Review of Wearing the Lion by John
There are books that entertain, and then there are those that reach right into your soul, and for me, Wearing the Lion by John is undoubtedly the latter. Having already been captivated by John’s previous work, Someone You Can Build a Nest In, I dove into this new release with eager anticipation. Little did I know, it would resonate even deeper, solidifying John’s place as my favorite author.
From the moment you step into the world of Wearing the Lion, it’s clear that the stakes are higher, the emotions are raw, and the characters are crafted with a depth that many authors seem to miss. The juxtaposition of trauma and transformation is eloquently explored through the journeys of Hera and Heracles. John portrays them not merely as mythic figures but as deeply flawed beings striving for redemption and purpose. What I appreciated most was the insistence that healing isn’t passive. You can’t simply wish away your pain; you must confront it and take accountability for your actions. This theme is starkly evident when Hera, often portrayed as the quintessential vengeful goddess, invites you to root for her, reminding readers of the invisible burdens many carry.
John writes with an empathy that feels intimately personal. His prose flows seamlessly, allowing the reader to become enveloped in the narratives of his characters. There’s a remarkable pacing to the story—just when you think you’ve grasped their dilemmas, the narrative shifts, forcing both the characters and the readers to reckon with tougher truths. Each line feels deliberate, with wisdom interwoven in a way that lingers long after you’ve turned the final page.
Some particular lines had me reflecting deeply, especially as an animal rescuer: “If only I could spend the rest of my life soothing a creature.” That sentiment echoes the empathy I strive to extend to the beings in my care. And then there’s the profound truth that hit home: “I made you a tool when I should have made you loved.” In our daily lives, we often forget the importance of nurturing relationships over transactional ones. The simple reminder that “the self comes to us through others” encapsulated how intertwined our storytelling is with our lived experiences.
What remains etched in my memory is not just the development of Hera and Heracles but the vibrant community surrounding them. Their relationships evolve, becoming richer and more supportive, almost like a living organism. Even characters like Logy, Purrseus, and Athena left my heart warmed and challenged, demonstrating that growth often happens in the company of those we might underestimate.
Wearing the Lion isn’t just a retelling; it’s a call to action. John nudges us to recognize our collective responsibilities to one another. I honestly feel that anyone who has ever longed for connection, battled with their past, or simply craved a deeper understanding of their own humanity would find solace and inspiration in this narrative.
In conclusion, this book haunted me in the best possible way—its truths replaying in my mind, encouraging me to be better, to do better. John has a gift for weaving tales that are both timeless and timely, and I can’t help but feel grateful for his insights. I will cherish this book, and if you’re looking for something that challenges you to reflect on your own narratives while immersing you in an unforgettable world, I wholeheartedly recommend picking up Wearing the Lion. You may just find a piece of yourself nestled within its pages.