Review: 'Siren Queen' by Nghi Vo

After falling in love with Vo's writing in The City in Glass, my brain shamefully reminded me I still had a review copy of Siren Queen floating around. I jumped in, wondering if I would feel the same thrill as I did with City and reader, I am glad to report that I did indeed feel it once again. Thanks to Tor Books and NetGalley for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. My sincere apologies for the delay in reviewing!

Pub. Date: 10/05/2022
Publisher: Macmillan-Tor/Forge; Tor Books

It was magic. In every world, it was a kind of magic.

“No maids, no funny talking, no fainting flowers.” Luli Wei is beautiful, talented, and desperate to be a star. Coming of age in pre-Code Hollywood, she knows how dangerous the movie business is and how limited the roles are for a Chinese American girl from Hungarian Hill—but she doesn't care. She’d rather play a monster than a maid.

But in Luli's world, the worst monsters in Hollywood are not the ones on screen. The studios want to own everything from her face to her name to the women she loves, and they run on a system of bargains made in blood and ancient magic, powered by the endless sacrifice of unlucky starlets like her. For those who do survive to earn their fame, success comes with a steep price. Luli is willing to do whatever it takes—even if that means becoming the monster herself.

Siren Queen offers up an enthralling exploration of an outsider achieving stardom on her own terms, in a fantastical Hollywood where the monsters are real and the magic of the silver screen illuminates every page.

A while back, everyone was raving about The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, all about the glamour of Old Hollywood with queer rep. I finally got around to reading it a year or so ago and, as I said in my review, it merely whelmed me. Siren Queen, however, was what I had expected Seven Husbands to me. There are no seven husbands, but here are conversations about the dangerous of being queer, of being found out, of being alone. I felt that the love here was grounded in a realism that somehow complimented the fantastical elements of the novel. There is also the glitz and glamour of Old Hollywood, which here actually is infused with all the danger and thrill that magic can bring. The camera is hungry for you and you might get lost on production sets and be called into the dark by ancient things. Truly, if you liked Seven Husbands, you need to read Siren Queen.

Our protagonist falls in love with cinema the first time she trades a bit of hair for a ticket to see Romeo & Juliet. She knows the world of film is dangerous, but when the opportunity comes to play small background roles, she jumps at it. As a first generation Chinese-American, she knows the exoticism some see in her and, as she grows up, she figures out how to use this to her advantage. Negotiating her way into a Hollywood studio contract, she takes on the name Luli and begins trying to craft a career that will earn her a star. But studio lots are full of dark corners and behind the smiles of studio heads ancient things hide. We never learn our protagonist's true name and I love this about the book, how it takes the magic in its world seriously enough. There are no grand explanations of how things work exactly in this world, but not in a sloppy world-building way but in a fairy tale-like way. Some things just are and asking why and how is not going to help you in moving past them. In an intriguing way this also compliments the novella's themes of immigration, sexuality, and assimilation. Trying to fit into a world full of rules that make no sense, that seem designed just to keep you out, you can either dash yourself against these rules or find ways to live despite them. In pursuit of life, choices are made by our characters which are not always the best, but I could never quite find it in myself to judge them for it.

By now I think I'm just solidly in love with Nghi Vo's writing. The way she infuses straightforward, simple sentences with magic is something I will probably end up studying more closely. This infusion means that rereading Vo's work will probably also be a lot of fun. More than City in Glass, Siren Queen has a darkness to it, both on and off page, that I found incredibly intriguing. That darkness is also inherent to our protagonist, who, when offered the choice of roles, would rather be a monster. What I really liked, however, is how Vo thematises this issue of servility vs. monstrosity, by having our protagonist come face to face with actresses who choose to play it "safe", playing into certain stereotypes. There is a strength there as well, once which she actually does not possess, and this beautifully complicates the entire theme of the story. Once again, I also adored Vo's descriptions. Hollywood, and LA, here came to life for me in ways they did not in Seven Husbands and the magic of cinema became epic. It reminded me a little of Silvia Moreno-Garcia's Silver Nitrate that way. Both nail the Gothic fascination with capturing an image, becoming something else, and the revelatory horror inherent to that, and any, transformation. I can't wait to read more by Nghi Vo!

I give this novella...

5 Universes!

I don't know if I'm capable of rating any Nghi Vo book any lower than this, but Siren Queen was amazing. With a stunning, Gothic atmosphere, dangerous and alluring magic, and strong explorations of sexuality and immigration, this is a solid recommendation to pretty much anyone!