A little on that in spoiler tags: It's this way because the narration is actually a magical play being put on in perpetual memorium of the forgotten warriors who sacrificed everything to save the world. But not entirely, because there are bits and pieces that are the actual Jun and Keema, because they discuss the play being performed elsewhere (or is that in the play too in some sort of Inception-scenario?). The interjections are coming from the players doing the bit parts to give them some character. There's also extended periods with the First and Second Terror to make sure that the audience understands exactly how they are monsters, and with the Third Terror, who while a monster in a more literal sense then his brothers, actually turns out to be somewhat pitiable. I was so intrigued by the history of the world and the glimpses we get of it through Jun and Keema’s five day journey — and it’s not just a couple of perspectives but we get insights from the most insignificant characters in first person. I would normally be put off by it but I realised how well this structure worked for the novel as I wouldn’t have it any other way. In a fantasy, so often the focus is the hero's journey - their growth and feelings. Most everyone else in the fantasy world is fodder - bit players, wallflowers, NPCs. Commonfolk.

Content warnings: lots of extremely graphic gore, body horror, torture, ritual cannibalism, scenes of someone being eaten alive and so on and so forth My Review: How do you read your books? Tree book, ebook, ear reading? Where are you when you experience the stories you consume...bed, chair, front seat of the car, public transportation? All of these factors will come into play while experiencing this read. How this book managed to slip under everyone’s radar despite being the best fantasy of the year is a mystery to me. Speaking of characters, I was immediately invested in Jun and Keema’s dynamic and the pure yearning they develop for each other. I loved being opened up to their complicated personalities, from reluctant travel companions to their love for each other.Nothing is left to chance; from beginning to end, the narrator presents you with the exact amount of information you need to follow the story, without ever revealing too much or too little. The author trusts you to trust him and let yourself be carried away into an ancestral world where the narrative is out of your control. I can’t remember the last time I felt such a sense of wonder while reading a book: the atmospheric writing is reminiscent of Erin Morgenstern and Neil Gaiman, but Jimenez keeps a tight grip on the plot, never allowing the story to meander or the descriptions to veer into self-indulgence. First, it begins with an unnamed character (these parts narrated in second person). This person gets introduced to the cruel, brutal world Simon Jimenez created, through the stories of their Lola (do say it as loh-la, not low-la). Like Jimenez’s previous novel, this book starts as compelling as ever. Other books you’d describe as a movie playing in your head, but this one was a theater play. It was a performance through and through; it starts with the introduction of an Inverted Theater after all. A theater for dreamers, where the story of the two warriors gets acted out. And as it begins, the prose seems to follow a rhythm, seems to flow in tandem with the drumbeats in that theater.

Content & trigger warnings: blood, gore, torture, war, ableism, body horror, dismemberment, cannibalism, murder, genocide It's actually a clever way to tell this story, but it has two major detrimental effects on my reading experience. Firstly, it makes the book way too long for what it is, which is fairly simple: two warriors flee from powerful magical enemies, falling in love in the process. All of which forces them both to grow as characters. With the constant interruptions and the extended gruesome illustrations of how horrible the Terrors are (see the spoiler section above as to why), the tale is extended beyond my patience. Part epic folk tale, part meta-narrative exploration of family and identity, The Spear Cuts Through Water is a work of fiction so perfectly conceived and executed that I will be personally offended if it doesn’t swoop up all the awards next season. Jimenez creates a puzzle of intersecting storylines that fit together like Russian dolls, cleverly employing different perspectives, tenses, and settings to obfuscate his intentions before finally revealing his cards to the reader at the most climactic moment. The Spear Cuts Through Water is many, many things. It’s a spellbinding tribute to oral storytelling and folklore. It’s a thoughtful exploration of identity and family. But more than anything, The Spear Cuts Through Water is a love story, and one unlike anything you’ve read before.” —Polygon “Best Science Fiction and Fantasy Books of 2022” And she'll never tell him. She won't be who he ends up with, and the audience won't remember her name. But it's such a small, beautiful moment.Not recommended to: those who hate omniscient narrative style or get easily confused, anyone sensitive to violence and torture This book is told in a very strange way, with alternating omniscient second person and omniscient third person narration constantly interrupted by first person interjections from just about every side character that the principal players encounter, including some very obscure ones like the thoughts of the models from when a painting that the main characters are viewing. There's an in-story reason for this, and it's an interesting concept, but it didn't work for me at all.