It's a fantastic depiction (as far as a man can tell) of the hardships women face. It's not a new topic, but it's so well done here that it still feels fresh and makes the whole book. We see a lot of woman characters, and each of them is a whole story. They end up very different (and all extremely likable) as they handle their challenges differently.

Or maybe I'm wrong about this? We don't learn anything about the past of the dust-wife or Agnes. We only see Marra's mother and Kania from a distance. I still feel like I know their story. This is the magic of brilliant characterization.

The writing is beautifully crafted. The dialogs are all amazing. Every line feels completely unpredictable and yet spot-on for the character. The pacing is great. Every little bit of detail is used in some way to say something interesting. For example, Marra's faith has little bearing on the story, but we learn this:

"We're a mystery religion," said the abbess, when she'd had a bit more wine than usual, "for people who have too much work to do to bother with mysteries. So we simply get along as best we can. Occasionally someone has a vision, but [Our Lady of Grackles] doesn't seem to want anything much, and so we try to return the favor."

Or the excellent conversation on chopping wood.

"It's all right," he said. "I've done many things that were terribly important, lives hanging in the balance and so on and so forth. There is something pleasant about chopping wood. If I miss a stroke, nothing awful happens. If a piece of wood is not quite right, it will still burn. If I stack it and it isn't perfect, clans will not fall."

Fenris is a curious character. It's gracious to include a good man in the cast, when the evil of men is a core theme. And he's really a perfect role model. But he's too perfect. He has no struggles, or at least his struggles are not the topic of this book, and he knows it. And his good nature may not be nature at all — it may be a blessing from his godmother. It's impossible not to love him anyway.

All the threads are satisfyingly joined at the end. I guess that's is relatively easy in this world. It's a sort of magical realism. Most of the world is non-magical, but the magic is very unpredictable and strong when it comes. It has no rules at all for the writer. Anything goes. But we still get satisfying consistency when we feel like we're starting to learn the rules. This version of magic felt fresh and entertaining.

My only gripe is with the references to opening the lids of jars. It struck me as a modern problem. Can jars have twisting lids in a fantasy setting? It feels like you would need factories for that.

It's a dangerous and sometimes dark story, but everyone survives! I love happy endings!