Dear friend—
When it comes to sentences, Nghi Vo only writes bangers.
Last year I read Vo’s (she/her) The Chosen and The Beautiful, a magical realism queer retelling of The Great Gatsby from the point of view of Jordan Baker. I immediately declared it one of the best YA books I’d read in a long time, if not one of the best books full stop.
Not since Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone was I so completely bowled over by the prose of a book. It’s lush. It’s clever. It’s rhythmic. Every sentence is a song, buoyed by the imaginative magic that Vo infuses into her world.
Siren Queen is a fantastic follow-up to The Chosen and The Beautiful. Vo trades Jazz Age New York for the Golden Age of Hollywood. Again, in this alternative history, enchantment blooms in every corner, beautiful in one moment and horrifying the next. The three major studios can make you a star—but not without a price.
Enter the main character, an at-first nameless Chinese-American girl growing up in Hungarian Hill, a stone’s throw away from the stars of Hollywood. She works with her sister in their family’s laundromat, going to the movies whenever she can afford it and paying for tickets with locks of her hair when she can’t. Then, a chance encounter pulls her onto a film set, and the director takes a chance on her.
So begins her career, first as a child extra with bit parts, and then, as a signed actor at Wolfe studios. Once inside the fold of the studio, she’s given the name Luli Wei and a whole new world unfurls. One that is capricious and cruel, just as likely to make you a star shining immortal as it is to wring your face, your voice, your body, and your soul before casting you aside as a husk.
There are Friday night bonfires where stars hold court and shadows hide all manner of things; grand hunts in the style of faeries and medieval lords; the glamor of movie sets and costumes and makeup; bargains and transformations; the disguises you wear to get ahead, and the sacrifices you make to grasp immortality.
That’s something I thought Vo executed so well—mirroring our own historic Hollywood. I’m not super familiar with the history of the time, but what feels real (and which I’m sure happened all the time) is how everyone hides parts of themselves to make it big.
One actor passes as white, bundling up his Venezuelan heritage; a female screenwriter hides behind a male pseudonym; Luli herself hides her queerness and her relationships. Nearly every actor gets a new name once they sign with the studios, burying their past and some essential part of them that isn’t fit for the screen.
It reminds me of a piece of Hollywood history that has recently come up because of Michelle Yeoh’s nomination for best actress at this year’s Oscars. While Yeoh is the first Asian woman to be nominated as an Asian woman, she’s preceded by Merle Oberon, an English actor with Maori and Sri Lankan heritage, who hid her ethnicity throughout her career.
I do have a few qualms about Siren Queen—it leans a bit too heavily on style than on substance, i.e. character and plot (which, as we know, is actually my thing. Give me all the style). The vibes are all there, but Luli’s character remains inscrutable. I never really understood her need for stardom, even though it’s the driving force of the book.
There are some plot points that are picked up and then left loose, unresolved, by the end. Luli’s relationship with her sister feels too neatly wrapped up. Some of the side characters, even the most important ones, come across as flat; they aren’t given any depth outside of their relationship to Luli.
And, funnily enough, I read this book more slowly than usual, putting it down and then coming back to it, because sometimes it was too much. When every sentence is a star, when every moment is fantastical, it can get a bit overwhelming just to finish a chapter.
Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but love this book. The world is so stunning, with some jaw-dropping display of magic around every corner. As unpredictable as it can be, it has the comforting logic of fairy tales; every boon has a price, every desire has a consequence.
I also loved how time moved and I loved Luli’s voice, as she tells her story in retrospect (with some interjections from the present that maybe could be seen as gimmicky but I thought were clever). I liked how her relationships progressed and how rich it all felt; the book doesn’t really track any single plot line too tightly, but expands into all the nooks and crannies of this slice of her life.
All that said, Siren Queen was a fantastic read that I recommend wholeheartedly. It might not be for everyone, but if it is for you, you’ll be absolutely starstruck.
Thanks for reading, chat soon,
—mia xx