No one can ever accuse Jo Walton of writing to the common denominator. I can't comment on the wide appeal of this engrossing and beautifully written book, but I am the ideal reader for it, familiar with the Shakespearean background for it and both tolerant and appreciative of metafiction. I will admit that even this reader found it slow to get going. Actually, that's not completely true. It starts wonderfully, but then it comes to a dead halt with a lot of historical background for about three chapters or more. I was determined, and persevered, and was ultimately rewarded. Once it does get going, it's a fascinating exploration of art, writing, creativity, reading, Florence (and all its delights) and life itself. I loved it.

Jo Walton has written a solid and engrossing page turner of a read with Or What You Will! Well worth your time.

Or What You Will blew me away from the very first page. The last time I got this excited over the first paragraphs of a book was when I read The Ten Thousand Doors of January, which ended up being my favorite book of 2019. My pulse actually sped up as I read, and I had to stop and go back and reread those first few paragraphs because they were just so gorgeous. I had read passages to my husband and frantically text my fellow Novel Notions besties about how excited I was before I even finished that first chapter. And I continued to deeply appreciate the writing all the way through, and highlighted and annotated an incredible number of passages. But after such a wonderful beginning, things went from beautiful literary fiction to an unexpected accounting of the art scene of Renaissance Florence. I mean, I have no problem at all with the topic but that shift came out of nowhere. I would say it was jarring if the air of the novel wasn’t so meandering. And then there were a ton of Shakespearean characters added into the mix, which was surprising. But the book never really came back to what I loved so much in those first few pages, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was incredibly disappointed by that decision on Walton’s part.

This is a book that doesn’t hold your hand. Walton expects readers to be familiar with certain histories and literary works and, if they flounder, that’s not really her problem, is it? I would strongly advice anyone interested in reading this book who has no Shakespearean exposure to at least find summaries of Twelfth Night and The Tempest and read those before diving into Or What You Will. There are micro-sequels to both plays in the pages of this book, and those will make far more sense if you have an idea of what said plays are about and who their characters are. Said sequels also tie the two plays together in interesting ways. I love the idea of these tales continuing on after the curtain closes, and I love even more the idea of those stories continuing on in a world parallel to ours where magic is real and the Renaissance never ended. But these well worn characters underwent little new development in my opinion, regardless of their near eternal life in this magical world. They continued on without really moving forward, though I feel that might have been the point.

The concept of telling a story from a fictional character’s perspective while they’re inside their author’s head and aware of that fact is an interesting one. As is this eternal, magical Renaissance in a Florence populated with Shakespearean casts and real, historical artists and scholars. Both stories had promise but, in my opinion, mixed about as well as oil and water. There was a lack of continuity that was distracting every time the story flipped from the real world to the fictional world. Sylvia, who is the author of the fictional world and whose mind is the dwelling place of the nameless narrator, has a very interesting back story. But I felt that her story and the book she was writing never did fully cohere, despite that being the point of the novel.

This book is one of the most meta, experimental novels I’ve read in recent memory. The ideas were wonderful, and the narrative went in enough different directions to make heads spin. But the amount of fourth-wall breaking and self commentary came across as self-indulgent instead of endearing. The book was brief, at little more than 300 pages, but it felt exhaustingly labyrinthine. The writing was exquisite and the ideas unique, but I had a hard time making myself pick this little book up. I also found myself disappointed in the ending. While the entire book was building toward a particular outcome, that final scene was so brief as to feel woefully abridged and ultimately unsatisfying. However, the quality of the writing and the social commentary woven into the narrative about the fantasy genre and religion and the world as a whole saved the book for me. I enjoyed having a chance to peer so deeply into the mind of both the author of this book and the author in the book.
I’m sure Or What You Will shall become a new favorite for many, and I deeply regret that I’m not part of that number. However, I look forward to trying more of Walton’s work, as she is a brilliant wordsmith whose prose I can’t wait to sample again. Even though I didn’t love this particular story, I deeply respect what Walton both attempted and was able to do in the writing of it. Hopefully I’ll find a book or multiple books in her catalogue that will ring as true to me as Sylvia’s books did for her fictitious fanbase in this novel.

I love Jo Walton’s books. I first encountered her in 2013, when I checked Among Others out from the library - I knew it had won the Hugo and the Nebula Awards and I I wanted to check it out. I was in love with this book. I loved the protagonist and I loved the magic. I remember reading through the section on how the narrator thought she had used magic to conjure up the book club at the library and then I turn the page and found a bookmark that some previous reader had left in this library book I was reading. The bookmark turned out to be a torn our page from her day calendar. The day of the calendar page was the day of my first child’s birth. this only made the book feel more magical.

So when My Real Children came out, I borrowed from the library and I also loved it. And then I found out about her Thessaly books. As a lapsed classicist who loves robots, time travel, and Greek mythology, this seemed like the perfect book for me. And it was! I devoured the series and was thrilled to be able to meet Ms. Walton at a bookstore in Brooklyn for her book tour of the third volume, during which I got her to sign all three books in the series.

I thought that her novel, Lent, that came out last year, was brilliant. A delightful subversion of my expectations that turned into a fantastic time travel tale.

So I was thrilled beyond belief when Tor and NetGalley gave me an eARC of her newest book, Or What You Will. I loved it, like I loved all of her other books, but I’m not quite sure that I got it. The book jumps back-and-forth between the life of an aging author who is dying of cancer, a fictional character of hers who is seemingly alive while in her head, and a fictional world that she created based on renaissance Florence.

The writing styles for each of the sections is completely different, and sometimes feels like they belong in different books. This is evidence of her mastery of her craft, but often felt jarring to me when there was a section switch. Far and away the most riveting sections were the least fantastical — I would have read an entire series of novels solely based on the mundane life of the author in Canada. honestly, the sections in her fictional fantasy world felt like they dragged a little bit; perhaps it is because I don’t appreciate all of her references to the works of Shakespeare. Don’t get me wrong, I loved this book. They only dragged relative to the way the other sections completely flew by. The book’s ultimate conclusion felt a little bit anti-climatic. I’m going to have to read this book again because I feel like I went through it so quickly that I missed some of the nuance.

I loved this book. For whatever reasons, I may not have loved this book as much as every other book of Jo Walton’s that I have read. But I loved it nevertheless and I eagerly look forward to whatever inventive meta-fictional tale she spins next.

Or What You Will is a deep and imaginative look at the nature of storytelling and the relationship between author, idea and story. More literary magically realism than fantasy this is a very academic book that will make you think.

Thank you to Tor for giving me a free digital galley of 'Or What You Will' in exchange for feedback.

I... have no idea how to write a review of this book. It isn't like anything I've read before, and I'm still not sure what to make of it. So here are a few of my disorganized thoughts.

Is it my imagination, or is every book Jo Walton writes stranger than the one before? This book folds in on itself so many times it's practically origami. If she writes another book I'll be cautious about opening it, because it' probably going to be an empty book cover opening onto a gateway to an enchanted library full of gods or something.

Jo Walton reads voraciously, and she writes for an audience who reads the way she does. If you haven't read "The Tempest," "Twelfth Night," some history of the Italian Renaissance, and a significant amount of science fiction and fantasy, I'm not sure that you'll be able to follow this book - or at least, you'll lose a lot of layers.

I may also have lost some layers. I read voraciously, but Walton and I have only partially overlapping interests.

It's a little like 'Among Others,' and also completely different.

Seriously, you could build a PhD program simply on understanding all the references in this book. At least one. Make a list of the books used to build this one, and you're looking at a decade of reading. A hard decade of reading.

Was this a novel? A reflection on the writing life? A fictionalized time-traveling autobiography? An alternate history? I don't even know.

The final sentences made me grin, though I should have seen them coming.

An author that grew more and more on me. I was sure she was a man but recently realize she was a women, not that it change anything but... Anyway a book and an author worth discovering!

This was fantastic. Even though all I really had going for me for reference was having seen Twelfth Night last year, I liked that Walton drew on multiple Shakespeare plays, as well as her love of Florence, as inspiration for this novel. I enjoyed being drawn through different layers of narration by Sylvia and her muse. A well-executed, thoroughly satisfying read!

I always preferred Joe Walton's plots to her writing. This time I have to admit that I really liked the "meta-book" she wrote, probably wrong definition among other things, although it was sometimes difficult to read, with many (too many at times) characters caught by Shakespeare, the history of Renaissance Florence and other various characters from other fantasy books. Probably though, it would have been better to read "Lent" first.

Ho sempre preferito le trame di Joe Walton alla sua scrittura. Stavolta devo ammettere che il metalibro che ha scritto, definizione tra l'altro probabilmente errata, mi é piaciuto molto, nonostante sia stato a volte difficile da leggere, con tanti (troppi a volte) personaggi pescati da Shakespeare, la storia della Firenze rinascimentale e altri vari personaggi di libri fantasy. Probabilmente peró, sarebbe stato meglio leggere prima Lent.

THANKS NETGALLEY FOR THE PREVIEW!

I was going to make a dumb joke - something about how I've only gotten to the forty-sixth page, and is it worth it to continue?? - but man, I loved this book too damn much to make that joke (completely). It charmed the pants off me almost from the jump: that first act of the book was, in my opinion, such a gorgeous ode to reading and writing and creativity that it made me tear up at points. And if I have some quibbles with the later parts of the book (basically that I was so in love with Sylvia and the narrator that I would've rather spent more time with them in Metaland (or Florence!) than listening to a few back and forth conversations in Thalia) it's easy to overlook them when I think about how warm this book made me feel. There's a lot of playfulness here, as well as a quality to the writing that I can really only describe as comforting. Even when the book goes into darker places there's this sense of a hand holding yours, guiding you through. Walton at her best - and make no mistake this is Walton at her best - is always somehow able to bring this glowing tenor to even the most minute, everyday of details. And because this is a book that brims over with such details it made it that much more of a pleasure to read. Every reader's reader would enjoy this, I think. And if you're already a Walton fan your enjoyment is probably already a given. As for me, I think this stands as one of my absolute favorite of her books, and I'll definitely be getting my own copy when it's published.

The problem with very clever people is that they can be too clever by half. And the problem with really good writers is that they can become self-indulgent.

This book shows both those faults; it's metatextual and postmodern in a way that reminded me of John Barth (which, for me, is not a good thing). However, unlike Barth's plotless and inconclusive ramblings, it does have a reasonably complete arc (though the ending felt rushed), and I ultimately enjoyed it as well as respecting the level of craft on display.

The other main fault it has is taking left-over research from the author's previous book (<i>Lent</i>, set in Renaissance Florence) and presenting it as out-and-out infodumps direct to the reader from the narrator. The fact that they are interesting infodumps just saves them; for me, the same couldn't always be said for the extended descriptions of incidental parts of the setting.

The central conceit is that an author's muse/daemon/imaginary friend is trying to get her into her fictional world, because (we learn partway through) she's dying in the real world, and in the fictional world, people only die if they want to or if someone murders them.

The author character, Sylvia, is not (as I initially thought) the actual author of the book; she's about 20 years older than Jo Walton, and a Canadian of Irish descent rather than a Welshwoman. But part of the reason I thought she might be Jo Walton was the echoes of the previous Jo Walton book I'd read, <i>Among Others</i>, which is a fictionalization of Walton's adolescence. Both Mori in the latter book and Sylvia in this one have terrible, emotionally abusive mothers, and just as Mori refers to doing both parts of the dialog with the fairies (leading us to wonder if they're real or imaginary), the long-unnamed narrator daemon talks about Sylvia claiming that she used to do that with him.

There are several main strands to the book. One is the sequel to the fictional author's first series that the daemon instigates to provide her with a place of refuge; it's based on characters from Twelfth Night and The Tempest, and set in a largely Shakespearean version of Florence, but it also includes some historical figures and extra speculative elements. Another is the story of Sylvia's life, her abusive mother, her abusive first husband, her much-missed second husband, the decisions she made and the crises she had along the way that made her who she is. Then there are the daemon's metafictional maneuverings, which stitch the other two strands together, along with a generous helping of Fun Fiorenze Facts.

Like her Renaissance heroes, Walton has attempted something daring and difficult with great skill, and I feel she's largely pulled it off, though for me it wasn't an unqualified success. If you hate metafiction, or if infodumps (even interesting ones) put you off, this is not the book for you. But it shows emotional strength, keen observation of humanity, and a great love for both a place and a time, which largely make up for any flaws as far as I'm concerned.

This is so unbelievably my kind of meta and retelling that I’m having difficulty finding words for it, and how much I love what Walton has done here. Telling you what this is technically a retelling of is a big enough spoiler that I won’t say it, but the bricks of it are laid early on. This feels like a book I’m probably going to end up going back to again, just to marvel at how it all comes together. And centering the story on the author (going to use her name to avoid confusion, Sylvia)’s muse and co-conspirator makes the telling of the story to ensure she won’t die, and the telling of the author’s story herself that much more intriguing. Yes, there is a book in a book. Yes, our narrator has no name. Yes, there is gratuitous Shakespeare. But the way that ideas Sylvia had at the beginning of her writing career are interrogated and eventually change in the world she’s made feels like Walton being open about her own growth as a writer. And the way the book in a book unfolds in parallel to us learning Sylvia’s story is extremely well done and highlights things about Sylvia herself. The love for Florence shines through brilliantly too. I wasn’t sure what I was getting into when I started this, but this feels like a masterwork in the best way. Get this when it comes out.

What happens to the worlds and characters created by an author when that author dies?

Sylvia is an experienced sci-fi/fantasy novelist, quite well known and active in the SF/F community. The other main character is the unnamed narrator who lives in her head and has served as her muse for much of Sylvia's life, acting as characters in her books. Sylvia has cancer, and the narrator is deeply concerned. After all, if Sylvia dies, he dies too. As she returns to the fantasy world she created once ago, inspired by Renaissance Italy, the narrator worms into it, hoping to transport both himself and Sylvia there.

This is a sweet ode about books and stories and imagined worlds and Italy. Because this is a book about stories, it reminded me a lot of Walton's Among Others, but it has a very different feel. It goes very, very meta with two main settings: the present day where Sylvia is trying to write a book, and the book that Sylvia is writing, which is set in a version of Shakespeare's Illyria.

The book is also a gem with many hidden gems. The title is one: it's taken directly from the full name of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. How much you'll discover depends on how familiar you are with sci-fi/fantasy, Twelfth Night and The Tempest, and the writings of Pico della Mirandola (namely Oration on the Dignity of Man), but these aren't required. I haven't read Pico for 15 years, hardly remember it, and did fine (though this book is making a reread sound a treat).

Walton's books always take me in unexpected directions even when I read the book copy. This is another one that surprised me pleasantly. It has a plot arc, but large chunks of it have a very slice-of-life feel and others have more of a multi-causal network, which may be frustrating for readers who expect something else. I tried to enjoy this like a cup of gelato—savoring every bite.

If I had to complain, there are too many characters here with whom I wanted more time. I desperately wanted to see more of the complex relationship among Orsino, Olivia, Viola, and Sebastian. I wanted more time with Tish and Dolly. I'd have loved to see more of Miranda and Caliban. But maybe it also says something about imagined worlds and stories when we don't get enough time with these characters.

An interesting book concept that got bogged down in execution, I didn't manage to finish it. The interludes into historical stories just didn't work for me, even though I could see what it was getting at with them. I was hooked in the first chapter, but I just couldn't hang onto the dipping into other stories.

You can always count on Walton for the finer kinds of cerebral fantasy and this is no exception. I've been a fan of hers for years and while this is not my favourite of her works, it's still deeply immersive, engaging and intelligent. A love letter to reading (and writing!) If you're a newcomer to fantasy you may find this a little off putting - and this may not be the Walton book to start with; Tooth and Claw might be a better bet. However if you're a wide reader both in and out of fantasy, this is for you. Highly recommend for those who like warm, thinking fantasy which hinges on tension and nuance rather than pure action and conflict.

I have never read this author before, so this is my first experience with her although I have heard so much about her that I've been wanting to try her for a while. This book immediately sucked me in, the writing between Sylvia and her character is lovely, and the author is truly gifted. In a short amount of time I fell in love with the character and Sylvia, the sign of a good writer.

Then we started to get more into the Illyria side of things and I found it more of a struggle to get through. I didn't enjoy that side of the story as much, although I know why it was necessary, those chapters just dragged.

I think overall the book is brilliant, and a powerful love story to books. It kept me thinking about it for a while after I closed it, but I just wish I could have spent more time with Sylvia and a little less in Illyria.

I am definitely intrigued by this author and will read more.

This book gets meta very fast, and it took me a while to get used to the structure. Once I got into it, I found it to be pretty enjoyable, a mostly fun story with some depth and darkness. But to be honest, the concept didn't really work for me, as it could be jarring and the logic of the different worlds didn't always make sense.

This heavily meta-conceptual novel is divided into two kinds of narration: a second/third-person narration by an author's imaginary friend/alter ego/internal voice, and a fantasy novel, drawing heavily on Shakespeare, that the author is writing during the timeframe of the book. I enjoyed the imaginary friend narrative a lot--it's engaging and different and a pleasure to read. It is full of fun and quirky and useful references to other books and written works. But the other half--the Shakespeare-influenced world in which Miranda has sons with both Caliban and Ferdinand (Called Ferrante) and in which visitors from the "real world" drop in and in which technological progress has been halted in exchange for an end to death--rapidly became too pedantic, much like Walton's Thessaly novels. So this is very much a mixed bag for me.

I was sent a copy of this book by Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!
This book is not what you think it is.
Beginning with a strange stream-of-consciousness spiel from a self-proclaimed unreliable narrator/imaginary friend and transitioning into a strange fantasy world and back, Or What You Will takes our narrow definition of fantasy literature and speculative fiction and pulls on it until it twists. Perfect for a rainy day (or a day in quarantine). I highly recommend it.

This is not a book for beginners. I hate saying that, because it’s super patronizing - Malazan devotees, I’m looking at you - but I kinda have to on this one. Not because it expects you to remember a zillion details and characters (there’s about half a dozen of significance) but because this is a book that assumes you are a serious, *serious* reader. If you haven’t read a ton of books, especially fantasy books, there’s a lot that you’re going to miss. If you aren’t interested in the craft of writing, then this book is probably going to be boring. If you’re not at least vaguely familiar with *The Tempest* and *Twelfth Night*, you’re going to not understand a ton of things - Walton doesn’t feel the need to explain to the reader who Orsini and Miranda are. But if you love hearing authors talk about their experiences and influences, if you love reading rough cuts and early drafts, and if books have been your constant companion for your entire life - then there’s a good chance you’ll love this book.

There are two principal characters. One is Sylvia, an aging fantasy writer, acclaimed within the SF/F fandom community but not particularly known outside of it. I’m thinking like Robin Hobb-level. The kind of writer, at the point in her life she’s at, might well get named a Damon Knight Grand Master. (I’m not trying to gatekeep here - I’m really not - but knowing what the Damon Knight Grand Master award is may well be a good barometer for how much you’ll appreciate this book.) The other principal character, who serves as the narrator, lives in Sylvia’s head. He has no name, but he’s been Sylvia’s muse and inspiration for her entire life. Nearly every book she’s written, he’s one of the characters. Not in a Hoid from the Cosmere sense, but he’s always been *inside* one of the characters. Hero, villain, side character, important-character-who-only-shows-up-briefly-but-looms-large, even a dragon - he’s been them all.

As the book begins, Sylvia is trying to write a book without him (“I’m worried you’re getting stale”) but generally failing because he keeps worming his way in. She’s also dying of cancer, which has the narrator frightened both because he loves her, and because without her he’ll die too.

The book revolves around Sylvia revisiting Ilyria, one of her earlier worlds, a world where immortality is possible (thanks to the heroic efforts of one of the earlier embodiments of the narrator). He’s trying to convince her to go to Ilyria before she dies, so they can keep living, and he can exist outside of her. What happens is a very meta story-about-stories, where we learn about Sylvia’s life at the same time she’s trying to write this new book, her final book, and the narrator’s attempts to steer things so that the two come together (after convincing her that it’s possible at all, that Ilyria is real in a way she can go to).

The parts about Sylvia’s life feel very autobiographical. I don’t know if it is or not - this is my first Jo Walton book, and I don’t know anything about her personal life - but I have no doubt that even if the details have been changed, she poured a great deal of herself into this book.

This was an ARC, so it’s not going to be generally available for a few months. I’m going to be waiting impatiently for it to come out, because I’m pretty certain I’m going to be chewing on this for the entire time. I want someone to talk about it with. This wasn’t a conventional read for me, but I greatly enjoyed it.