A star is born in this story of Luli Wei, an ambitious girl who becomes enthralled by cinema. Vo's writing is amazing, somehow the fantastic elements make the truth of the history of the Hollywood studios even more clear. Every word is well chosen, the language descriptive but always true to her characters. A coming of age story that encompasses race, sexuality and the danger and sacrifices necessary to ambition, but with what may be another of Vo's trademarks, a silver lining. Highly recommend.

“The magic of movie-making”: we’ve all heard people say and write things about Hollywood that sprinkle stardust and the otherworldly metaphors onto filmmaking. In Siren Queen, Nghi Vo asks readers to consider what if it wasn’t actually metaphorical? A clever novel that follows the career of screen star Luli Wei, I enjoyed this.

We meet Luli Wei as a child, and at roughly the same time as when she discovers and falls in love with the idea of becoming a Hollywood star. After a series of fortuitous events, she is taken under the wing of a director, and slowly introduced to the world of movie-making: glamour, hard work, the magical, and also the lurking horror underneath. This horror is acknowledged by everyone involved, albeit in veiled comments. Herein lies of one of the best things about Siren Queen: Vo’s taken so many of the traditional metaphors we use to discuss, describe and admire the business, but made it so that they’re not metaphors. Sell your soul for success? Sure. Suck the life out of you? Quite possibly. It’s a fantastic element, and the author does a great job of weaving into the setting that is a few degrees from our own.

The otherworldly is not overbearing, and often only manifests in small ways (a lot happens off-screen, as it were). It is not, however, the primary thrust of the story. That is Luli and her experiences: her life, her loves, her work, and more. There’s plenty of commentary on the hypocrisies and prejudices of the movie industry (many of which continue to manifest and/or echo today).

… we understood immortality as a thing for men. Men lived forever in their bodies, in their statues, in the words they guarded jealously and the countries they would never let you claim. The immortality of women was a sideways thing, haphazard and contained in footnotes, as muses or silent helpers.

Luli has a number of obstacles in the way of her becoming the star she wants to become: she’s a woman, she’s of Asian descent, and she’s not straight. Nevertheless, she knows what she wants, and manages to chip away at these as obstacles, forging her own path towards success. It’s a difficult and rocky road, to be sure. Luli is determined to break the mould for actors like her, to not conform to the tired and limited stereotypes and typecasting that she might have been destined to suffer. Interestingly, it takes her down an unexpected path to monster and horror pictures.

“No maids, no funny talking, no fainting flowers,” I said. “That’s the deal I struck with Wolfe, and so I guess monster was what was left.”

Over the course of the story, Luli meets a number of people, some in the same predicament, others unwitting or indifferent members of the Hollywood ecosystem. Vo shows readers the camaraderie that can form between those who aren’t at the top of the heap; similarly, the petty jealousies and sometimes manufactured fights that can trip up the unwary. It’s all told in a fluid, engaging style — the novel is well-balanced, and aside from some minor moments that dipped in momentum, I always looked forward to picking up and continuing to follow Luli’s story.

Siren Queen is a fantastic blend of a novel: a classic story of Golden Age Hollywood ambition, told through an urban fantasy/horror lens. If you’re looking for something a little different, then I’d certainly recommend checking this out.

Luli Wei was overlooked by the masses until she made it impossible to look away. After striking a brutal bargain to achieve her dreams, Wei finds her home on the silver screen. What follows is a mesmerizing (and hair-raising) coming of age tale about Luli’s rise into the spotlight.

Nghi Vo’s Old Hollywood is painted with a dreamlike brush. There’s a phantasmagoric haze over every event and every interaction. It’s mesmerizing and disturbing in equal measure. And, as impressed as I was with the tone and prose – I struggled to stay invested in Luli’s story as I found it a bit overstuffed and all over the place. Others will surely love this, but it was not quite my cup of tea when all was said and done.

I've read all of Nghi Vo's books and her writing is absolutely stunning. In that sense, this book is no exception! I love the research she puts into it. As a Chinese American woman, I especially appreciated the references to the Chinese Exclusion Act and the way the main character feels alienated because of how she's treated. And the casual magic only enhances the beauty and atmosphere of the story.

All that being said...AGHHH I'm so sad to be giving this book a less-than-stellar review. While all of the above is true, this book wandered too much for my tastes. I found myself confused quite often and unsure of who or what in the storyline to care about and I almost DNFd it partway through. I thought the story would at least resolve in an interesting way. Instead, the whole thing felt to me like a string of vignettes with no direction, and the ending felt more like falling off the page than anything particularly satisfying.

I think, in part, it may be because film and the life of movie stars has never particularly interested me. Plus, I'm at full-term pregnancy and my brain has been foggy as of late, so it's possible this book just went over my head. I'm still a huge fan of Nghi Vo and her lush writing and will read her future books for sure! I think I just connect better with her novellas than her novels.

That was a fascinating book. Part fantasy, part noir, it read like a Hollywood Hazel Wood where there is a Wild Hunt, silver kisses of protection, bargains of vanity for things more precious, and names contain power and dolls can be your stand in. Monsters are real but who are they? 3.5 stars

Absolutely intrigued from the very beginning. Nghi Vo created a stunning page turner that kept me reading well past midnight.

4.5 stars

“No maids,” I said, thrusting my chin up. “No funny talking, no fainting flowers.”

With these words, Luli begins a journey of self-definition in the landscape of 1930’s Hollywood, where sacrifice and brutality become fundamental mechanisms of reinvention.

Luli Wei knows exactly what she wants and who she’s going to be. It’s just a matter of how she’ll get there.

The novel opens with a young, first-generation Chinese immigrant enchanted by the magic of American cinema. Descending from immortals brought down to the American Southwest, Luli aspires to greatness, determined to make a name for herself, even if it isn’t her own.
She embarks on her journey to stardom, resolved to overcome adversity of any kind. In the Hollywood of this world, the executives are the most brutal monsters of all, but Luli is no shrinking violet. The price of fame is hefty, and to have her way, she will fight fire with fire, meet old magic with old magic, and become the monster incarnate.

Siren Queen is an enchanted, alternative vision of the Golden Age of Hollywood that carves a space for the socially marginalized to have their stories known. The novel reminded me of The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, albeit with numerous creative departures and more blood magic and wolves. Vo’s story is beautifully written, her characters filled with a carnal hunger to belong and live peaceably and with absolute autonomy in their own narratives.

Siren Queen is a dream of a novel that balances destruction with hope, envisioning a future for queer and marginalized communities that is worth the annihilation of our most revered structures of power.

Thank you to Macmillan-Tor/Forge and NetGalley for this compelling read.

Thank you Netgalley and to the publisher for allowing me to read this one. Wow....I honestly don't really know what I've read in the most wonderful sense. I find that the author's work is so beautiful, magical and different that I am not entirely sure what exactly is happening in certain parts but it's so well written that I just go with it. I am a sucker for anything to do with the Golden Age of Hollywood and the start of the movie industry as we know it today. We think the scandal stories of contemporary stars as being wild....well...let me say that they have nothing on the OG stars! The difference was that the industry had the control to cover them up or leak them out depending on what direction they wanted a star to go in.

This power was used in cruel and exploitative ways at times as picture moguls were not accountable to anyone in those days. As usual , marginalised groups like lgbtqia*, POC and women were the main ones to suffer. What I loved about this novel was that Nghi Vo channeled this evil into creating a system of monsters that existed in light of day and fed upon the talent and dreams of these young ingenues willing to give up everything, including their souls for fame. It was such a clever approach to rethinking how power that these rich (mainly white) men corrupts and consumes.

At this time in Hollywood the stars could live their secret lives as long as they were willing to let the studios control their public narrative. There was a large lgbtqia community in Hollywood from the wardrobe departments, screenwriting rooms to the actors who appeared on screen. Queers had a heavy influence up until the time of censorship when they were vilified and expelled from the elite circles because of their sexuality. I HIGHLY recommend 'Behind the Screen: How Gays and Lesbians Shaped Hollywood, 1910-1969' by William J Mass for more reading about this topic. Also Google the actress Alla Nazimova and her 'Garden of Allah Hotel' which was home to some of the most outrageous gay and lesbian parties of the time...I'm telling you today's stars have nothing on some of these original stars!

Back to the book! I loved the flow of the writing and the mixture of magical realism with the story of a poor working class Asian family of that period. It was wonderful to have a determined female Asian protagonist with a clear idea of what she wanted. The fact that she is not willing to settle for the roles deemed worth of POC at that period is empowering. If she cannot be the traditional heroine then she wants to be the monster. Not the racial stereotype maid or beggar of the period. There were nearly no Asian lead actresses of that time and the main name would be the wonderful Anna May Wong.

I loved the queer subculture aspect of the book from the moment we enter the Pipeline bar and see femmes, butches and those in between relaxing in their own safe place. To the character of Tara who openly wore male clothing in a time where it was not accepted by society as a whole. The book is written as Luli looks back on her life and I really enjoyed the comments by Jane, who we never meet but we find out ends up being the love of Luli's life. Jane was most likely having her own similar struggles and battles at this period as an Asian female director.

Luli's struggles with her family and sister were real and were a part of that character. The scattering of magic even at that point of the book like the creepy soulless ghost dolls her mother makes of them that haunt the house was so fitting with it all but again just bizarre (I loved it!). I really adored this book for the homage it pays to an important period in entertainment culture and to all the queers that were a part of it. I feel this will be one of my top reads in 2022 and we are still in January!

Source of book: NetGalley (thank you)
Relevant disclaimers: none
Please note: This review may not be reproduced or quoted, in whole or in part, without explicit consent from the author.

I’ve been sitting on this review for a couple of days because … I … my feelings? This book absolutely stunned me. Like, when I think about it, I actually feel my heart speed up like I’ve just seen my beloved on the other side of the street. Siren Queen is just about one of the most perfect things I’ve ever been fortunate enough to read? It is, of course, like absolutely, overwhelmingly queer as fuck.

But I think what made it sever every single defensive tendon I possess in swift, sharp succession was that this is, above all else, an incredibly *kind* book. It is also, don’t get me wrong, a dark one. It’s set in a cruel world, where the vulnerable are easily exploited, and power comes at terrible cost. It has things to say about identity, about abuse, about alienation and about marginalisation. But the more I read the more I began to understand the profoundly compassionate place from which the author had drawn her characters: characters, by the way, who aren’t always presented with such empathy, whether it’s women who navigate their powerlessness through coldness, queer people who make self-protecting rather than courageous choices, tired old gay men whose lives have denied them any lasting sense of family, lesbians whose modes of self-expression leaves them outsiders in their own communities, or even ordinary boys who believe being beautiful is the only way to be loved. This is not, to say, by the way that these people live without suffering or remain unaffected in the world of the Siren Queen. I was legitimately terrified for them a lot of the time. It’s more that the book, like a lighthouse perched above what sometimes seems an utterly unforgiving ocean, still manages to guide all its lost children towards whatever shore feels most like home.

And that’s quite a motherfucking thing, you know? Dark books can be amazing, kind books are necessary. Books that are both dark and kind in ways that compromise neither the darkness nor the kindness? Rare to the point of miraculous.

ANYWAY. The actual book. Although I will just say that the premise is kind … kind of difficult to explain. Not because it’s complicated exactly. But because. Well. Here is a re-enactment of me attempting to tell a friend about it: “So it’s set in the Golden Ae of Hollywood but, like, the studio heads and all the men in positions power are monsters who exploit the dreams of the desperate. No, I mean, they’re really monsters. As in literal monsters. As in inhabited by weird fairy / demon creature monsters. Not just, y’know, monsters.”

There’s no getting away (especially post #metoo) just how very on the nose this is. The whole book is like that, to be honest, but it’s angels dancing on the head of a pin on the nose: so absolutely perfect in its nasal precision that it becomes impossible to track where allegory and metaphor end, and magic begins. I will say that the world-building, in general, is lightly sketched and deliberately under-explained. Magic (and, indeed, immortality, with successful Hollywood idols literally ascending to the skies as a star) exists in the world but not in a single form: some of it is fairy-tale-esque, though eerie, like drinking the years of someone else’s life in a bloody teacup, or making bargains with sacrifice-demanding entities, either fey (there’s some very specific Tam Lin / winter king stuff in here) or demonic, and some of it is just plain weird like the … the … the uh… I don’t know how to write this without it sounding sarcastic or rude to Scandinavians but the … wild and beautiful cow women of Sweden? Which, I think, might be a reference to Sibilja from The Tale of Ragnar Lodbrok but, honestly, I don’t even know. I sincerely apologise if there’s a strong magical cow tradition in Swedish folklore towards which I am now demonstrating my profound ignorance. Also, I should just add that Greta is fantastic: she’s brought to Hollywood under duress and escapes it (albeit not without loss) spiritually undiminished and upon her own terms. As far as straight besties in evil fairy Hollywood go, 5 out of 5 for magical cow women from Sweden.

I think, to me, what was interesting about the world-building and the portrayal of the magic here was that while I *wanted* to know more, I didn’t *need* to know more, which felt like the sweet spot in that it kept the magic genuinely mysterious without leaving me frustrated or confused. It’s kind of the opposite to Book of Night, where some of the magical twists and turns weren’t landing for me because I didn’t have enough context to quite grasp what was being either twisted or turned. Whereas here, every time I discovered something new that magic was being used for, I’d find myself both horrified but unsurprised. Whether it was the cameras that were used to make silent movies consuming the souls of the stars, or Hollywood literally owning the children they employ, or the studio heads creating obedient simulacra of people for background parts, I’d just be like, oh yeah, that totally makes sense that they could and would do that.

Anyway, the heroine of Siren Queen is the Hollywood star known as Luli Wei. Again, something that works to soften the general atmosphere of doom and disempowerment is the fact she’s quite explicitly narrating from the future: a future where she has found not only the success she originally seeks in Hollywood, but also the freedom to discuss her identity as a queer Asian American woman, and happiness with a partner she mentions just often enough to give her a textual reality. When the book opens, however, she’s just a child, the daughter of immigrant parents, helping out at their laundry and sneaking away to the cinema whenever she can—though even that is a far from innocent pleasure, since it costs her an inch of her hair every time. A chance role as a background urchin on nearby film set allows Luli to brush tantalisingly close to the world she wants to make hers. Needless to say this will come with another set of costs and complications, but Luli manages to enforce some stipulations too: she won’t play maids, faint, or do an accent. This, of course, leaves the studio entirely uncertain about what to do with her until she is finally cast a monster—the siren queen—on an otherwise unremarkable action movie, and begins to forge a path to stardom that is uniquely her own.

Despite its fantastical elements, and the book’s care for its characters, there is no escaping the racism, sexism and homophobia that saturates this era and this industry, and this industry during this era (and *cough* now). And Luli is a complicated character, who weaponises what is perceived as her ‘coldness’, in order to navigate a world determined first to overlook her, then to simplify her, and finally simply to exploit her. I think why this leads me back to my sense of Siren Queen as a fundamentally kind book is because, even though Luli is our narrator and we see the world solely through her eyes, there is an inescapable clarity as to who exactly the villains are here. And so, while there isn’t always harmony between the marginalised (as well there should not be, because marginalised people aren’t monoliths), there never occurs a situation in which marginalised people are pitted against each other by the text itself (even if the world sometimes tries to do it for them) or condemned for making they choices that they do. A good example of this is Luli’s brief meeting with Louisa Davis, one of the Black actors who forged an incredibly successful career from playing the loyal and humble maids so beloved by white audiences. Given that Luli’s own resistance to these roles could have implied a broader criticism towards the people who did, the little glimpse of Ms Davis provides an important counterpoint, reminding us that every choice can be a victory in a world constructed around limiting the lives of marginalised people, and the choices history may not view with understanding speak of strength, not weakness.

A more intricate example would be Luli’s relationship with Emmeline: a newly made Hollywood star and perfect heroine material, despite the humble Midwestern background she sometimes misses. Romance-reader that I am, I loved the relationships in Siren Queen. And I especially loved that the text gave equal weight to the value to all of them, whether it’s Luli’s current relationship with Jane (their interactions have a kind of playfulness to them that suggest two people who know each other deeply) or the intensities of first love she experiences with Emmeline, with all its secrets and surprises, or the quieter, more considered and yet more open romance she shares later with a scriptwriter called Tara. Emmeline, in particular, could so easily have become “a bad queer” in this narrative. Their relationship falls apart—despite their both being in love with the other—because Emmeline cannot forgive Luli for her recklessness, not only in challenging the studio, but in drawing attention to her sexuality (she goes dancing, for example, at a known lesbian club). In so many queer books, queer people who keep their sexuality hidden or to prioritise their goals over the expression of their identity are portrayed as traitorous or cowardly or weak. While Emmeline and Luli hurt each other very much—and that hurt is as real as the love—I appreciated that Emmeline is neither allowed to fade into a villain, nor condemned for the way she chooses to navigate her queerness in a bigoted world.

On the subject of who is and who isn’t a villain, I should also add that the even the obvious antagonists are far from straightforward. The head of Wolfe studies, Oberlin Wolfe, for example, literally has a monstrous being inside him with whom he’s struck a deal for money and power. And while he remains both frightening and repulsive he’s also … oddly compelling. Perhaps because he too has paid perhaps more than he should for his success. I don’t think we’re exactly asked to sympathise with this—he made his choices, after all, and those choices include literal human sacrifice—but we’re not allowed to ignore it either. And, while I don’t think it should have been the focus of the story or anything, I think that little nod towards the fact that systems of control tend to harm everyone caught up in them, even those close to the top, deftly avoid what could otherwise perhaps have been a too-blunt division between the exploiting and the exploited.

All of which is to say: this book is terrifying and gorgeous and lovely, and you should read it as soon as you have the opportunity to do so. If the world has ever made you feel even the slightest bit monstrous, Siren Queen is for you, and you will know its for you, and that will make you feel—above all—unexpectedly loved.

In this historical fantasy, Hollywood is even more cutthroat than in our world, and becoming famous often means selling your soul to the devil, or something of that sort. Luli Wei will do anything famous, which is especially difficult for a Chinese American woman.

One thing I absolutely love about Nghi Vo's writing is her very aesthetic and fantastical worldbuilding. I love the way she combines fantasy and historical fiction, and the vibes of this fantasy Hollywood were immaculate. That being said, I was a bit confused on the rules of the magic, and I wish there was more clarity there. The pacing was a little off to me, but I still really enjoyed this book and the representation.

I went into this book pretty blind. I wasn't sure where it was taking me, but I went along for the ride regardless. To me this a (fictional) memoir about a girl turned monster turned star. Or maybe she always was a monster. Or a star, burning silver and bright. With a personality so cold and deep, she gave the ocean a run for its money. Maybe she didn't become those things but instead shed the skins of her former life.

I'll admit that at first I found the book to feel like it meandered without purpose. But that's almost the point. I don't want to say the book is devoid of plot. However, it's much more of a character study of the narrator. There's a cold, calm collectiveness to her and the novel itself. She doesn't reject necessarily; she just doesn't mince words. The ocean doesn't come to you; but if you go to the ocean, it welcomes you in its embrace.

One of my favorite aspects of the book was the strange things that would occur. A mother making doll-people to replace lost daughters. Not just playthings. But actual beings the father could interact with. Or a man with a monster hidden in his shadows. Nothing supernatural is explained. The narrator can't give an explanation, and she's not going to make one up. Some things just are the way they are.

There's a lot to unpack with the presentation of "monster" here, too. The narrator is the siren queen. She is that character. That monster. The scenes with the movie aren't stylized differently. They aren't set apart with "I, in character..." They're written the same as everything else. What exactly is a monster as presented in this book? Is it someone who is [perceived as] foreign? Whether that means foreign from the US or just foreign from Los Angeles. Is it someone who is cutthroat? Someone who makes sacrifices to get ahead—no matter what or who. Is it someone who's LGBTQ+? The book gives examples, but it's up for the reader to come up with a definition. The narrator fits all three. She's American but perceived as foreign because of her looks. She sacrifices her sister's name and 20 years of her own life to achieve her dreams. And she has relationships with other women. "Monster" here is not negative. It's just a fact of life. (These are of course just my interpretations.)

After all that rambling, I have to say this is a short book that can be dissected to no end. It sings out at you and lays its heart out for you to see.

I devoured this book. I’m a big fan of Nghi Vo, and this book is just as captivating as the Singing Hills Cycle, which is outstanding. It’s hard for me to categorize this one- fantasy, magical realism, with a little horror thrown in?

It takes place in a time of movie stars and big studios. The main character is fighting to make a place for herself in this world and become a star in her own right, despite not being the “traditional” leading lady of the time. And this world is full of secrets and dangers and has a shortage of people she can trust.

The story hooked me right away. It’s the kind of book that you get lost in…you look up and are surprised at how much time has passed. The author’s prose is so beautiful, heartachingly beautiful at times. The characters are well drawn, and there are hints of monsters, magic, and immortality of one kind or another.

I loved it. I absolutely recommend it. Thank you to MacMillan/Tor-Forge, Tordotcom, and NetGalley for my copy.

Siren Queen By Nghi Vo is set in the 1930's Hollywood but in a world where the worst monsters are not on screen. Luli Wei is a Chinese-American girl who wants to be in movies but would rather play the monster than the maid. When the studios own everything, Luli is willing to do whatever in takes to become a star. I received an early review copy through NetGalley.
Siren Queen is an amazing critical and magical take on old Hollywood. Luli is one of those characters that you love and want to root for but in many ways she is not a good person. Near the end you have that feeling that things aren't going to go her way which makes the ending much more satisfyingly. I love the fact that it takes a while for the title to real make since as it is a monster that make Luli famous.
My one criticism of the story is that the magic is never really explained however the writing sucks you in in a way that that doesn't matter that much. I just would have like to see how everyone knows how the magic works. Also I do wish the book was a little longer just because I love the world that Nigh Vo crated and would love to see more of. This book made me want to read Nigh Vo's other works even more.

Thank you to MacMillan-Tor/Forge and NetGalley for this ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Siren Queen by Nghi Vo is an absolutely amazing #ownvoices blend of history and magical realism. It will appeal to fans of Netflix's Hollywood and other tales of class movie star glamor. The story revolves around Luli Wei, a Chinese American girl who dreams of becoming a movie star. With her wit and a bit of magic, she's able to start her journey. According to the synopsis, the movie studios "run on a system of bargains made in blood and ancient magic." Will Luli be able to achieve her dream, and what will she give up to achieve it?

Here is a magical excerpt from Chapter 1:

"“Well, it’s a nickel if you’re ordinary, but you girls aren’t, are you?”
Up until that very moment, Luli and I would have given absolutely anything to be ordinary, to live in one of the pastel boxes off of Hungarian Hill, to have curly blond or brown hair instead of straight black, and to have pop eyes instead of ones that looked like slits carved into the smooth skin of a melon.
The way the beautiful Black woman spoke, however, I started to wonder. If I couldn’t be ordinary, maybe I could be something better instead.
Maybe I could get into the nickelodeon.
Luli tugged at my hand fretfully, but I squeezed tighter, comforting and bullying at once.
“We’re not ordinary at all,” I declared. “And we don’t have any nickels.”
The woman touched a neatly manicured nail to her full lower lip, and then she smiled.
“An inch of your hair,” she said at last. “Just one inch for two of you.”"

Overall, Siren Queen is a wonderful look into the rise of a Chinese American actress in pre-code old Hollywood. First off, I am so excited to read and support this #ownvoices book. As a reader of Chinese descent myself, I was so happy to read a book that partially shows how Chinese Americans lived at the time. One highlight of this book is the amazing writing and dialogue. I felt like I had been transported to the 20th century, and it was a magical place. I could not stop reading this book, and I did not want to leave. If you're intrigued by the excerpt above, or if you're a fan of books that blend history with magical realism, I highly recommend that you check out this book when it comes out in May!

Let me start by saying I had no clue what this book was about. I was simply drawn in by the cover and going into a book blind helps me appreciate different genres. Since I did not know this was science fiction, I was very confused when characters were taking on animal-like features, however, I was soon drawn into her dark world of Hollywood. I know Nghi Vo is a very popular author and I can see why with her vivid characters and fast-moving plot. This is a coming-of-age story that is very different from any I have read before. This book covers cultural stereotypes, chasing your dreams, LGBTQ relationships, and is a satirical approach to Hollywood and what you have to do to become one of the greats on the big screen.

This was amazing. This is the first time I've ready any of Vo's work, and I really need to go explore her entire catalog now. This story of a second generation immigrant just trying to live her dreams in a magic filled, alt history Hollywood golden-age is mesmerizing. There are all the magical dangers and twists, and there are also all the ones of just being a queer woman of color when the world would rather you weren't.

“No maids, no funny talking, no fainting flowers.”

Siren Queen was a wonderful read, full of mysteries, empowerment and reflexion about racism, poverty and power. I loved how the big metaphors about Hollywood became literal (the monsters, the stars, the bargains) and how relationships are created and developped in this world where image is everything. It's also tender in its depiction of love - familial, friendly or romantic - that builds the character of Luli, who is a force of nature we love to follow and see grow.

I loved this story, I was hooked from the start. It's immersive, haunting, and timely. The book draws you in and I had to remind myself that this was a work of fiction and not a Hollywood Biography. If you love all things spooky and speculative and loved the 7 Husbands of Eleven Hugo, then you will love Siren Queen. The writing style and the world building was something different than I was used to, sometimes assumptions are just made and maybe not always as clear so you have to go with it, and suspend your concept of reality. It did take awhile to finish the book but it kept drawing me back. The book is super creative and tackles many issues like racisms and homophobia in 1930s Hollywood and does so a very unique way. Vo has a very specific voice and I am excited to read more of her works in the future. A totally unique story that will be the perfect summer read

This book was such an enchanting read for me. I really loved and enjoyed it. Not only I really loved the sapphic rep in it but also the world author created and how well they addressed some of the social topics such as homophobia and racism quite well. Along with that, the writing was so beautiful, that I just had to finish it in the first sitting only!! Henceforth, it’s a 5 star read.

This book was everything I hoped it would be and so, so much more. This book manages to capture old Hollywood glamour but makes it so heart-wrenching and so intensely compelling. The characters are interesting and show true development throughout Siren Queen, Vo also captures the nostalgia that makes old Hollywood so interesting - while being nostalgic, it's still SO new and interesting. I cannot recommend this enough.