A Letter from the Lonesome Shore: A Sea of Ideas, But Not Enough Depth
When I first stumbled upon A Letter from the Lonesome Shore by A.H. Lee, the promise of an underwater adventure intertwined with academia was impossible to resist. The atmospheric vibes and the prospect of delving into a world filled with knowledge beckoned me like a siren’s song. But, dear readers, as I dove deeper, I found myself not quite enchanted by the depths of this sequel in The Sunken Archive Duology.
Picking up from A Letter to the Luminous Deep, this second half chronicles E and Henerey as they navigate a peculiar society obsessed with knowledge, leaving behind a world desperately searching for them. The dramatic stakes are certainly present, with not just the siblings attempting to reunite, but also an ancient threat that looms large. However, despite these promising elements, I found myself yearning for the same investment I felt during the first book.
One of the most striking aspects was the lush underwater world, which was as mesmerizing as ever. I delighted in the world-building elements employed by Lee, particularly how this society views and utilizes knowledge. The nuances of anxiety and mental health portrayal were commendable and true to life. Their authenticity brought a layer of depth to the characters that I appreciated. Additionally, the LGBTQ+ representation carries over beautifully from the first book, creating a tapestry of relational dynamics that feels both profound and necessary.
However, I encountered significant turbulence with the plot and pacing. While I was initially fascinated by the epistolary approach, it soon began to feel forced and somewhat flat in this installment. Rather than an engaging collection of personal correspondence, we are met with unsent letters and official reports that lack the charm of heartfelt exchange. The varying perspectives felt muddled, making it tough to maintain a connection with the characters.
Furthermore, the pacing felt agonizingly slow; a continuous circling back to established background over anything resembling plot progression left me feeling adrift. Major revelations were buried beneath an unwieldy infodump that arrived frustratingly late—around the 70% mark—which could have been parsed more effectively throughout the narrative. It’s such a missed opportunity, especially given the intriguing premise.
The relationships, while initially promising, began to drown under a wave of repetition. The emotional beats felt familiar—a sense of déjà vu washed over me—causing me to long for fresh conflicts and developments. And the ending? I found it disappointingly shallow, lacking the gravitas I hoped for after investing nearly 800 pages with these characters.
In spite of its beautiful cover and innovative concept, A Letter from the Lonesome Shore ultimately left me wanting. It’s a classic case of “Wow Concept, Average Execution.” The Goodreads rating suggests a warmer reception than my own; thus, I urge readers to consider multiple perspectives.
This sequel may still appeal to those who enjoyed the first book and are seeking closure for E and Henerey. Yet, for the rest of us, it’s akin to comprehending a riddle half-formed—a glimpse of brilliance that never quite reached the surface.
With a heavy heart (and perhaps an eye roll), I’m left to give this outing 2 stars, hoping the journey continues to unfold in new and exciting ways in whatever lies ahead.
My thanks to Little, Brown Book Group UK and Orbit for providing the DRC of A Letter from the Lonesome Shore via NetGalley. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.
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