Nghi Vo’s The Singing Hills novellas from the beginning have centered on the stories as they are remembered and retold and lived out. Their framework at the start has been a story within a story; a traveling cleric Chih being the recipient of a story or a legend, with the readers seeing how the stories are made and shaped and how it turn they shape the events. The previous novella in the series, Mammoths at the Gates, broke out of the pattern by actually having Chih at the center of events, and this one follows suit with one more twist — Chih here is part of the story itself.
“The world starts with a story. So do dynasties and eras and wars. So does love, and so does revenge. Everything starts with a story.”
As it quickly becomes clear to the reader, this is a version of Bluebeard, but with a bit of variation to make it interesting. If something about the way the story unfolds seems a bit off, a bit suspect, it’s because it’s meant to be. It’s still quiet and unfolds gently, but this time with a slight aftertaste of horror and a good helping of unsettling tension.
“Chih finally understood that the monsters were everywhere.”
I loved the first and the third book in this series, but this novella did not hit all the high notes those two had. I think I miss the story within a story framework although I do appreciate seeing more of Chih again, involved in a story itself instead of being part of storytelling. The story “twist” was both interesting as it derailed the expectations and a bit of a whiplash, abruptly changing the narrative flow. And the gothic feel — if this is what you like, you’ll probably adore this one, but I’m usually left a bit cold by that tone.
books are life 
oh fudge. i dislike the Bluebeard tale.
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