Once upon a time, there was a witch and a knight. They loved each other, and that love led to their deaths. But that death was not permanent, because they were born again, loved again, and died again. And again. And again. And again. Because on the isle, stories are as real and as repetitive as the turn of a wheel. And on the isle, stories are not just stories–they are the lifeblood of the country, running their course over and over to power the very land and its inhabitants.
Vina is the newest incarnation of the knight. That was a bit of a surprise to anyone, given that she’s the mixed-race daughter of a nobleman and not the expected white man the knight has been in lives past, but she seems no less doomed despite this unexpected development. Raised with the knowledge that her duty is to die in service of powering her tragic tale, Vina has spent her life so far haunted by the weeping spectre of her past life and the knowledge that the same fate awaits her.
Simran is a witch. Born Elsewhere, far from the shores of the isle, she was sucked into the tale when her family sought refuge on the isle. Unlike Vina, raised in the queen’s court among other incarnates of stories, Simran has carved out a life for herself in London as a scribe of magical tattoos whose application can imbue the wearer with power–for a price.
When Simran’s theft of more tattoo ink causes the two women to finally cross paths, they feel the fated coils of their tragic story begin to tighten. But it’s not just their inevitable doom that brings the threat of danger near: there’s also a mysterious assassin targeting incarnates like them. Can the two women find a way to survive when breaking out of their doomed cycle might mean breaking the world?
Tasha Suri’s newest fantasy novel was like absolute catnip for me. I love a good story about the power of stories–not merely the power to entertain or bring people together, but also as forces of propaganda and control–and The Isle in the Silver Sea delivered this in absolute spades. It’s a love story, yes, but it’s also about imperialism, immigration, and the evils of monarchy and those who would bend the world to their vision against the tides of time and progress.
I was fascinated by every detail of the world that Suri has constructed. The isle is a patchwork of tales and myths, but also clashing time periods and intentional anachronisms, the medieval and the Tudor bumping up against each other. A witch’s gown might be decorated with sequins while molly houses might be home to characters who use more contemporary language for their gender and sexuality. Having previously read other works by Suri such as Empire of Sand and What Souls Are Made Of, I was aware of her ability to write novels grounded in a specific time period, but The Isle in the Silver Sea opts for a different approach to world-building, every crack in the carefully preserved world illustrating the unnatural rigidity of the isle.
There are also a lot of easter eggs for those with knowledge of British history and folklore that I delighted in putting together. For instance, the unnamed queen of the isle–red-haired, pale-faced, unmarried, and referred to once as “Gloriana”–is likely a version of Queen Elizabeth I, and her spymaster is probably inspired by the real historical figure Francis Walsingham. The way that Suri takes British history and entwines it with folklore and mythology was absolutely masterful. (Also, not to get into spoilers, but this novel has one of the most interesting takes on King Arthur I’ve seen in recent media.) The Isle in the Silver Sea doesn’t just use British myth and history as set dressing for world-building, but actively interrogates the nationalism and control at the heart of this fictional version of Britain.
While I wouldn’t consider The Isle in the Silver Sea to be romantasy, it’s very much a love story. Vina and Simran know that any love between them is the first step towards their deaths, but they still find a connection growing between them during their quest. Growing up in the shadow of a tragic fate has affected them differently, but also enables them to understand each other on a deep level. Simran sees through the the surface-level jokester persona that Vina puts on to disguise a deep-seated belief that her inevitable fate of murder-suicide means she isn’t worth love and care. Vina, on the other hand, understands Simran’s outward prickliness as a defense mechanism and sees past that to deep love and devotion that Simran is capable of, even if it might manifest as pushing others away for their own safety. While Simran and Vina’s romance is at the heart of the novel, there’s also the love of family blood and chosen, of loyal friends, of the bonds of community. The Isle in the Silver Sea also relishes the opportunity to explore the way reincarnation can deeply tangle the web of relationships it initially sets forth, including some developments I found as delightful as they were unexpected.
I could go on listing everything I loved about The Isle in the Silver Sea (the cat! the beast! the exploration of oral versus written storytelling!), but we’d probably be here all day. Instead, I’ll just end by saying that this novel cemented my opinion that Tasha Suri is a true star of modern fantasy literature and I’m in awe of her ability to craft stories that are as vividly fantastical as they are sharply insightful.
Content warnings: death (murder and suicide), imperialism, imprisonment, xenophobia
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