I received a free copy of this book, and I read it as part of the judging effort for the SFINCS3 novella competition. I’m part of Team TBR, but these thoughts are my own and do not reflect the final rating of the team.

The Final Voyage of Avery Mothmere

By Helen Whistberry

I did not like this book. I was ready to give up on it after the second chapter. I had some rather unflattering thoughts I will not share here.

In the end, I did not give up, and in the end, I grew rather fond of this unusual little story. I’m happy I finished it, and I think I will remember it for a long time to come. 

So, what happened?

Why didn’t I like it? Why did I continue reading? Why did I change my mind?

I’ve thought a lot about it, and there are two main reasons. One is peer pressure, and the other is the voice of the story.

Perhaps peer pressure isn’t exactly the right word, but it’ll do. I read this as part of the SFINCS novella competition, and discussion within the team made me reevaluate my attitude towards the book. I’m fairly used to reading books where I’m not the target audience, but I usually get the idea of what the author is trying to do. Not so in this case. 

If you really want to, you can probably fit The Final Voyage of Avery Mothmere into a traditional three act structure, with introduction, escalation, and climax, but doing so may be a disservice not only to the story, but also to yourself as a reader.

Expecting a traditional story will prime you to look for foreshadowing, conflict, and a big dramatic ending. All those things are there, but not in the shape you’re probably used to. Looking for them will set you up for frustration and disappointment. It’s not that kind of story.

It’s a story of moments and experiences. It’s like the middle of a book has been expanded to reach almost all the way to the beginning and the end – and yes I know what a silly statement that is, but I have a hard time putting the feeling into words. It’s like every scene is in the present and the story has just started, or just ended. Maybe I still don’t get it at all?

What I know is that going into this expecting a “regular” story had me confused and annoyed, and that changing my attitude about it made me appreciate the book so much more.

The other reason I kept on with the story is the voice. The prose is absolutely rock solid. I don’t have a word for the style, but the language reminds me of the kind you’d find in books from the late nineteenth century or early twentieth, perhaps. Is that Victorian era?

I rarely come across this style of writing in modern books, and when I do, it’s usually patchy or inconsistent, like the writer has to remind themselves to write like H.P. Lovecraft every few scenes and then slip back into their regular modern voice. Not so in this case. The style is maintained perfectly throughout the book. It never wavers, and it gives the story a confidence that pulls me in and makes me keep reading. It’s hard to imagine that someone who writes this well doesn’t know what they’re doing – even if I don’t know what they’re doing.

Okay, so that’s all well and good, but what’s it all about?

You know, that’s a valid question, but I’m not going to answer it. The experience of the reading is more important than the story, or so I feel. Suffice to say, it starts with a shipwreck, a cat, and a lover cut in half. Then it gets weird. Weird and beautiful.

What I’ll whine about

I wish I’d had more of a clue of what this story was about when I started it. Maybe then I’d have had less of a hard time with the first half of the book. Not that I know what the author could have done to change that. Perhaps I just have to read it again?

What I’ll gush about

The prose. It’s fantastic.

The moments. Once I’d learned to appreciate what the book is, and stopped looking for what it’s not, the experience of reading it changed into something beautiful and personal.

Final Words

Different and beautiful. Strange, weird, and lovely.

Find The Final Voyage of Avery Mothmere on Goodreads.