Hawk and Sparrow by Ayana Gray:
4 stars
An exclusive exhibition ends in murder, and a man with the means, motive, and opportunity to have pulled it off—a man Vesper Evans accused of having done the job—wants to hire her to prove his innocence. Naturally, she declines…until the Globe, the beloved newspaper that gave her a job, a home, and a family, needs money fast. Money, at least, is one thing Maximilian Kite does not lack. Investigating a murder, however, is not the safest of pursuits, and the killer quickly identifies Vesper as a definite problem.
Hawk and Sparrow charms from its first page, establishing a world similar to Victorian England, yet distinctly its own—where magic wielders and varying cultures collide in a frenzy of sparks. Emerging technologies and industries add to the friction, as do social standing and traditional gender roles.
Vesper is a wonderful main character, but Kite rather steals the show. While not instantly lovable, he endears himself, not despite his many flaws but largely because of them. Tom and Stettner help create a feeling of history and connection, yet emphasize Vesper’s isolation. That she and Kite identify with each other feels inevitable.
Vesper’s ability to navigate this powder keg so easily, however, even with Kite’s help, is a little unrealistic. Though she’s received an education of sorts, more than her mode of dress would likely separate her from the elite. It’s also a bit of a stretch to believe that she and her client are only nineteen and twenty—not impossible, but fairly extraordinary in itself. They give the impression of being some years older.
The mystery is an intriguing puzzle, and though there are a few subtle indications as to who the perpetrator is, this is not one the reader can deduce with any reasonable amount of certainty. A progression of skills mentioned near the end seems to suggest that the starting point, seen earlier in the story, was a potential clue, but that specific progression is not intuitive. The skills themselves require very different lines of study.
That said, the puzzle did not disappoint; there were multiple lines of pursuit, several quite compelling. Despite being the man of the hour, Frances Gladwell was not universally popular. I do love a story that keeps me guessing.
Hawk and Sparrow is a solid, teen-appropriate tale with mystery, danger, a little romance (no spice), a rather elegant approach to magic, and feminist themes borrowing from time periods where anything approaching equality was still quite some distance off. This world has room to grow and, should it become a series, might prove very exciting.
Thank you, Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group, for the opportunity to read Hawk and Sparrow. I received a complimentary copy through NetGalley, and I am voluntarily writing this review.