The Boi of Feather and Steel
The Boi of Feather and Steel
Sweat glistened on their forehead and their muscles ached, but Tav was wide awake. The taste of euphoria and the smell of blood and grass flooded their senses. They had done it. They had opened a door between worlds. Not a wound, but a channel. They could feel in their shoulder blades the magic of the City of Eyes touching the human world, casting warmth and light over them. They could feel the tumultuous mix of human emotions reaching out to the witches’ realm of magic and chaos.
Is this how symbiosis worked? Is this how worlds kept one another alive?
Tav had done it. Tav, with the “bad attitude” and straight As that would never pay for college, a part-time job at the gas station and fistfights in dive bars.
The euphoria faded and Tav looked away from the door back down to the dirt: round silver glasses in a pool of blood: Eli.
The first book in the duology, The Girl of Hawthorn and Glass, follows Eli, a created assassin, designed by the Coven to carry out missions on earth. But when Eli uncovers some darker truths about her targets, she teams up with others on earth to fight back against the Coven. One of these individuals is Tav. A Boi of Feathers and Steel focuses more on Tav—a Black, queer, nonbinary, purple-haired human with magical abilities—and their quest to work with Eli, a boy made of stone named Cam, and a few others to heal the wounds between worlds created by the Coven. Meanwhile, the Witch Lord’s progeny, Kite, is working with an army of child witches to destroy the Coven. Nobody is safe as the battle rages between the worlds, and there is no way to know who will survive.
The opening chapters dive in immediately to where the previous book left off, delivering a fast-paced opening to pull readers into the story. Unfortunately, after the first few chapters, things become a bit fuzzy where the revenge plot is concerned, and the focus shifts to internalized angst and frustration, with many chapters dedicated to description and anticipation. This shift does allow for better understanding of character motivation, but it also causes clunky pacing throughout the book which may cause some readers to become less interested overall.
The worldbuilding is also somewhat unclear, giving the impression that most of the events taking place are surrounded by a haze. Additionally, some of the more elaborate descriptions—whether related to fight scenes, body transfiguration, settings, etc.—become confusing, making it hard to create a full mental picture of characters, locations, and events. The language used is often quite beautiful and full of description, and perhaps the fluidity of some characters and settings is actually purposeful to some degree. Perhaps the author is attempting to mirror the complex language of magical realism which is intentional in its creation of discomfort and confusing elements. But where magical realism often has a purpose for creating these feelings, The Boi of Feather and Steel does not quite reach those moments of clarity. All that being said, the overall worldbuilding is more consistent in this installment than in the first book.
The found family component of the novel was perhaps the most compelling, exploring how people (and in this case, some creatures) can create bonds that allow them to thrive, even while the world often fails to understand and care for them. Tav, with their intersectional queer/Black/nonbinary/magical identity, is a target not only for the police and other authorities on earth, but also for the Coven and other magical beings, such as the hedge-witch. Feeling out of place, and literally sometimes disappearing against her will, Eli is a created being who needs a connection with others in order to feel safe and needed within the world. And Kite is in a similar situation, plotting to overthrow her own mother and take down the system that created her, while searching for Eli, the one individual with whom she had a real connection. Their need for a found family brings them all together in ways they could never have imagined.
With each character given a lot of space within the narrative to explore their motivations, and with much of the text dedicated to exploring revenge fantasies, the author gives the impression that all is leading toward an epic battle. However, what ends up happening is rather anticlimactic, even as the ending does fulfill the direction of the narrative arc.
The Boi of Feather and Steel, even with the plot and structure issues noted above, is a compelling narrative that mirrors the need for found family and connection many in the LGBTQ+ community seek and construct as they fight back against forces of oppression and discrimination. In many ways, this book serves as an extended metaphor for queer/trans community-building and fighting for systemic change.
The diverse cast of characters, magical elements, and engaging plot in The Boi of Feather and Steel will be sure to hook a variety of readers, regardless of issues with some larger structural elements.
Rob Bittner has a PhD in Gender, Sexuality, and Women’s Studies (Simon Fraser University) and is also a graduate of the MA in Children’s Literature program at The University of British Columbia in Vancouver, British Columbia. He loves reading a wide range of literature but particularly stories with diverse depictions of gender and sexuality.