, severe world. However, as the second half becomes more of a thriller, the descriptions and atmosphere take a backseat as exposition takes the forefront.
The characters follow a similar path to the atmosphere. Remy herself is easy to follow, as she seems wary even after several years amongst the crew. But she’s also instilled with purpose, much like the rest, but is questioning in the way a child insulated from the world would be when given an undue amount of responsibility. She is a delight in the first half but seems to very quickly acclimatize to the new situation halfway through, and it’s a little jarring. The side characters are recognizable archetypes but Stewart adds intimate details that really flesh them out, even if they don’t have much to do. They make the submarine feel like an enclosed ecosystem that has learned to make do with whatever resources it has.
Alex
This is a tough one for me because I was particularly excited to read this novella. Its premise was so unique within post-apocalyptic fiction. Stewart hooked me deep, luring me with his siren song as he sang about life on the ship. It felt enclosed, filled with purpose, and sailing slowly to its horrid task. Where the book fell apart for me was the halfway point, as the prose switches to a more standard action-oriented and dialogue-heavy affair. It’s abrupt and really pulled me out of the story. My least favorite thing about post-apocalypse stories is when it comes time to talk about the actual apocalypse, I just lose interest. The disaster never feels as interesting as the flow of life after the end. Stewart, for his part, imagines an interesting one, but it’s delivered in such a matter-of-fact manner, it’s impossible to question it from a reader’s viewpoint. I felt it should feel like the story Remy has been told all her life, but instead it just immediately reeks of fact, and Remy adapts to it incredibly quickly. It changes the rest of the book so that the two halves feel very different from each other. It should have felt like a revelation and instead, it just was. Stewart was able to make it feel tense towards the conclusion with a couple twists and turns here and there, but I wasn’t as engrossed.
Brandee
The element that drew me in like the tide was Stewart’s integration of religion into the story. I was fascinated by the belief system the Brothers established and how it attached itself to the sub’s radioactive power. Religion created interesting dynamics, and I enjoyed seeing how the crew’s beliefs played out. The creative doctrine and cult-like ongoings are definitely the novella’s shining stars. The story itself is well-rounded overall, but it clearly reads like two separate pieces. The beginning was hypnotizing, but the shift quickly snaps you out of the story – eventually dampening the rest of the tale for me. I was ultimately satisfied after reading, yet wished that holy energy had permeated the story until the end.
We both agree that Stewart excelled in capturing an often ignored human experience in the aftermath of nuclear fallout. We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep was a presentable, and often engaging, story despite its balancing act. If you can marry the story’s poetic beginning with its determined end, the novella accomplishes much.
Rating: We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep – 7.0/10
-Alex and Brandee
If there is something we always wish there was more of, it is the role of religion within science fiction stories. Neither of us is at all religious, but religion is nigh inescapable within the human experience. For it to just disappear, or not have a meaningful place within a world that is far beyond our own feels off sometimes. So how can we pass up a story that melds a nuclear apocalypse with religion? Due to a logistical error and someone (*cough* Brandee) misreading our calendar, Alex and Brandee teamed up to review the powerful forces at play in Andrew Kelly Stewart’s debut novella, We Shall Sing a Song Into The Deep.
A lone submarine called The Leviathan traverses the ocean with an all-male crew after a nuclear fallout has ravaged the land. The inhabitants–members of a religious order– pass the time in prayer while desperately trying to keep the deteriorating sub afloat. The world is slowly fading away, at least that is what the protagonist is made to believe. A young girl hiding among the crew, Remy knows little about life outside The Leviathan. However, secrets begin to unravel as her captain falls ill and entrusts Remy with the launch key to the world’s last nuclear missile. A new leader takes the helm and begins preparations for the Second Coming, with plans to launch the missile and deliver God’s Last Judgement. The crew’s days are numbered, and a hostage taken from the surface opens Remy’s eyes to the truth – it seems her Brothers have been keeping secrets of their own. Holding the world’s future in her hands, Remy must combat her beliefs and determine her true purpose.
We Shall Sing has a lyrical beginning that pulls you deep underneath the waves. It’s downright enchanting…at first. About halfway through the story, there is a defining shift in Stewart’s writing. The second half of the book loses its hushed, reverent approach and turns its turbines into overdrive to propel the now predictable plot forward. In terms of worldbuilding, we know little about the “Topside” world that exists on the surface. However, Stewart does a splendid job bringing you into Remy’s world on The Leviathan. The daily grind of the religious order is captured alongside mechanical details about the submarine, effortlessly easing you into their small, severe world. However, as the second half becomes more of a thriller, the descriptions and atmosphere take a backseat as exposition takes the forefront.
The characters follow a similar path to the atmosphere. Remy herself is easy to follow, as she seems wary even after several years amongst the crew. But she’s also instilled with purpose, much like the rest, but is questioning in the way a child insulated from the world would be when given an undue amount of responsibility. She is a delight in the first half but seems to very quickly acclimatize to the new situation halfway through, and it’s a little jarring. The side characters are recognizable archetypes but Stewart adds intimate details that really flesh them out, even if they don’t have much to do. They make the submarine feel like an enclosed ecosystem that has learned to make do with whatever resources it has.
Alex
This is a tough one for me because I was particularly excited to read this novella. Its premise was so unique within post-apocalyptic fiction. Stewart hooked me deep, luring me with his siren song as he sang about life on the ship. It felt enclosed, filled with purpose, and sailing slowly to its horrid task. Where the book fell apart for me was the halfway point, as the prose switches to a more standard action-oriented and dialogue-heavy affair. It’s abrupt and really pulled me out of the story. My least favorite thing about post-apocalypse stories is when it comes time to talk about the actual apocalypse, I just lose interest. The disaster never feels as interesting as the flow of life after the end. Stewart, for his part, imagines an interesting one, but it’s delivered in such a matter-of-fact manner, it’s impossible to question it from a reader’s viewpoint. I felt it should feel like the story Remy has been told all her life, but instead it just immediately reeks of fact, and Remy adapts to it incredibly quickly. It changes the rest of the book so that the two halves feel very different from each other. It should have felt like a revelation and instead, it just was. Stewart was able to make it feel tense towards the conclusion with a couple twists and turns here and there, but I wasn’t as engrossed.
Brandee
The element that drew me in like the tide was Stewart’s integration of religion into the story. I was fascinated by the belief system the Brothers established and how it attached itself to the sub’s radioactive power. Religion created interesting dynamics, and I enjoyed seeing how the crew’s beliefs played out. The creative doctrine and cult-like ongoings are definitely the novella’s shining stars. The story itself is well-rounded overall, but it clearly reads like two separate pieces. The beginning was hypnotizing, but the shift quickly snaps you out of the story – eventually dampening the rest of the tale for me. I was ultimately satisfied after reading, yet wished that holy energy had permeated the story until the end.
We both agree that Stewart excelled in capturing an often ignored human experience in the aftermath of nuclear fallout. We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep was a presentable, and often engaging, story despite its balancing act. If you can marry the story’s poetic beginning with its determined end, the novella accomplishes much.
Rating: We Shall Sing A Song Into The Deep – 7.0/10
-Alex and Brandee
January 19, 2022
The atmosphere and intrigue of this novella is top notch. From the premise to the excellent characters to the sense of always questioning whose truth is the most accurate, there is a lot of punch in these limited pages. Definitely a strong recommendation for anyone who is a fan of stories that are post-apocalyptic or explore religious fanaticism. And a worthwhile read for anyone else too.
July 2, 2022
The first audiobook in awhile that I’ve wanted to not stop listening to. Compelling characters and a really great, fleshed out setting. I’m going to keep an eye on this author for sure!
March 11, 2023
Excellent novella with gorgeous writing and a huge amount of tension.
I would have liked this to be a little longer simply to tie up a few loose ends, but the brief format worked well for the most part. I recommend this.
I would have liked this to be a little longer simply to tie up a few loose ends, but the brief format worked well for the most part. I recommend this.
March 31, 2021
This novella is a post-apocalyptic alternate history that the blurbs compare to A Canticle for Leibowitz and The Hunt for Red October. I haven't read either, although that description sounds more like something made for Hollywood. I daresay this would make a good movie, but it would definitely need a discerning, nuanced script. This story deals with faith and religion, from the viewpoint of a young person raised in an apocalyptic death cult, the vaguely Catholic, monkish Brotherhood, waiting to carry out the Last Judgment. Our protagonist, Remy, is a woman--young girl, rather; she's about thirteen or fourteen--aboard one of the last surviving nuclear submarines, the Leviathan.The Leviathan patrols the oceans twenty-three years after World War III, waiting to launch its one remaining nuclear missile. An act that the cult members are told will send them to heaven and make the sea give up the dead bodies of their comrades. (And, unfortunately, there are a lot of bodies for the sea to give up, as for the past twenty years the Leviathan has been kidnapping young boys to prop up the cult and feed into the rear section of the boat, where the nuclear reactor that powers the ship soon irradiates them.)
The most notable thing about this book is its atmosphere: it's dripping with claustrophobia and paranoia. The author has nailed the feelings and sensations of being trapped in a submarine, with the bulkheads pressing close on every side, and never seeing the sun or sky. Remy has even more to hide aboard this boat full of secrets--because no one knows she is female, with the exception of the "caplain" (the cult's term, a blending of captain and chaplain) who rescued her from the Topside, the poisoned surface world, years before. She was saved because of her beautiful singing voice, which lands her a spot with the Choristers, the young boys who sing the hymns that keep the Brotherhood on the straight and narrow.
But Remy's faith has begun to crack. Her best friend, Lazlo, was drafted for a Topsider raid, and in the process watched his fellow Brothers slaughter nearly everyone aboard the ship they boarded. He heard these people begging for their lives, saying the war was over and the surface wasn't all poisoned, and those aboard the Leviathan don't have to live the way they are living. For his doubts he is sent to the rear of the submarine, consigned to the reactor room as one of the Forgotten. Remy is deeply shaken by this, so much so she sneaks away to talk to the prisoner the caplain has brought on board ship, the woman he hopes to force to fix his last missile's broken targeting system.
This is the story of Remy's taking charge of her life and breaking the terrible shackles of the cult of the Brotherhood, and eventually leading her friends in a rebellion to escape from the submarine as it prepares to carry out the Last Judgment. I do wish the worldbuilding was fleshed out a bit more--this is a novella, of course, so we don't have room for a lot of backstory. There is a bit of necessary infodumping in the middle of the story, as the Topside prisoner explains the state of the world to Remy as best she can. (Short version: this is an alternate 1986 where the Cuban Missile Crisis led to World War III, and Australia is now the world's superpower, or what remains of the world.) The ending is also ambiguous: after Remy and six others escape from the submarine as it goes down, they are afloat on a life raft, waiting for rescue. The implication is that they will be rescued, but we just don't know.
Nevertheless, this is a well-paced story, an exploration of faith (and even at the end, Remy still seems to have faith, even though she's now free of the cult). I hope there is a sequel. Exploring what happens to these characters in the new world they have been abruptly thrust into would be fascinating.
The most notable thing about this book is its atmosphere: it's dripping with claustrophobia and paranoia. The author has nailed the feelings and sensations of being trapped in a submarine, with the bulkheads pressing close on every side, and never seeing the sun or sky. Remy has even more to hide aboard this boat full of secrets--because no one knows she is female, with the exception of the "caplain" (the cult's term, a blending of captain and chaplain) who rescued her from the Topside, the poisoned surface world, years before. She was saved because of her beautiful singing voice, which lands her a spot with the Choristers, the young boys who sing the hymns that keep the Brotherhood on the straight and narrow.
But Remy's faith has begun to crack. Her best friend, Lazlo, was drafted for a Topsider raid, and in the process watched his fellow Brothers slaughter nearly everyone aboard the ship they boarded. He heard these people begging for their lives, saying the war was over and the surface wasn't all poisoned, and those aboard the Leviathan don't have to live the way they are living. For his doubts he is sent to the rear of the submarine, consigned to the reactor room as one of the Forgotten. Remy is deeply shaken by this, so much so she sneaks away to talk to the prisoner the caplain has brought on board ship, the woman he hopes to force to fix his last missile's broken targeting system.
This is the story of Remy's taking charge of her life and breaking the terrible shackles of the cult of the Brotherhood, and eventually leading her friends in a rebellion to escape from the submarine as it prepares to carry out the Last Judgment. I do wish the worldbuilding was fleshed out a bit more--this is a novella, of course, so we don't have room for a lot of backstory. There is a bit of necessary infodumping in the middle of the story, as the Topside prisoner explains the state of the world to Remy as best she can. (Short version: this is an alternate 1986 where the Cuban Missile Crisis led to World War III, and Australia is now the world's superpower, or what remains of the world.) The ending is also ambiguous: after Remy and six others escape from the submarine as it goes down, they are afloat on a life raft, waiting for rescue. The implication is that they will be rescued, but we just don't know.
Nevertheless, this is a well-paced story, an exploration of faith (and even at the end, Remy still seems to have faith, even though she's now free of the cult). I hope there is a sequel. Exploring what happens to these characters in the new world they have been abruptly thrust into would be fascinating.
January 11, 2021
In "We Shall Sing a Song into the Deep" by Andrew Kelly Stewart, a group of monks prowl the devastated seas of a post-nuclear Earth in an aging submarine. On board is a single nuclear missile, and the monks' mission is to wait for God to declare the Last Judgment.
Remy, head Chorister on the submarine, Leviathan, has a secret. She's the only girl aboard the all-male vessel. Her golden voice saved her life when she was captured by the crew, but she's at the age where the other choristers undergo castration, so her secret won't be hers for much longer.
The Leviathan's captain dies, and the new "Caplain" is a much stricter master. He wants the Last Judgment to be called, so he can rain down nuclear fire on "Babylon." There's a problem with the controls, though, leading the crew to conduct a raid and capture a "Topsider" technician to repair the equipment.
The technician is a woman, and Remy visits her nightly to hear stories of the world above. They formulate a plan to keep the missile from being launched. Remy must choose between the world above and the world below, and whom to save or cast away.
The story is somehow spare and lush at the same time. A lot is packed into this short book, which has a taste of "A Canticle for Leibowitz" and "The Hunt for Red October," but is also unique. Some of the characters are not as well-drawn as others, but it's Remy's tale, and she is engaging.
The prose is descriptive, and I felt I could hear the groan of the metal as the submarine was under pressure, and the whale songs that contrasted with the Latin mass the Choristers sang.
Highly recommended.
I received an advanced copy from Macmillan-Tor/Forge and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Remy, head Chorister on the submarine, Leviathan, has a secret. She's the only girl aboard the all-male vessel. Her golden voice saved her life when she was captured by the crew, but she's at the age where the other choristers undergo castration, so her secret won't be hers for much longer.
The Leviathan's captain dies, and the new "Caplain" is a much stricter master. He wants the Last Judgment to be called, so he can rain down nuclear fire on "Babylon." There's a problem with the controls, though, leading the crew to conduct a raid and capture a "Topsider" technician to repair the equipment.
The technician is a woman, and Remy visits her nightly to hear stories of the world above. They formulate a plan to keep the missile from being launched. Remy must choose between the world above and the world below, and whom to save or cast away.
The story is somehow spare and lush at the same time. A lot is packed into this short book, which has a taste of "A Canticle for Leibowitz" and "The Hunt for Red October," but is also unique. Some of the characters are not as well-drawn as others, but it's Remy's tale, and she is engaging.
The prose is descriptive, and I felt I could hear the groan of the metal as the submarine was under pressure, and the whale songs that contrasted with the Latin mass the Choristers sang.
Highly recommended.
I received an advanced copy from Macmillan-Tor/Forge and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
December 12, 2022
On the plus side, the style of writing is fine. It flows well and it’s clear what’s happening. The novel has a logical structure and the characters are fairly well drawn. I did like the play on words involving ‘captain’ and ‘chaplain.’ The novel explores some interesting themes of religion, gender, power, and isolation.
On the minus side, the novel’s premise is ridiculous. I don’t want to spoil things, so I’ll just discuss what a reader will know from the first few pages. There’s a strict, religious society—and it’s aboard a nuclear submarine. And they have a nuclear missile. And they have an all-male crew, except for the protagonist, who is (secretly) female. And a choir makes up a good chunk of the crew.
For the sake of a good story, I’ll swallow a premise like that and read on. So I did. However, the author should have consulted a submariner or former submariner. (I’m the latter.) In fairness, the author made a reasonable attempt to get technical details right, perhaps enough to get by with the non-submarining public.
Submariners don’t call them ‘walls,’ we call them bulkheads. Aboard a submarine, we speak of charts, not maps. In my experience, submarines contain no hand-operated pumps. We don’t measure the submarine’s depth in fathoms. Although I didn’t serve on a ballistic missile submarine, I suspect two keys are required to launch, not just one. Submarines contain both hatches and doors, but they’re not the same thing—a door is vertical and you move through it horizontally, and a hatch is the other way around.
Although most readers may enjoy this novel, I don’t recommend it for readers with a naval background.
On the minus side, the novel’s premise is ridiculous. I don’t want to spoil things, so I’ll just discuss what a reader will know from the first few pages. There’s a strict, religious society—and it’s aboard a nuclear submarine. And they have a nuclear missile. And they have an all-male crew, except for the protagonist, who is (secretly) female. And a choir makes up a good chunk of the crew.
For the sake of a good story, I’ll swallow a premise like that and read on. So I did. However, the author should have consulted a submariner or former submariner. (I’m the latter.) In fairness, the author made a reasonable attempt to get technical details right, perhaps enough to get by with the non-submarining public.
Submariners don’t call them ‘walls,’ we call them bulkheads. Aboard a submarine, we speak of charts, not maps. In my experience, submarines contain no hand-operated pumps. We don’t measure the submarine’s depth in fathoms. Although I didn’t serve on a ballistic missile submarine, I suspect two keys are required to launch, not just one. Submarines contain both hatches and doors, but they’re not the same thing—a door is vertical and you move through it horizontally, and a hatch is the other way around.
Although most readers may enjoy this novel, I don’t recommend it for readers with a naval background.
March 21, 2021
There are not enough stars for this book! It's a compelling story of people finding hope against terrible odds. The world-building and character development are amazing. I literally could not put it down, and the complex narrative and themes sat with me for days. I cannot recommend this book highly enough for anyone who is even remotely interested in sci-fi, adventure, or dystopian literature. And I can't wait to see what Andrew Kelly Stewart writes next!
July 31, 2021
Wow. So much in such a short novella: alternative history, post-apocalyptic dystopia, religious cult, and so much more. The descriptions truly evoked the claustrophobic experience of being in the submarine, and the characters felt real and three-dimensional.
Just read it. Really.
Just read it. Really.
June 22, 2021
This was the only piece that really grabbed my attention in TOR's debut sampler (post-apocalyptic is my wheelhouse), and when I checked the library, I was delighted to see that it was available. I very much like the tension in it. Remy is carrying multiple secrets in an incredibly insular world and is walking a line between duty and the sweet whiff of freedom. The world building was not 100% original, but was good, and my only real complaint is that I wish the novella had been the first section of a longer book.
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