The Familiar: A Novel

Absolute smash. I'm a long-time Leigh Bardugo fan and still hold that Six of Crows is one of her very best works but this is right in that same vein. The setting is gorgeous, the magic elements throughout are thoughtful and precise, and the connections among the characters had me wanting to re-read it as soon as I finished!

Fantasy at its best, and sans dragons and faeries and smut!! I love historical fiction and this 16th century epic is set during the Spanish Inquisition with magic, greed, love worth fighting for, church corruption at its finest, and full of nonstop action. I couldn’t put this down; I started it via the Audible version through Libby and had to run to my local indie bookstore and pick up the hardback so I could see the words I was hearing and feeling. Book #54 in 2024

“There is nothing I might not do.” My first five star read of 2024! The Familiar is also the first book I’ve read by Leigh Bardugo, and it did clearly did not disappoint! Exceptional writing and intriguing characters. A combination of historical fiction, magical realism/fantasy, and romance is the recipe for my favorite kinds of books!

Leigh Bardugo's "The Familiar" is a historical fiction fantasy novel inspired by the author's own family lineage. It unfolds against the backdrop of the late 1500s, amidst the tumult of the Spanish Inquisition and Spain's conflict with England. The novel begins with a foreboding quote: "If the bread hadn’t burned, this would be a different story." Luzia Cotado, the story's heroine, is a scullion, the lowest-ranked servant in the household of Don Marius and Dona Valentiña Ordoño. Concealing her Jewish heritage becomes paramount for Luzia, who diligently attends Mass, maintains silence, feigns illiteracy, adopts a hunched posture, and strives to remain inconspicuous, allowing others to underestimate her true capabilities and avoiding any inquiry into her lineage. Luzia’s lineage isn't her sole hidden truth. She possesses another secret skill: casting simple spells using "refranes," a blend of Hebrew and Spanish proverbs "passed down like chipped plates." Her "milagritos" (little miracles) encompass tasks like mending torn garments, multiplying food rations, repairing broken items, and salvaging burnt bread—the very bread that inadvertently reveals her extraordinary ability. Marius, burdened by a dwindling fortune from an olive grove that yields no fruit, enters into marriage with Valentiña, whose dowry is deemed unremarkable, much like her appearance. However, Valentiña's perception shifts when she uncovers Luzia's hidden talents, utilizing her scullion's "milagritos" to advance her ambitions within Madrid's social circles. Through lavish gatherings, the Ordoño household swiftly ascends to prominence, becoming the talk of the town. Before long, Luzia's remarkable abilities attract the attention of Don Victor de Paredes and his servant, Guillén Santángel, known by the moniker "The Scorpion." Disgraced secretary to Spain’s king, Antonio Pérez, orchestrates a tournament for the king’s holy champion, a desperate bid to regain favor and aid Spain in its conflict against England’s heretical queen. Santángel, an immortal who relinquished his luck and freedom for eternal life, has dutifully served the Paredes family for generations. When Victor de Paredes uncovers Luzia’s magical talents, he nominates her as the king’s holy champion, aspiring to elevate his societal standing and amass greater wealth. In return for mentoring Luzia and securing victory in the tournament, Victor pledges to liberate Santángel from his centuries-long bondage to the family. Among the contenders vying for the esteemed title of the king’s holy champion are the Prince of Olives, Fortún Donadei, a precocious seer named Teoda Halcón, and the enigmatic Gracia de Valera, whose purported magical prowess remains dubious. Reminiscent of Sarah J. Maas’ “Throne of Glass,” competitors are gradually eliminated, often under suspicious circumstances, until only two remain to engage in a mesmerizing magical duel. Amidst the backdrop of twists, betrayals, and perilous encounters, the gradual blossoming of affection between Luzia and Santángel offers a compelling narrative thread, underscoring their struggle for survival and the evolving dynamics of their relationship. While the novel captivates with its enchanting narrative, it grapples with an apparent oversight in the storyline, a common pitfall in magical realism. Why doesn't Luzia utilize her magical abilities to restore Marius' struggling olive grove? The Ordoño household faces dire financial straits, with Luzia herself enduring harsh living conditions. Her situation could have been vastly improved had she employed her powers to assist the household, potentially elevating her own standing in return. Furthermore, it remains unclear why Luzia doesn't liberate herself from captivity sooner or utilize her powers during the competition against her rivals. Despite these narrative gaps and instances of shortsightedness, the novel enthralls with its eloquent prose, seamlessly blending historical fiction with gripping suspense and a poignant fairytale romance.

Honestly? A better novel than expected. I really thought Luiza was well crafted—the mistakes, the cravings, the disaster—she courts it like one would expect. I loved her flawed character and I loved the thick danger of men in this book. I also loved Valentina’s journey. I thought Bardugo’s portrayal of the Spanish Inquisition was great—power and religion and the desperate struggle for control. I also liked the immigrant story—of magic and melody that come from an accumulation of languages and cultures. For once, I liked the ending! I don’t typically enjoy neat endings. But the harsh reality of this book made it feel earned. Regardless, this book was well written and its various glimpses of POVs actually worked very well. The writing style was very, very good. Read this if you like historicals; love flawed characters and enjoy gritty magical realism.