In the Cities of Coin and Spice

The Orphan's Tales #2

by Catherynne M. Valente

Catherynne M. Valente enchanted readers with her spellbinding In the Night Garden. Now she continues to weave her storytelling magic in a new book of Orphan's Tales-an epicof the fantastic and the exotic, the monstrous and mysterious, that will transport you far away from the everyday.... Her name and origins are unknown, but the endless tales inked upon this orphan's eyelids weave a spell over all who listen to her read her secret history. And who can resist the stories she tells? From the Lake of the Dead and the City of Marrow to the artists who remain behind in a ghost city of spice, here are stories of hedgehog warriors and winged skeletons, loyal leopards and sparrow calligraphers. Nothing is too fantastic, anything can happen, but you'll never guess what comes next in these intimately linked adventures of firebirds and djinn, singing manticores, mutilated unicorns, and women made entirely of glass and gears. Graced with the magical illustrations of Michael Kaluta, In the Cities of Coins and Spice is a book of dreams and wonders unlike any you've ever encountered. Open it anywhere and you will fall under its spell. For here the story never ends and the magic is only beginning....

Genres: Fantasy, Fiction, Fairy Tales, Short Stories, Magic, Mythology, Science Fiction Fantasy

516 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2007

About the author

Catherynne M. Valente was born on Cinco de Mayo, 1979 in Seattle, WA, but grew up in in the wheatgrass paradise of Northern California. She graduated from high school at age 15, going on to UC San Diego and Edinburgh University, receiving her B.A. in Classics with an emphasis in Ancient Greek Linguistics. She then drifted away from her M.A. program and into a long residence in the concrete and camphor wilds of Japan.

She currently lives in Maine with her partner, two dogs, and three cats, having drifted back to America and the mythic frontier of the Midwest.

Reviews

[Charlotte Kersten]

"Everything good in the world has feathers and wings and claws.”

So What's It About?

Well, see, there's this feral girl with stories marking her eyes and a lonely prince and they're in a garden and all her stories intersect and build off each other in a mysterious, magical way. That's about all you need to know!

What I Thought

The first book in this series, In the Night Garden, was one of my favorite reads last year. I had never read anything quite like it before and it was entrancing through and through. I still loved In the Cities of Coin and Spice but I'm sad to say a bit of the luster was lost this time around. 

I think my main problem is that I started to get a little tired of the arabesque stories-within-stories structure after a while - at a certain point I realized that it was becoming hard to care about the one-shot stories that only lasted a few pages and were never returned to later on. This time around the stories as a whole felt a little bit more fragmented and unsatisfactory; whether that's because I simply got tired of the style or there was an actual, discernable difference between this book and the first I can't say for certain. Another thing I found slightly frustrating was that so many of the narrating voices sounded so similar even though the narrators were wildly different kinds of creatures with wildly different kinds of experiences.

My least favorite part of the story was the section that focused on a group of cannibal travelers/performers who are referred to as g*psies. The whole thing struck me as almost bizarrely poor in taste. The use of the slur g*psies is one matter to be considered in and of itself and if you're interested in reading about the history of the word and the weight it carries I recommend this article. Beyond that, I think it could be argued that Valente's depiction here contributes to the destructive way that Romani people are often stereotyped in media: wild, predatory, dirty and immoral yet somehow romanticized at the same time. It's a thankfully short section of the book but it definitely bothered me quite a bit. 

In contrast, my favorite part of the story was the section narrated by Sleeve the dressmaker spider. In comparison with a lot of the stories where the narrative voices blended together, Sleeve's voice was delightfully distinct and I loved reading about her courage and ingenuity. I also adored the ending of the story - for all her loneliness I was so glad that Sorrow ended up having so many people who loved her. It was wonderful to see how the stories intersected and caught up to the present to give her a beautiful happy ending. 

Despite my complaints it's a strange, lush collection of excellent fairy tales and it remains unlike anything I've ever read before. These stories feel like classic myths and bold subversions at the same time and it's a wonderful feat.

There's a lot to be said about the way that fairy tales rely on violence against women, and I thought the first book did a great job of giving the subjects of that violence agency, personality and means of fighting back against what was done to them. They became monsters and pirates and witches. 

Here we have a wife turned tiny and imprisoned by her husband, a wife eaten by her husband (nuanced symbolism there with these two, no?), a wife killed by her  husband, a girl imprisoned by a hedgehog who's infatuated with her and the rape of the stars - about the same amount of violence as the first book, I'd say. But as far as my memory serves there is not quite the same amount of gritty survival, resistance, subversion and embracing-of-monstrous-power-and-deviance that I loved in the first story. 

I did love the bonds that developed between the women of the harem in one of the stories and the fact that Dinarzad was given some inner complexity this time around - fears about being sold off in her marriage and a secret love of the stories that she overheard. 

[Grace · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Writing about music is like dancing about architecture," or so the old quote says. I can't help but remember this saying as I attempt to write down some of my fragmented, all too feeble thoughts regarding Catherynne Valente's masterwork, The Orphan Tales: In the Night Garden and In the Cities of Coin and Spice. To start out with a bang, I have to tell you what my reaction was upon completing the last page of the second book. It was 1am, and I set the book down, after having to re-read one of the pivotal revelations on the last page and say "ohhh...I SEE." I turned the light out, lay down in bed, and started crying. And I don't just mean a few pinpricks from my eyes like I've had happen for a handful of tales over the years. I mean nose-sniffling, shoulder-shaking crying. I cried and I shook my head as I cried, laughing at myself for reacting more strongly than I had to any book I'd ever read. I cried because the books were done. I cried because the ending was so incredible. I cried because I was in awe of Catherynne Valente, only one year older than me, and having given something to the world of myth and story and imagination that I feel should go into the same column (and high in that column) as the greatest contributors of all time. How can one person have so much inside? And be able to get it all out onto the page?

This book is not an easy read. Let me tell you that straight-out as well. Many people have written reviews saying "I couldn't keep track of the stories" or "the format was too distracting, with the nested stories." I also found this to be true the first time I read the first book. I got to a little over page 100, and returned it to the library. But Valente's name kept cropping up...first on Endicott Studios, featuring an incredible short story I loved, then on Jen Parrish's website, as she created a gorgeous necklace in the shape of a boat with red sails for an auction. I sought out more of Cat's short stories, and I was blown away by every single one. Finally I decided to try the book again, settling down with it at the start of winter, when the fire crackled in my fireplace, and the stories folded around me like blankets against the snow. I approached it with more patience, and gave it time, rather than trying to rush through it. And I discovered that this book was not only good...it was the most imaginative, fully-formed, genius, and moving work of literature I'll most likely ever read.

If I seem to be overly prosaic and prone to hyperbole about this book, (I should say books, since it's a duology, but the two volumes fit together like one work) it's just a symptom of how much it has crept into every fiber of me. I now want to write extra stories about descendants of her tales. I want to create art showing the pivotal moments in the stories that I adored.

The message of the books is both simple and incredibly complex. The tales themselves are both an intricate symphony, and a simple thread that weaves around to end at a simple resolution. Valente is the Weaver of these tales, closing her eyes, grabbing all that is around her, and remaking it into beautiful gowns, girls, and cities, knowing all the while where the tales will end, whether that end is happy or sad.

[Bradley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This continuation of the Orphan's tales very much continues in the same vein as the first. Stories within stories, sheer, unbridled imagination... a modern 1001 Nights with a very sophisticated and original sequencing of mythologies, from nagas, selkies, winged skeletons, and ever-present hunger, of leopards, broken unicorns, women pared away to replacement parts, and most of all...

Of sorrow.

This novel takes a more liberal superstructure approach over the first, continuing the tales of the Orphan in such a way that even the stories have stories and those have deeper stories still, and the recursion slowly rises back up until we can breathe in the ink under the eyelids once more, gasping, shuddering in relief.


There is nothing more that I can say that the book itself can't say better. It is lush, gorgeous, lyrical, and it rewards careful readers. Careful re-reading. Valente is something of a master storyteller and these two works are dense and epic. Amazing.

[Tatiana · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found this second book of "The Orphan's Tales" less engaging than the first one. This is probably why I so easily put it down after reaching the middle and didn't pick it up until weeks later.

"In the Cities of Coin and Spice" was much darker and less enchanting than "In the Night Garden" and its characters less compelling. I thought the first half ("The Book of the Storm") was extremely disturbing for a book of fairy tales and the second ("The Book of the Scald") was a little too scattered, as if Valente had run out of inspiration and energy. I also felt that all the story threads should have been pulled together better, to tie in with the main orphan's tale.

In spite of my complaints, "In the Cities of Coin and Spice" still was a great book, which I enjoyed a lot for its originality and unconventionality. I still don't think that it holds wide appeal, not everyone will be into this kind of writing. However, if you are in a mood for some original and sometimes downright bizarre fairy tales which break all fairy tale stereotypes and celebrate women, Valente's both books of "The Orphan's Tales" are for you.

[Jennifer · Rating 5 out of 5]

All the stars! I am so impressed by the scope, creativity, and storytelling of this diptych. I'm a little surprised Catherynne Valente went on to write more books, because if I had just poured out as many stories - more than most people tell in a lifetime - as she has within In the Night Garden and In the Cities of Coin and Spice, I might well be out of stories for the rest of my life.

There's no good reason why this story has been split up into two books, as they are very much the same work. I read them back to back, and am glad I did, as there are many characters to keep track of and many show up again - sometimes as brief allusions that shed more light on their origins or fate, sometimes as key players. The connections between the different stories and with the framing narration thicken and multiply until they are finally the same story.

As with the first book, the narrative format is of stories within stories, often so many storytellers deep that a genealogical tree of stories would be helpful in keeping everything straight. (I am not that ambitious.) Valente alludes to many well-known tales - there are stories with elements of The Princess and the Frog, The Red Shoes, Beauty and the Beast - yet transforms them so that they are merely launching points of very different, often subversive, often slyly feminist stories of wonder, horror, and unpredictability. I defy you to come up with another Beauty and the Beast story in which the unlucky merchant dies on his way home, his body is taken over by a necromancer, and he is ultimately discovered, killed, and his bones eaten by his suspicious and resourceful daughters. These stories are so richly allusive and full of potential for analysis that they seem better categorized as literary fiction than fantasy, as they have far more in common with Borges and Calvino than George R. R. Martin.

The writing is as gorgeous, evocative, and strange as ever:

At the entrance to the maze was a pair of shoes. They were twisted out of the roots of cassia trees, curling wildly at the toe and the heel, the red roots snarling and looping like an embroidered hem. The scent of them was rich and dark and sweet: expensive cinnamon floating in a cup of black tea.

Neil Gaiman wrote something that has stayed with me for twenty years, about how this is "the real problem with stories—if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death." Valente defeats even that: her stories extend into death and before birth, and show that the framing of any given story is always somewhat arbitrary - there's always more than is told, more than can be told.

I suspect that some of the answers provided to the why of the framing story don't stand up under scrutiny, but I'm not sure I care. These books are remarkable, and this is the closest I've come to gushing about anything in a very long time.

[T.D. Whittle · Rating 5 out of 5]

This one is a treasure to keep and re-read, which is likewise true of the first book in the set, In the Night Garden. Valente's reworking of tales taken from just about everywhere―She is deeply knowledgeable about myths, fairy tales, and folklore!―is fresh, lively, vivid, and completely her own. It is typical of my reading of Valente (and I've read a lot, but not yet all, of her work) that I never think, "Oh, I've seen this before," because I haven't. She began as a poet and the poet shines through in all of her prose, too, yet she also knows how to move a narrative forward so that the reader follows her thread as devotedly as Theseus followed Ariadne's. Valente is masterful at creating lush settings and characters that make you love and fear them, with abiding reverence. They have staying power, too, rather than fading a week after reading.

I do think of Angela Carter when I read Valente, but not because of derivation, more because of a similar spark of genius, dark wildness, and sensuality that shimmers. Like Carter, Valente takes tales we know from myth and legend and folk lore, and upgrades them to their 2.0 version. They both rewrite so that girls and women come forth as the bold and powerful beings we know they can be, rather than simply as manipulated victims or background support to males. This is significant for one reason: My usual response to such writing is that I loathe it because it smacks of superficial wish-fulfillment.

Many of the writers who create modern re-tellings of archetypal stories seem not to understand what an archetype is, or what function it serves in the human psyche. If you do not understand this, you are very unlikely to reproduce a better version for modern readers. Instead, what you will get are pretend females who are no more than a superficial wish-fulfillment fantasy, lacking depth and meaning. These types of books are everywhere and they run roughshod over our actual natures, in favour of producing some sort of superheroines who triumph over every possible challenge, and who have no basis at all in reality. If fiction is a lie that reveals truth, then these books are lies that reveal nothing but more lies. They are emotionally dishonest. Girls and women may take the starring role in such books, but they are not really females at all; they are like males, but with breasts. Sometimes, they are not even that, but seem to lack any real connection with humanity at all.

Valente, like Carter, is too smart for that cheap trick. Their heroines are fantastic, sometimes magic, and not necessarily human; nevertheless, they resonate at the level of our deepest selves, stirring the murky pools of our psyches. These heroines are courageous and loyal. They are often kind and compassionate, yet can also be cruel and callous when something stands between themselves and what they need to do. They make great sacrifices to achieve particular ends, which are not always fulfilled. They love fiercely and deeply and some live short and brutal lives. They all suffer enormously. Valente shows us that even women made of starlight and grass yearn for their mothers; even fire gods get lonely; even girls who walk amongst the dead long for friendship. These are rich and wonderful characters and, because they are the true to life―emotionally and psychologically, if not actually―they do not always triumph, in love or in their lives. Yet their lives are not lived in vain but with resolve and reverence. They have purpose and meaning.

As it turns out, I have come to prefer Valente's version of The Arabian Nights tales, on which this set of stories is modeled, to the original. I do love the original stories but found I was able to predict their outcome easily, the more I read them. Also, frankly, the rending of garments and pulling of hair gets tedious after the first dozen stories! I cannot guess Carter's mind, nor can I predict Valente, and that keeps me reading.

[Megan Baxter · Rating 4 out of 5]

The stories continue in this second volume of The Orphan's Tales, and I am so ambivalent about what I'm about to say. I love Catherynne Valente as a writer, I do so very much, and yet. There is beautiful prose in this book, intoxicating stories, brilliant twists, interesting characters. And yet. The stories flow and interweave, and usually I love this kind of meandering and intertwining. And yet.

Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.

In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook

[Algernon (Darth Anyan) · Rating 5 out of 5]

The second part of The Orphan Tales is every bit as enchanting as the first one. Similar to In the Night Garden, this book is comprised of two major story arcs, one about a special brand of coins and a journey to the desolate shores of the lake where lost souls go; the other in and around Ajanahb - the city of spices. Once again, the thread of the story jumps from character to character, each one adding a bit more to the overall canvas. Along the way, characters from the previous stories put in an appearance and fill in the gaps or add another level of complexity to an already intricate construction. Honestly, I got lost more than once, and I struggled from time to time to remember the particular story of a recurring character. I would recommend reading this second book right after the first one, and even in this case try to pay attention to details, no matter how overwhelming they may seem. Now that I have the final image revealed, I would compare this narrative tapestry to an oriental mandala or one of those huge celtic knotworks where you cannot discern clearly the beginning or the end of the thread, but the finished product is symmetrical, whole and hypnotizing.

Call me Lantern - and don't laugh!
I have already noted in the first volume how Catherynne Valente has mixed oral storytelling traditions and ancient myths with modern sensibilities, irony and humor. If in first story we found out the equation governing the slaying of monsters in order to rescue maidens from towers, this time we will get an explanation of why dragons are kidnapping nubile girls ...

Still, the major tone of the novel remains one of melancholy, of loss and loneliness. It is after all, the tale of the orphan souls, be they human, animal or chimaera, most of the characters share painful childhood experiences and are on a journey of discovery for their place in an often hostile world. I will not spoil the ending, other than to say it is spectacular in a Venetian carnival style - colourful and poignant and very satisfying as far as I'm concerned:

Are you lost? he wispered.
Yes, I said fervently.
Poor lost things are a specialty of mine ...

Follow the thread of blank ink unspooling from the lids of the girl hiding in a night garden and you will be found.

[YouKneeK · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the Cities of Coin and Spice is the sequel to In the Night Garden by Catherynne Valente. The books share the same structure, with stories nested inside of stories, up to seven levels including the framing story. As for that framing story, it continues in this book and finally gets a satisfying conclusion.

I enjoyed this one as much as the first one. The format has lost its newness factor, though; at this point it feels perfectly normal. It also didn’t seem quite as complexly structured as the first book, but maybe that’s just because I was so used to it. It seemed like the stories were more concentrated in a couple layers. As before, the stories were interconnected. There were also a lot of ties back to the first book, some obvious and some more subtle.

The stories themselves were darker than in the first book, especially in the first half, and I think I liked them a bit better. I did still occasionally lose interest in some parts, but not too much. The author wove everything together from both books in a satisfying and intricate way. I suspect a reader would enjoy the series as much if not more on a re-read, because the conclusion sheds new light on everything that happened before.

This was my first time reading anything by Valente, and I was impressed. I’ll likely try more of her work in the future.

[MJ · Rating 5 out of 5]

This review encompasses my feelings about both books, as they really belong together.

I have read so many hundreds of fairy tales in my life, but these are the ones that have stuck with me the most. Catherynne Valente tells dozens of stories in dozens of voices that weave in and out of one another and somehow create not just a bigger story but a whole universe.

I haven't felt so much genuine surprise and interest and awe and horror and love since I got my first copy of Grimm's. I have so much affection for every story and every character; hidden within the traditional fairy tale patter are people and places and perspectives that change with the storyteller.

At its heart, The Orphan's Tales is about the fact that everyone has equal capacity for agency and everyone's story is important. And in order to really understand the world, you have to listen to all of them. (A message that is perhaps especially timely now.)

[Arie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This duo of books (but really just one incredible labyrinthine tale) are without doubt one of the highlights of my entire reading life.

Clearly writing a review for such a story is near impossible; I will attempt it eventually - but not yet.

[Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's hard to review this book separately from In the Night Garden, because ultimately they're one book in two volumes. And so star ratings are somewhat arbitrary.

Like In the Night Garden, In the Cities of Coin and Spice is a lovely book made up of nested, interconnected stories. The stories are bizarre and fascinating and peopled by interesting, unusual characters. Like the first book, this one contains two "big" stories within the main frame story, and with dozens of nested stories within each of those. I admit to finding the first of the "big" stories here a little disturbing, as it was darker than anything we saw in In the Night Garden, but it is nevertheless very well-told. I also didn't see the pieces coming together at the end of each "big" story in the same exciting way they did in the first book--but here, we see how all the stories come together to form part of the story of the orphan girl, which works very well. Like the first book, In the Cities of Coin and Spice is exceptionally well-written and has lots of strong, complex female characters who have meaningful relationships with each other. Also like the first book, this one has deckle edge pages, which annoyed the hell out of me all over again as I tried to flip back to previous sections as things began to fit together. But that's a minor annoyance in what was a lovely book, one which adds depth to the characters and world we'd previously met, as well as bringing in lots of great new characters and tying everything together well at the end.

Ultimately, I'd recommend The Orphan's Tales to almost anyone, with the caveat that it requires some concentration; I read In the Night Garden and In the Cities of Coin and Spice over about three and a half weeks, during which I was quite busy, and with one other book in between, and despite my being a detail-oriented reader there were occasional references I didn't remember. Ideally you'd read both books over a long weekend with few distractions. One of these days I'll have to read them again--and yes, they are that good.

[Kat Hooper · Rating 5 out of 5]

ORIGINALLY POSTED AT Fantasy Literature.

I haven't read any fantasy quite like Catherynne M. Valente's The Orphan's Tales duology. This is the story of a young orphan girl who is shunned because of the dark smudges that appeared on her eyelids when she was a baby. She lives alone in a sultan's garden because people think she's a demon and nobody will claim her. However, one of the young sons of the sultan, a curious fellow, finds her in the garden and asks her about her dark eyes. She explains that there are wonderful stories written on her eyelids and that a spirit has told her she must read and tell the stories; Then the spirit will return and judge her. The prince loves stories, he begs her to tell him one, and so she begins.

The rest of In the Night Garden and its sequel In the Cities of Coin and Spice is a collection of nested stories that are interspersed with short interactions between the young prince and the girl with the dark eyes (somewhat like The Arabian Nights). These stories are all connected to each other, but each is unique and highly imaginative. There are fascinating creatures--many based on myths and fairy tales--like a monopod, two griffins, a necromancer, a wicked papess, an otter king, a woman with three breasts, three brothers with dog heads who become accidental cannibals, a leucrotta, a Magyr, a skin seller, living stars fallen to earth . . . and these are just some of those that I can describe in a few words (and I'm not giving them justice). The characters in The Orphan's Tales remind me of the Cantina Scene in Star Wars. The darker characters, (e.g., the wizard and the necromancer), are particularly excellent. Ms Valente's imagination for bizzarre characters and plots exceeds Lewis Carroll's and she never lets up. Each story is brilliant and brilliantly told.

And the prose is truly beautiful:

"He was very tall, and thin as a length of paper. His skin and cloaks were the color of the moon--not the romantic lover's moon, but the true lunar geography I had heard whispered by Sun-and-Moon Nurians come to buy glass for their strange sky-spying tools: gray and pockmarked, full of secret craters, frigid peaks, and blasted expanses. His eyes had no color in them save for a pinpoint pupil like a spindle's wound--the rest was pure, milky white. He passed three solid gold pieces over my mother's palm, and she shuddered in revulsion at his touch when the money changed hands. She handed me over eagerly, examining the coins like a fat pig snuffling at its supper slop."

"My mother had kept silent as a nun since the day my sister was taken from her. I was an infant when she vanished from us; I never knew that sister. But her absence stalked the house like a hungry dog. The hole where she had been took up space at our dinner table, it sagged and slumped in the musty air, it ate and drank and breathed down all of our necks. . . I grew up alone in that silent house with nothing but the stinking cows and my mute mother and the hole. Even my father didn't want to spend his days there; he stayed in the fields directing hay-rolling and goat-breeding until it was dark enough to slip back inside the house without anyone bothering him. But still, the hole answered the bell when he rang, and he had to scurry to bed with his head down to avoid looking it in the eye."

There are many more of these gorgeous passages to enjoy. My only complaint about the writing itself is that there are dozens of characters in The Orphan's Tales and they ALL talk like that. So, it's not very realistic, but I suppose realism wasn't exactly what Ms Valente, as a poet, was going for.

One other small complaint I have is that because the stories of The Orphan's Tales seem at first to be random and unrelated, it's hard to feel deeply involved with many of the characters because they don't stick around for long (except for the orphan and the sultan's son who don't do much but talk and listen). But, again, that's the point, because we learn at the end of In the Cities of Coin and Spice that all of the strange stories and characters actually contribute to, and explain, the history of the orphan girl. Perhaps that's a bit of a spoiler, but you'll enjoy the stories more if you realize that it's all going somewhere. And, besides, you're a clever reader, and you'll probably figure out that there's got to be something going on here besides just a bunch of beautifully-written, highly imaginative, unconnected stories.

But, the main reason I'm telling you this is because I know you'll get more out of your reading if you follow the advice I'm going to give you... Just trust me: Get yourself a pencil, a pad of paper, and a fine cup of caffeinated coffee (in my experience, a Starbucks Venti Latte works best). Sit down with In the Night Garden and read the first few pages up to the point where the girl starts to tell "the first tale I was able to read, from the crease of my left eyelid." This first story is about Prince Leander. Write "Prince Leander" at the bottom of your paper. Prince Leander runs into a gray-haired tattooed "crone" and a few pages later, she starts to tell her story. Write "crone," or whatever you want to call her, above Prince Leander's name. Soon, "crone" starts telling the story that her grandmother told her. Write "crone's grandmother" above her name. (I've got a picture of my own notes at Fantasy Literature ) This is not the kind of book you can leave for a few days and come back to unless you have notes to tell you who was talking to who. Or unless you're a lot smarter than me ... which is certainly possible.

Highly recommended for the reader who appreciates beautiful prose, is willing to take notes, and is looking for something original.

Read more Catherynne Valente book reviews at Fantasy Literature

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

When this book came out, I went straight out and bought both it and the first half of the pair, "In the Night Garden," because I'd read the first one and loved it so much that I wanted to have them both for always. Valente's prose is gorgeous - rich, velvety, three-dimensonal, and painfully honest. And the stories-within-stories-within-stories connect beautifully with each other, and with stories and characters from the first book. The characters feel like real people, and she makes you care about even the most villainous. And finally, finally, finally, a happy ending that also makes sense within the context of the novel.

[Sandi · Rating 3 out of 5]

I loved the first book. The intricate interweaving of the stories looping back and integrating with the previous threads of story like a three dimensional tapestry (I have just blanked on a suitable simile - maybe one will come to me later). This book, on the other hand… this story is a continuation of the first but where the first carried me along, this one kept dropping me into the deep end. I do not know if I just had a less cohesive attention span, but every time the story jumped, I had a hard time keeping track of who was who and what was going on. This was a story of monsters and children and the fates of the unwanted; incorporating gems and trees and birds. The outer story injected itself much less regularly and I think losing that superstructure made the internal story arcs too long, disconnected and meandering. Less seemed to actually happen in this book and many of the stories did not really seem to go anywhere or do anything or resolve themselves or even tie together.
I don’t know. This may be a book I have to reread later, but I did not enjoy it much and it took way too long for me to slog through so I doubt I will have the interest to muster the intestinal fortitude to do so in the near future. The language was beautiful, the imagery was intriguing, but it all left me cold and seemed really belabored. On the other hand, the embedded illustrations were beautiful and I am one who generally ignores pictures (other than maps). And really, two pages on the flavors of moth consumed bird tears with no apparent connection to the story – indulgent. This story would really have benefitted from the author crafting a flow chart of the story threads and making sure that they were interwoven sufficiently to support the whole.

[Reed · Rating 2 out of 5]

Valente's previous novel left me dazzled by her creativity and deft handling of a story within a story within a story writing style.

The sequel brings more of the same, but it lost me somewhere along the way. Her creativity is at times just too danged bizarre for my tastes. Often her creatures/creations seemed like a random mish mash of ideas and parts, like a monster hastily created by a overzealous D&D player from my role playing days in the 80s: "Yeah, well . . . you see in front of you a big, shambling creature, and it's made . . . yeah, get this . . . it's made entirely of string cheese! Yeah, I know, right? Crazy!"

I'm not sure why the first novel blew me away and the second one left me flat. I finally gave up halfway through. I rarely abandon novels but I have no choice. Who knows if I'll every pick it up again. I will still check out Valente's next book, in deference to the thrill she gave me in the past, but I will certainly be more cautious.

[Jen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Winding and tangling back and back, swinging forward and backward like a holy censer, the tendrils of it's smoke reaching out and around and into each other like the coils of a snake...
Along with Calvino's Invisible Cities, this might very well be one of the most imaginative and beautiful books I've ever read.

[Robin Tompkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

They say that necessity is the mother of invention but I think it might actually be Catherynne M Valente. I can’t remember when I last read anything quite as ingenious as these Orphan’s Tales.

This second book of the Orphan’s Tales is every bit as sumptuous and spectacular as the first. I will not go into too much detail here regarding style and content, as I covered it all pretty well in my review of book one. You can see that review here…

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

Suffice it to say that this is more of the same.

If you loved the first one you will love this one. If you had any worries about the possibility that the whole thing would just sort of tail off and end inconclusively, which I admit I did going into part two, then fear not. This wonderful tangled skein of tales wraps up into a tidy and satisfying bow. You realise at the end, that what you have been looking at is a tapestry, you couldn’t see it before, because you were myopically squinting at it one thread at a time. In the last few pages, you are allowed to step back and get the full picture.

Once again, as with the first book, if you dislike complex fractured storytelling or cannot get along with ornate language, then leave it on the shelf. It also almost goes without saying, that you must read book one before picking up this one.

However, if lush language and wonderous invention delight you, then do read these books.

Highly recommended.

In the Cities of Coin and Spice

[georgia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another book I had to read for my english class. There are so many stories in this, so it tended to be a little confusing at times, but was super well written and for the most part super interesting. I liked it overall, but didn’t love it and so think that’s just because It’s not something that I’m usually into reading, something i’m eagerly looking forward to constantly, but I’d say it was a pretty decent read. I have to admit, I was not expecting the ending but i’m beyond delighted about it.

I’d recommend it if you’re looking for crazy, all over the place tales that intertwine with one another. Also super cool drawings inside that match with portions of the story! and the author has live readings of her on youtube if an audiobook would be a better option (definitely helped me when I was stuck reading certain parts).

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have a complicated relationship with Valente's books. I love love love them, until I don't. I adore her gorgeous prose, I'm thrilled by her fantastic imagination, I'm intoxicated by her amazing symbolism and ideas, and I'm inhabited by the characters she creates. But then I find myself reading a couple of pages and wandering away, forcing myself to go back to it so I can just get through it, checking how much more I need to read.... I think there just isn't enough story to keep me going for the whole book. It's like a gorgeous art film that you really need to focus on and try hard at interpreting in order to really enjoy - it's not actually entertaining, even though it can be engrossing. I suppose I could just relax and sip slowly at it without worrying about getting through in a timely manner, but the nested stories do interconnect in so many ways that if you forget things you'll be missing out - I could already tell that there were references to the first book that I only vaguely recalled. Anyway. If you like her other books, you'll like this one. There are plants growing from people, gems used as food, cities that grew from the earth and then were devoured by teethmonsters, journeys beyond death, and so many other wonderful things. But I only made it to the midpoint and then just had to stop. I'm sorry.

[Nicole · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful ending to a beautiful story

[Jessica Lewenda · Rating 5 out of 5]

Valente does not disappoint. Another favourite.

[Rolien · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow. This is a modern masterpiece.
Yesterday I finished this book and for what seemed to be different stories with a number of links, all came together in an overarching story. If you're looking for a pageturner, this is not it. It takes some time to really appreciate this book. You really have to pay attention which "level" story you're reading. It's stories, in stories, nested in other stories. Fairytales of all cultures mixed and recreated to a new and magical new world. And all written in beautiful language, which really makes the story come alive.

Take your time with these books, and if possible, read the second book immediately after the first. It will really pay off. And… I think I may be in for a re-read of these, shortly.

[Louise · Rating 4 out of 5]

4 Stars

[Jen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’ve never read anything like this.

[Eustacia Tan · Rating 4 out of 5]

After I finished this book, I realised that I definitely waited too long after reading "In the Night Garden" (the first book), because In the Cities of Coin and Spice continues the tale etched on the eyelids of the girl in the garden. It's the same framing device, but it feels much more fleshed out this time. And a good thing too, because the 'framing device' turns out to be important (not gonna give any spoilers, so don't worry).

Like the previous book, each tale the girl tells is a tale within a tale within a tale and all tales are linked. It's extremely layered and the writing is as beautiful and descriptive as the previous book. I really enjoyed the fact that myths and fairytales from all around the world were referenced too.

The only weakness of the book is that because the story is so interconnected, one weak story can throw disrupt the book for a good period of time. Thankfully, this only happened once but that was more than enough. Plus, if I put the book down, I ended up being confused when I restarted, because of how complicated it was (so I guess you should just read the book in one sitting).

Oh yeah, and you're going to want to read both books one after the other because if not, you will get confused. I was like "who is this Zmeya person?" (Wait, she appeared in book one, right? I can't remember), which slightly marred the ending.

If you're a fan of lyrical writing, intricate stories and have a lot of time, you should definitely pick up these books.

This review was first posted at Inside the mind of a Bibliophile

[Майя Ставитская · Rating 4 out of 5]

Где все мы будем счастливы, когда-нибудь, Бог даст>
Пойдём в мир и край где есть найденные потерянные девочки. Я покажу тебе много странных и чудесных вещей.
Она не из тех литераторов, кто всю жизнь пишет одну книгу, Кэтрин Валенте умеет быть многоликой, оставаясь верной неповторимому авторскому стилю. Всегда непростая, избыточная, виртуозно сочетает несочетаемое, может хитро впрячь в одну повозку коня и трепетную лань (да что там, единорога с носорогом!) и заставить двигаться в заданном направлении, а может показать на блюде студня косые скулы океана.

С одной оговоркой, прежде писательница представала в различных ипостасях с разными произведениями. Подростковая "Девочка, которая объехала Волшебную Страну..." ожидаемо отличалась от хардкорного "Бессмертного", а люто постмодернистский "Палимпсест" от гимна поп-культуре "Космооперы". Но в рамках одного цикла, даже в сборнике рассказов, Кэтрин оставалась носителем единого стиля. Со "Сказками сироты" иначе. Вторая часть, "Города монет и пряностей" отличается от первой "В ночном саду" как день от ночи. Вопреки названию, темная сторона не та, где ночной сад, а та, от которой ждешь солнечного многоцветья восточного базара с его монетами и пряностями.

"В ночном саду" тоже не то, чтобы развеселье, но там за грустью звезд, истекающих светом, как кровью, лукавая цветистость восточной сказки, оскаруайльдовский дендизм, душевность Нила Геймана, романтическая остраненность обыденного от Питера Бигля. Иногда казалось, что все они, включая Шахерезаду, сидят на золотом крыльце, рассказывая сказки, которые непременно закончатся хорошо, какие бы испытания не довелось пережить героям. Вторая часть вся погружение во мрак. "Города монет и пряностей" сплошь истории детей, которых родители оставляют, предают, обрекают на смерть или участь, худшую смерти. Даже не потому, что мало любят, но потому, что изначально не могут позволить себе любить. Есть вещи, над которыми люди не властны. Для продолжения жизни рода, семьи, клана приходится жертвовать одним его маленьким членом. "Не мы такие, жизнь такая". И не смейте судить если не были в их шкуре.

Вот, кстати, тема шкуры для "Сказок сироты" невероятно значима и звучит лейтмотивом в обеих частях. Рассказывая о "Ночном саде" как-то к слову не пришлось коснуться, теперь случай выпал, исправляюсь. Шкура у Валенте - это буквально личина, обличье, то,что можно силой или хитростью забрать у человека, животного, бестии, чтобы после пользоваться. Или продать. Или обменять на что-нибудь полезное. Или держать у себя, как залог покорности прежнего обладателя. В реалиях Валенте, потерявший шкуру не погибает и не превращается в бесформенное нечто, но тускнеет, становится незаметным, из него уходит витальность. Раздвоен и радости жизни не может ощутить. Радикальная метаморфоза, которую персонаж претерпевает посредством несложной процедуры смены внешнего вещественного антуража, весьма в русле мироощущения владыки вещного мира Тельца (солнечный знак писательницы) и она умеет разыграть этот мотив, как никому другому не удается.

Но еще более удивительна, исполненная по-тельцовски циничной основательности, тема конвертации органического в неорганическое, плодов земли в съедобные драгоценные камни, плоти в монеты. Последнее ужасающе и невероятно реалистично, при всей сюрровости. Детские тела, частями помещаемые в монструозный механизм, выходят из него монетами, за которые во внешнем мире можно многое приобрести. Пара брошенных сирот, планируя побег, всерьез обсуждает, что если пожертвовать рукой мальчика, монет будет больше. Они сделают это, превратят в двенадцать монет отсеченную машиной руку. Жутко? Ну, это еще не самое страшное, с чем вам доведется столкнуться на этих страницах, которых я не рекомендовала бы слабонервным и брезгливым.

Для тех, кто ищет новых ярких впечатлений, любит непростые сказки и не боится разрывать шаблон, книга может стать источником многих читательских радостей. И, не исключено, подарит новый благодарный взгляд на скучную бессобытийную обыденность. Иногда нелишне взглянуть на реальность более благодарным взглядом.

[Sarah McGill · Rating 5 out of 5]

With Dinazade’s marriage soon approaching, the prince returns to the garden to hear more of the girl’s amazing stories. As she tells him of a journey to the land of the dead, the dead town of Marrow, a devastating hunger, and a huldra’s attempt to find a place for herself, Dinazade grows ever more afraid of her upcoming marriage and the prince begins to understand better both Dinazade and the strange girl in the garden.

This may be the best of Catherynne’s books that I’ve read. While I would categorize the Book of the Steppe as a reworked fairytale and the Book of the Sea as a legend, the Book of the Storm and the Book of the Scald are epic stories of hurt and pain. The Book of the Scald especially borders on myth – an evolution from the Book of the Steppe that is both fascinating to watch and mounts the tension and suspense across the two books.

The Book of the Storm begins with the seventh son of a seventh son journeying across a strange river with a stranger ferryman after paying with a foreboding coin. Seven’s story is much darker than the previous stories and ranges across a variety of characters who must deal with death, hunger, loss, and unrighteous theft of very personal things. The idea of hunger (most dramatically depicted in a beast made of tooth that, after devouring a substance, leaves it behind, changed) borders on disturbing and creates an amazingly dark atmosphere – especially as various creatures fall to hunger and yet continue living a shadow existence. This is contrasted later when the ferryman tells the story of Marrow, before it was devoured. This creates an interesting reverse chronology such that even though you know the city is going to die, you’re left with the image of a glorious and thriving city.

There are many other wonderful examples of this sort of reverse logic. A pair of shoes tells the story of a holy girl who died for her city and came back wicked. The girl later tells the story herself, recasting it into a very different story. The Book of the Scald also examines a city that isn’t as dead as it initially seems. The slow build up in this section is especially beautiful. Beginning with the assumption that the city is dead, you are introduced to a few characters – described as still dancing in the husk of an old woman. But as the book goes on you are introduced to more and more characters until you suddenly realize the city isn’t dead at all – it’s just not a thriving metropolis. The final image of the city and this realization combine to paint a beautiful portrait of a quiet life overlooked.

I was blown away, most especially, by the world building. This book deals with many intentionally deformed characters, who have become deformed for the sake of their craft. Their exploration of ‘proper’ behavior and discovery of who they want to be ranges across unexpected landscapes and twists. Despite how short each segment is, we get a full sense of the character’s origin (or, often, the origin of the whole race), journey, and lessons learned.

As in the first book, most of the connections are faint nods to other characters, but several storylines are wrapped up, which I’m very happy about. Specifically, Aerie gets a full part in these books and a much more satisfying conclusion.

Despite the interwoven nature of the story, I wasn’t entirely satisfied with the ending. I guess I would have preferred the stories to remain more abstract and therefore more fairytalesque, but it was an ending that made a lot of sense and tied up a lot of questions. And, overall, the story was a beautiful portrayal of overlooked people who suffer and survive.

[Nancy O'Toole · Rating 3 out of 5]

Alone in a garden lives a young girl filled with stories written on her eyelids in the blackest of ink. Her tales are so enchanting that she has drawn in the son of the sultan to listen to her every night, despite the fact that his visit are forbidden by his older sister, Dinarzad. Only this time around, the stories are a little darker, and life at the palace becomes more complex when a terrified Dinarzad becomes engaged to a wealthy man.

In The Cities of Coin and Spice is the second and final book in The Orphan's Tales. It contains many of the positive aspects that could be found in the first book, such as Valente's lush writing style, and the stories within stories format. Like the first book, this novel is divided into two sections. Each section contains one big story made of many little stories. One of my favorite parts was picking up on the little moments that tied the big stories from both books together. One thing I really liked about In the Cities of Coin and Spice in particular is how we got to see a little more of what's going on outside the girl's stories, as can be seen with Dinarzad's wedding, and the girl's own reflections on her current state of living. This gives the characters that frame the story more depth and makes them much more interesting. To be perfectly honest, I wish that Valente has spent even more time on these particular characters, as I wanted to learn more about them.

Although there is so much to love about this book, I do feel that comes up short when compared to In the Night Garden. The two large stories are not as engrossing, and the characters on a whole aren't as compelling. Don't get me wrong, many of the smaller stories within the large stories were absolutely fantastic. I love the stories of the hungry ruler who couldn't stop eating, and the little spider that became a seamstress. I also enjoyed the homages to established fairy tales like “Diamonds and Toads,” “Brother and Sister,” “Beauty and the Beast,” and “The Midas Touch.” Still, I feel as if the larger tales just weren't as interesting, and didn't resolve themselves as satisfyingly as the previous volume. Part of the reason could have been that I read the majority of this book while going through a difficult time emotionally (my fiancé's fifteen year old cousin died unexpectedly), so I couldn't concentrate on it as much as I wanted to.

Faults aside, In the Cities of Coin and Spice is a likable follow up to In the Night Garden. One of my favorite parts is the ending. That alone made the book worth picking up. I'm really happy I decided to pick up this often overlooked series.

[Terry · Rating 5 out of 5]

Khaamil, a Djinn, a character in The Orphan’s Tales, says, “[W]eve the libraries to ourselves, we can discover just exactly who is who—imagine! . . . [L]et’s find out who you are. . . . Where you come from! Genealogy is such a lot of fun.” Sorrow, upon whose eyelids are imprinted Khaamil’s words, knows nothing of herself, of her own origins. She can read the stories on the inner surfaces of her eyelids but must rely on someone else to read the stories on the outer surfaces while she closes her eyes.

I have never particularly enjoyed the practice of genealogy which seems to me steeped in the dustiest forms of history: names, places, dates. All sans stories. There are exceptions. Sharon Doubiago’s Hard Country explores what I would call the genealogy of herself as a poet by way of exploring the stories of not only her own origins but the ways in which her personal story is shaped by her forbears not only of blood but of art and nationality. In the same way, Valente has turned the notion of genealogy into a wealth of stories just as one of her characters has directed:

“What is it, Master Calligrapher, that little girls do in the way that spiders weave?" Sleeve asked primly.
The Calligrapher coughed, for his room was very dusty, and there was dust even on his eyelashes, and said: "It is right and proper," he said, "for a girl to read as many books as there are bricks in this city, and then, when she is finished, to begin to write new ones which are made out of the old ones, as this city is made of those stones.”

It is of such stuff that The Orphan’s Tales is made. From the tale of the first falling star, one might be tempted to say of the first Fallen Star, to the tale of the boy and girl stepping out of the palace gates into the wide, wild world, the Tales are a genealogy of Story itself.

Jeanette Winterson once said that Stories end in reverie, tragedy, or forgiveness. N. Scott Momaday in Ancient Child wrote “There is one story . . . and we tell it endlessly . . . it is the definition of our being.” Cormac McCarthy has it, in The Crossing, that “Of the telling there is no end. And . . . in whatever . . . place by whatever . . . name or by no name at all . . . all tales are one.” Valente has given us the reimagined realm in which every story is both new and old, containing within itself not only its own past and present but its own future as well.