A review by skycrane
A Stranger in Olondria by Sofia Samatar

4.0

The silence. End of all poetry, all romances. Earlier, frightened, you began to have some intimation of it: so many pages had been turned, the book was so heavy in one hand, so light in the other, thinning toward the end. Still, you consoled yourself. You were not quite at the end of the story, at that terrible flyleaf, blank like a shuttered window: there were still a few pages under your thumb, still to be sought and treasured. Oh, was it possible to read more slowly?—No. The end approached, inexorable, at the same measured pace. The last page, the last of the shining words! And there—the end of the book. The hard cover which, when you turn it, gives you only this leather stamped with old roses and shields.

I didn't quite feel that way as I finished A Stranger in Olondria, but it certainly resonates with me. The language throughout perfectly evokes its narrator, Jevick of Tyom, a man in love with books and the wondrous land of Olondria from which they come. Parts of the book, especially those that describe his homeland, feel like translated poetry, while the parts in and about Olondria feel much more natural, a hint about who Jevick is speaking to. All in all, the writing feels deliberate and purposeful, part of the characterization of person and place.

As for the story, when Jevick takes his father's place in the annual journey to sell pepper in Olondria, he at first thinks that the place is even more wonderful than he had imagined from his tutor's stories. But no land is paradise, and he finds himself involved in a conflict between the old hedonistic cult of death and a new ascetic religion. However, though major events happen around Jevick, the focus always on his personal, introspective journey. The other main characters are made relevant by the stories they tell; to Jevick, a person's story is their soul.