This book is a blade-dented masterpiece.

How it was not nominated for either a Hugo or a Nebula or a Locus, I have no fucking clue, because this book is fucking incredible.

I mean, holy shit.

I'm not going to recount anything for you. Go in knowing nothing beyond the blurb. Go in expecting heartbreak and heartsickness and horror and regret and love, nothing more than your body being swept away and pieced back together again.

Hats off to Simon Jimenez for attempting something so ambitious in the narrative structure—and pulling it off in spears and spades and moonlit bodies.

I adored Simon Jimenez's first book, THE VANISHED BIRDS, and was excited enough for his sophomore novel to nominate it for Solid State Books' scifi book club which I co-moderate. Ultimately, THE SPEAR CUTS THROUGH WATER was a let-down for me--too many narrative layers, too violent for my tastes, too labrynthine and impenetrable for me to ever connect with any of its characters--but it nevertheless generated a phenomenal conversation with our group. Even though it was a miss for me, I enjoyed all the questions it generated, and walked away with a greater appreciation for the book/Jimenez's project in writing it. And I look forward to seeing whatever this author does in the future!

The Spear Cuts Through Water was everything I wanted it to be in more. I went in knowing next to nothing about the plot and that is definitely the reading experience I recommend. I am in awe of this book and there is no way that I can accurately capture my feelings in a review but I will do my best.

The Spear Cuts Through Water is written in a unique narrative style that mimics oral storytelling. This structure is executed beautifully and really elevates the story. Multiple perspectives and times are woven together to create an intricate tapestry of love, sacrifice, power, and godhood. I could write a thesis on the way Jimenez plays with storytelling, perspective, and time in this novel. But I fear that giving any more details would spoil some of the incredible reveals. Every single detail of this story is important and the twists are some of the most satisfying reveals I have ever read. The Spear Cuts Through Water really appealed to my love of The Fifth Season and Harrow the Ninth.

The story is fascinating in its brutality and depiction of suffering. There are scenes that will appear in my nightmares and moments that made my heart ache. But at its core, The Spear Cuts Through Water is a love story. It is not a neat love story and it is not always a happy love story but…

This is a love story to its blade-dented bone.

This book had me almost gagging at the gore and then laughing out loud at the characters’ banter twenty pages later. Despite the intensity and severity of the storyline the book still finds moments of levity and passion.

The Spear Cuts Through Water depicts a world on the precipice. Godly intervention and the greed of mankind have wreaked havoc on the land for centuries. The escape of the moon goddess will either save the world or end it. Our “heroes” are two flawed characters that no one would have picked to save the world. Their dynamic was incredible and it was impossible not to root for them as they faced an impossible quest.

This will not be a book for everybody. The narrative style and lack of chapter breaks can be confusing and overwhelming at times. There is also a considerable amount of gore and difficult-to-read topics so I suggest looking up the content warnings before starting. But if you have ever been intrigued by this book I would highly recommend giving it a try.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

My heart, omg. I absolutely ADORED the way this book was written- I have never read anything like it! The format and style was so unique, but I can understand why some readers didn't enjoy it or found it too complicated. This story has three layers: one is the fantastic adventure and love story of Keema and Jun in the Old Country as they try to restore the Moon Goddess' power, another is the dream world of the Inverted Theater, in which Keema and Jun's story is being acted out for an audience of spirits, and the third is the "real world" memories of one audience member in this theater who has grown up hearing about the Old Country and its stories from their lola. The author blends together these three layers so seamlessly, with both time and space, that I felt it wasn't very puzzling to piece it all together. If you are not a fan of nonlinear stories or magical realism, however, then this is definitely not a book for you.

I couldn't put this down! The main story following Keema and Jun's adventure takes place over just five days, but the entire story spans centuries. Their race across the country was filled with both so much action and unexpected twists, but also so many tender moments and reflections. As the narrator's lola says, this is at heart a love story, and it was such a beautiful one, as grand as the love between the moon and the sea (which also comes into play!).

This book wasn't super gory, but definitely a bit, so trigger warning for a bit of cannibalism and violence.

It was such a pleasure to fall completely into this world for a while, and this story will definitely stick with me. I would read anything by this author!

This is a book to approach with an open mind because the storytelling style is quite unique. It is like a play in a theatre, here it is called the inverted theatre, where you are as much shown a story as much as told one. In this fashion, you are told a story in second person with a few exposition dumps which is mostly what made me take forever to get through it. This style of storytelling is something that I enjoyed as a leisurely rainy day book, and then it got very descriptive in the torture and violence and it wasn’t quite so leisurely anymore. I would say the storytelling tone did not fit the words that were being told, but I think it was an interesting juxtaposition rather than something wrong.

This is an ambitious story of many layers; the unnamed person invited to the inverted theatre who is being told the story, a goddess fallen from grace, and two young men on epic-fantasy quests.

I think it was about halfway through this book that I realized I enjoyed it. At first it was confusing with the switching between 1st, 2nd, and 3rd person narration and the story was a bit of a chore until it fully got underway. I think it was a good story in the end, but I have mixed feelings about it overall. It isn’t an easy read, and it definitely isn’t for everyone.

Is there a book that you are kicking yourself about taking so long to get to? For me it is currently "The Spear Cuts Through Water" by Simon Jimenez.

The bones of the story are an escaped god is being taken to the ocean by her former captor and a soldier who is transporting a spear. And that in no way captures what happens. I was confused by the storytelling at first, but then it sunk in and I was carried away.

Narrated by Joel de la Fuente, they way he bounced between the different characters, perspectives, and storytellers. Damn.

Reasons to read:
-It's going to be weird, but you will probably like it
-The side stories are all fantastic
-It is a single book so just devour it
-The pay offs for listening
-Sudden escalation of activities
-Some really messed up antagonists, some are called Three Terrors

Cons:
-It's gonna get real weird, but go with it

4.5ish stars.

Just as beautiful as the author's debut novel, Vanished Birds, which was one of my favorites.

3.5 rounded up to 4 stars.

This book was an experience. It took me a long time to get into because I think my expectations were so far off from what I read that it was jarring to accept. Spear is not an easy read by any means. There's a framing narrative (a story within a story) and 2nd person point of view ('you' rather than 'I' or 'he/she') right from the get-go, along with the internal epic fantasy story, and honestly I was so confused for the first fifty pages I didn't know what to make of it. If it hadn't been a recommendation from someone I trusted, I might've given up.

But then around the 1/3rd mark (granted, that's 150 pages in) I settled in and by page 200 I was invested. By the halfway point, I was hooked and some of the writing around that point was so beautiful it was almost painful. I realized suddenly that I cared immensely for the two heroes of the story (though significantly less for the 'you' because I just don't like 2nd person, which sections of I skimmed the whole time) and was fascinated by their world. I *loved* the love story. So much that it hurt. It never did get easy to read but it was satisfying and I couldn't put it down for the last 200 pages all the way to the very end which I was happy with even though there are many heartbreaks along the way.

I can say that I liked it but it took much too long for me to get there for my taste. It's an ambitious book but I wonder if I would've liked it more if it had been less so. It certainly is a unique read and one I would recommend to veteran fantasy readers who are looking for something deep, satisfying, and at times an interesting challenge.


Note: I received a free electronic edition of this book via NetGalley in exchange for the honest review above. I would like to thank them, the publisher, and the author for the opportunity to do so.

"The Spear Cuts Through Water" by Simon Jimenez is a beautifully written and emotionally resonant novel that left a lasting impact on me. Jimenez's prose is lyrical and evocative, painting vivid scenes that transported me to different worlds and timelines. The story weaves together themes of love, loss, family, and the power of storytelling in a captivating and thought-provoking way. The characters are deeply flawed and compelling, and their journeys are filled with heartache and moments of profound beauty. Jimenez's exploration of identity and the interconnectedness of lives across time and space is both poignant and powerful. "The Spear Cuts Through Water" is a stunning and unforgettable novel that will stay with me long after reading it.

A Spear Cuts Through Water is a story told in many voices, some intruding on the narrative or adding asides. What could have come across as a cacophony instead forms a chorus, weaving together to tell of a moment both historic and mythic in proportion. We sit in the Inverted Theater outside of time and watch the story unfold as a play. At times, the narrative is addressed to "you," a person who has dreamed themself into the audience with a family heirloom in hand-- a spear. This person grew up with nine older brothers, listening to their lola's stories about the Old Country, the setting for our play. The events on the stage and the protagonist's experiences drift back and forth between one another, building a solid cord of empathy that strengthens the reader's understanding of both plots. A more direct collision between these plots and voices comes near the end, both surprising and welcome.

In the story presented at The Inverted Theater, an empire falls. Both the powerful and the powerless scheme. Mortals and divine beings die in ways sometimes otherworldly and other times mundane but often unexpected in some way. Tortoises communicate mentally to form a royal messenger network across the Old Country. A moon goddess both loves and hates her powerful progeny even as her internal resources near their end. A man with one arm is marked out as a man of poor fortune, but his commander entrusts him with an object of great power and personal value with a quest and an oath attached. Another man rejects his violent history and his family bonds to aid a great escape and revolution, even as he anticipates his own death by the end. Three Terrors rain down destruction on those less powerful even as they grapple with their lonely formative years. Mortals eat gods to steal their power. Queer people thrive as an unremarkable part of society, suffering alongside their compatriots in a world with a huge wealth gap that disadvantages most. Specifically, a gay romance forms the central relationship of the play. And the meat of the story takes place over five very busy days.

Jimenez sketches life's big emotions with a deft hand, capturing fraught moments and internal struggles without wasting words. There's a sense of myth and longevity in the way the story is woven and presented, timeless without being cliche and still grounded in a strong sense of place, though fantastical. The story considers power and its societal imbalance throughout. Towards the end, it adds a more specific discussion about the legacy of colonialism and the dangers of ignoring signs of environmental collapse. This literary fantasy was somehow both engrossing yet difficult for me to pick up again between reads. It has a slow start that ramps up to the end. While it has plenty of movement and action, the heavy quality of its events is I think what held me up. In my opinion, the storytelling finesse extends to a satisfying ending. It stirs up a mix of feelings that feel natural-- an appropriate reaction to a complex story with many outcomes. Thanks to Del Rey for a copy of this thoughtful, impactful book to read and review!

4.5

Holy shit this book. It won’t be for everyone, and to be honest at times while reading I wasn’t sure it would be for me, but wow was this an impressive piece of art. I requested this after loving Jimenez’s debut The Vanished Birds, and his sophomore release is just as impressive.

The Spear Cuts Through Water is part folk tale, part epic quest, part romance, and so much more. It’s about the power of storytelling and explores trauma and violence in a really fascinating way. Jimenez uses experimental narrative devices and stories within stories and the way he manages to weave all the pieces together is nothing short of masterful. As the reader, I admit I was confused a good chunk of the time, but I trusted Jimenez to pull it all together in the end and he did not disappoint.

The prose was phenomenal. I found myself highlighting pieces of text and taking moments to just pause and think. I did ultimately immersion read this because I loved the audio narration but I found myself getting lost in perspective shifts. Throughout the book Jimenez utilizes the second person as well as interludes that mimic choruses of ancient texts.

On a first read, I have a hard time giving this a full five stars because I had a difficult time getting fully invested in the story, but I finished this book a few days ago and still have not stopped thinking about it so I know it’ll be one I want to reread and I think upon reread it will be a full five star and potentially favorite.

LOOOOVED THIS!! in every sense of the word, this was SPECTACULAR. simon jimenez is a magician with words and worlds and i don't see him ever publishing something less than a 5-star.

- thanks to netgalley & the publisher for providing me with an e-ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

I feel like it’s a shame Jimenez isn’t getting all the recognition. He is an excellent writer. His words create tone and ambiance and feeling right from page one.

The structure of this book is so unique and so wonderfully done if you frame the POV switches in that structure. Something like this could have been a disaster in the wrong hands but it was easy and fun to follow.

Keema and Jun are great characters to follow. Their arcs follow a slow burn enemies to friends format that I ate up even when they were breaking my heart. I also enjoyed some of the other characters. I thought the First Terror was a well done and believable villain. I also liked how the author made me feel about the Third Terror (conflicted- lots of shades of gray there).

The worldbuilding is rich and detailed with place names and anthropomorphic animals, gods and goddesses, mythology and history.

There are a couple reasons I’m not giving it 5 stars. The first is that for all my love of this author, he is clinging hard to those long chapters and I hate it.

The reason I started this in October and didn’t finish until May is because of those chapters. I’m told the physical version’s formatting is better than the eARC’s formatting that I received, but I could hear/see when there were chapter breaks in the audio and so even if they weren’t as bad as the very long first day (100+ pages IIRC). I had to listen to this on audio because that matters less to me in an audio book for some reason- I stop when I get out of the car mostly (sometimes I will finish the chapter but clearly that wasn’t happening here.)

I don’t mind long books.

I mind dense books where every page feels like a mountain I have to climb. I don’t want to read this way. I’m sorry if that makes me sound lazy, like I don’t want to work for it, but I’ll be honest, I don’t want to work for it. Reading is a hobby I have. It’s supposed to be enjoyable, not frustrating.

The other reason is that for all these beautiful words there are a few places I feel like it could have been trimmed down or back? There are some side characters I think we ended up spending a little more time with than necessary (Second Terror I’m looking at you).

I will most certainly read his next. But please don't let those minor quips discourage anyone from reading the book. It deserves all the praise and recognition it gets.

Note: I listened to this on audio but way back when this was released I was given a review copy by NetGalley and the publisher to which I am very grateful and sorry that it took me this long to read.

This book is brilliantly imagined with its unconventional and ingenious storytelling. It is an epic fantasy that weaves through past, present, and future into an intriguing narrative of gods and goddesses, ruthless emperors and royals, warriors and rebels, queer love, and a spear (along with its history) finding its way to ‘your’ lola (grandmother in Tagalog). I say ‘your’ because the author did a great job in making the reader a part of the story like a bystander watching a performance as lola narrates tales of the Old Country. The main characters are easy to love despite their complicated personas.

While it is excellent in many ways, it took me awhile to finish as I have to be in a mood to read through this long action-packed novel and with its many layers, it can be confusing. If this is adapted to a movie, I would definitely watch it.

Reading a novel that adopts the structures and cadences of both theater and oral storytelling, with shifting perspectives and voices adding to the whole is the type of challenge proud, one-armed Keema (one of the two heroes of The Spear Cuts Through Water) would accept to prove himself. It was a challenge I was willing to take after reading Simon Jimenez’ debut novel The Vanished Birds, one of the best space operas I’ve read in years. The Spear Cuts Through Water is firmly rooted in epic fantasy, though it approaches the genre’s typical reliance on intricate worldbuilding in a unique way. You—the reader—know the shape of these types of narratives almost as intimately as you—the character in the story—does, having heard these tales of the old country from your lola countless times. There’s a land to be freed from crushing oppression; an evil emperor and his sons to defeat; an imprisoned goddess who needs heroes to help her escape: all part of a well-known story. The details are left dreamily vague because the broad strokes are familiar, a collective memory you recall in sleep, dreaming your way to the otherworldly Inverted Theater.

And it’s within that theater that the “you” within the story see the myth performed as a type of dance. The different layers of narrative and shifting points of view (the novel moves between first, second, and third person) are what make The Spear Cuts Through Water stand apart from more traditional fantasy. As the telling flows between points of view—often digressing to flesh out a secondary or even minor character’s relation to the core story—the reader is encouraged to ask: who is telling this story, and for whom? What role does the audience have—do they stand apart from the narrative or are they integral to it? Can an audience be separate from what’s told?

This experimental approach is bold, but Jimenez’s command of language and structure is such that every shift to another character is clear; every veer towards or away from the central heroes only helps flesh out a secondary or minor character. However, our two heroes stand at the heart of all these interwoven strands. When Keema, the self-styled warrior of the Daware tribe, is first introduced, he is at the bottom—ordered to clean out his barracks’ latrines as punishment. His commander, Uhi Araya, attempts to soften the punishment. Even though he relies on only one arm, the other lost sometime in the past, his pride prevents him from accepting such accommodations. When the garrison is attacked by the First Terror’s forces, that grit is what convinces Araya to trust Keema to deliver her family’s ancestral weapon—the spear giving the novel its name—to the Capital.

In his escape from his besieged garrison, he stumbles across a cart driven by demon-masked Jun. Mistrustful of Keema at first, Jun soon accepts him as an ally on his own quest: to reunite his grandmother, the moon goddess, with her first and greatest love, the far-off ocean. Keema wants to find out if the long-lashed eyes behind Jun’s mask match an equally lovely face, but their burgeoning interest in each other is dampened by Jun’s past. Heartsick and broken by the past slaughter of innocents expected from him as one of the sons of the First Terror, Jun is still haunted by who he was, even though he’s renounced violence and will no longer wield a weapon. Thus, the first tentative steps in the dance between Keema and Jun begin, though Jun demurs often—sometimes due to his obligations, and other times due to his war trauma.

Escaping their pursuers also forces the two heroes to focus more on their quests than their feelings for each other. As they draw closer to the Capital, the forces of the First Terror chase them into a trap set by his brother, the Second Terror. In the ensuing tumult, Keema loses the spear he swore to deliver.

The reader is encouraged to ask: who is telling this story, and for whom? What role does the audience have—do they stand apart from the narrative or are they integral to it? Can an audience be separate from what’s told?

This is where the narrative turns itself inside out, and you, as part of the audience in the Inverted Theater, are called upon to fulfill your role. It’s the same spear you’d glance at while your lola told you stories of the old country, an old weapon hung in a place of honor in the house before sleep brought you to the Inverted Theater. You suddenly realize that same spear is in your hands here in the now-silent theater. The phantom ushers gather around you expectantly; the shadowy audience is waiting. . .

It’s a bold move that should not work, but nevertheless does. Part of it may be that the story as known to the audience, to your fictional siblings, to your lola telling you stories about the old country, has already happened. It’s a known sum, and the you of the story, your lola and granjo, your father and everyone else are the end result—if Keema and Jun didn’t somehow get exactly the help they needed at exactly the right moment, then how could any of you be around to tell stories about their quest? Of course, the simpler, more grounded explanation is this: we as readers and as part of the story have been invited to take part in the telling, to help create the story from the very beginning, and we’ve all become invested in seeing Keema and Jun complete their quests. We expect but also want to help them complete their quests. We want to believe they—and we—can save the world, even if it’s all a story we’ve heard our lola tell us a thousand times.

It’s also why, when the last threads of the narrative are tucked away, with the world saved and the oppressive rule of centuries lifted, we are ready to accept this was always a love story, “down to its blade-dented bone”. When it came to Keema and Jun, it was always true.

(From The Ancillary Review of Books)

I received an ARC of The Spear Cuts Through Water from Del Rey in exchange for an honest review.

Simon Jimenez establishes himself as an essential voice in epic fantasy with his sophomore novel (after The Vanished Birds). The Spear Cuts Through Water takes place in a world ruled by a tyrannical emperor and his sons, the Three Terrors, who derive their power from an imprisoned god—until said god manages to escape and flees across the country with the aid of Jun, a son of the First Terror, and a one-armed outcast named Keema. Their journey is nestled within a frame story told from the perspective of a descendant of a minor character, who experiences the tale of Jun and Keema via stage performance in a theater that exists outside of space and time.

It’s…a lot. This whole book is a lot, mostly for the better but perhaps just a bit for the worse. It flits between multiple tenses, and it features first-, second-, and third-person POVs. The structure and formatting are unconventional: there are only seven chapters, and Jimenez liberally utilizes italics, bold fonts, and line breaks to draw your attention down the page, highlighting particular emotional beats and switches in perspective. Confusing? Not in practice. The text is carefully calibrated—Jimenez keeps the reader attentive, but he is not willing to risk them losing the thread of the story. I was landed in an ideal liminal space between comfort and challenge.

There’s a fabulistic quality to The Spear Cuts Through Water. The lyrical prose and meta narrative skew it into the realm of myth; but whereas myth tends to trade in archetypes (not an inherently bad thing, to be clear), Jimenez is aggressively determined to avoid that by offering a dimension of empathy to every character, major or minor, who has the misfortune to step onto the page and into the brutal and bloody world in which this story plays out. Unnamed characters perish left and right, but they are each given a chance to speak in flashes of first-person POVs.

When it comes to character development, the Terrors are a highlight. Although they live up to their collective name and cross the line into comic sadism, they are also wildly different from one another, and they each have rich backstories which are unveiled over the course of the book, looping back and layering over what came before. Every revelation locks in with a satisfying click. I desperately wanted to read more about these delightfully delicious villains. The main characters, in contrast, are curiously underdeveloped, particularly in relation to one another. I wanted to know more about Jun and Keema too, but less because I found them interesting and more because they weren’t given enough pagetime or personality for me to understand them.

If I were to level a core criticism at The Spear Cuts Through Water, it’s that there’s too much story packed into too few pages. It’s a better problem than the inverse, sure (and probably less common than not enough story stretched out over too many pages), but I still have to admit that I found myself craving several hundred more pages so I could truly get to know the world and the characters. Instead, the breakneck pace left me with little room to breathe, and although I was swept away by the thrills and soaring ambition of the story, I was never able to establish an emotional connection. The Spear Cuts Through Water promises warmth, but it doesn’t deliver.

I ultimately feel quite conflicted about Jimenez’s latest. It’s a book that I admire more than I actually love, but that admiration is fierce. I want more fantasy like this—sensitive, stylistically fresh, grand and glorious in both the sprawling scope of its cosmology and metaphysics and the intense intimacy of its relationships. Although I wanted more emotional engagement from The Spear Cuts Through Water, the raw storytelling prowess on display here has earned Jimenez his rightful place on my list of writers who I will always read without question or hesitation.

Thank you so much to the publisher for sending me an ARC!
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Unfortunately I DNFed this, it just didn’t catch my attention and maybe I’ll get into it again when I’m in the perfect headspace to give this another try! But I would buy and recommend this to others definitely!

The Spear Cuts Through Water is such a beautifully written fantasy. The world-building is outstanding. The story is well written with an enchanting storyline and well-developed characters that engage from start to finish. The world is atmospheric and feels real with vivid descriptions and rich imagery. Simon Jimenez has earned herself a spot on my auto-buy authors list. I cannot get enough. Highly recommended. Be sure to check out The Spear Cuts Through Water today.

Thank you to the author Simon Jimenez, the publisher, and NetGalley for providing me an ARC in exchange for my candid review.

This is a confusing story within a story, which ultimately unfolds into an interesting story. While it is not a bad book, it was just really not to my taste.

I feel like this book suffered from there being to many concepts executed at once. From the unusual perspective used to tell the story, to the many characters who lead different sections of the story, to the numerous plot points, there always seemed to be one element too many for me to feel that I had a good grasp of what the story was trying to convey or who I should feel most connected to at any given moment.

Though I'm a fan of all the concepts contained within the story, my enjoyment of them could not overcome the level of confusion I felt trying to follow the story.