Splinters of Scarlet is the latest standalone from Emily Bain Murphy and many have deemed it ‘Downton Abbey with magic’ and you know what? That’s pretty accurate. This book has a vast array of characters that showcase the upstairs/downstairs divide commonly found in the 19th and early 20th centuries. This is a story that focuses on Marit Olsen, an orphan with a magical ability that allows her to excel as a seamstress. This isn’t a story about the rich and famous and that’s something I really came to enjoy as I read. The charismatic and cynical outlook from all the servants in the manor reminded me a lot of why I loved Downton Abbey. With their cynical and sarcastic humour that comes with the rich versus poor mentality produces a witty charm that instantly had me entranced.
I’ve been drawn to fairytales ever since I can remember and so every time I stumble upon a book inspired by them, I’m a moth to a flame. Splinters of Scarlet drew me in by the mentions of Downton Abbey, but I got hooked on this book as Hans Christian Andersen’s fairytales started to emerge in the story. His tales are known to be much darker than those we read to our children and that makes them perfect for this story.
“I can’t help but wonder, as I always do when I hear this story, if it was inspired somehow by magic. Maybe Hans Christian Andersen heard about the Firn and made this story, writing a happy ending for us even if we can’t in real life.”
Marit’s life is far from perfect. Her whole life is shrouded in this downward spiral, first with her father being killed and then again when her sister dies from the very magic also running through her veins. It’s a tragic tale and Andersen’s work was well-suited to this darker, 19th century Denmark setting. I also appreciated Murphy’s explanation of the Danish culture. Other novels set in Denmark that I’ve read haven’t explained some of their foreign terms and slang and I was glad that Murphy did as it really helped immerse me into this unfamiliar culture.
“The best stories are always spun around a kernel of truth,’ Helene says. ‘Sometimes it seems like the world has all sorts of glass splinters in its eye. And I want to change that.”
Another similarity between this book and Downton Abbey is the progressiveness of the rich. Helene reminded me a lot of Cora, the lady of the house in the television show, as she respects the staff without taking advantage of her status and power. Helene is the sole person in charge at the manor and she builds it upon mutual respect. The divide between classes isn’t prominent at all between her and the servants and it was a refreshing direction to this depressing setting. Her compassion towards Eve was another great feature to show her true character because I appreciated this turn of events for Eve and their bonding over ballet was beautiful. They just clicked. Nothing came between them, not Eve’s skin colour that would most likely hold her back from being a dancer and not the fact that she shared no blood with her adoptive mother. Helene saw Eve through her dancing and that’s what brought them together. It was raw, emotional, and moving.
There’s an understated, reserved kind of romance that forms between Marit and Jakob which slowly burns over the course of the story. It’s not the focus but it seemed to flow as the plot progressed because they became allies, friends, then lovers. It had a natural progression that made sense with where the plot was heading and the scenes that these two shared.
“Jakob, is one of your ideas being bled by leeches? Oh, for the love of figs, please don’t let that be the cure. Can’t you just invent some nice flavoured medicine for us?’
‘Oh, yes, Liljan, while I’m saving your life, I’ll try to make sure it tastes good,’ Jakob says sarcastically.’
‘And Jakob,’ she says, batting her eyelashes. ‘When the time comes…my favourite flavour is licorice.”
Jakob and Liljan had a great, relatable brother and sister relationship that was incredibly spot on. I’m the third child out of four and to me, what Jakob and Liljan had was like my older brother and me. They would banter back and forth, a battle of wits but it’s always light and humour filled. Murphy captured this dynamic perfectly while still maintaining the vast differences between the two characters’ personalities. The same goes with Brock and Ivy (another brother/sister pairing) as they were definitely different personalities, but still seemed to get along really well. Murphy impressed me with her writing and then when I saw these relationships being formed I was impressed all over again. These are real, honest snapshots into a familial bond that’s been executed with perfection.
Marit’s ability to sew clothes didn’t seem all that special at first, just like ballet, I’m not an expert on sewing so for me it was hard to see how I could get into the story and really resonate with the main character. However, after the idea of Andersen’s fairy tale, The Snow Queen emerged as the story her father raised her up on, my curiosity peaked. With all the tragedy going on in the plot and how early it starts, I wasn’t sure how I would connect to her losses (having not been given the scenes within the story to know how she felt in the moment), Murphy did a very clever thing that tied Marit’s magical ability to the tragedy. She made her sew the memories of her loved ones within her clothes using Morse code in the stitching. Yes, it’s dark and certainly morbid but this story is exactly that. What really ties it in was that moment when she got close to Jakob and he ‘read’ her clothes that had her loved ones deaths written in just had me tearing up.
This was also a creative way for her and Eve to communicate to each other while they were divided in the manor. Like I said, this was hands down the cleverest idea I’ve ever read and it was the absolutely perfect way to communicate unseen while still fitting in the plot and setting of the book itself.
“For the first time in my life, I am not afraid of it. Perhaps because I willingly chose it—and because choosing it meant someone else is going to live—for the first time, maybe I could actually even find the Firn beautiful.”
To me, this screams a story that’s gone full circle. Like most fairytales, this story concludes with a lesson learned that ties in with the original beginning of the story. Murphy wrapped this story up completely and in a way that was satisfying as it was realistic to the plot and its characters. There was death and tragedy, but then there was also love and new stories of growth. I loved everything to do with Splinters of Scarlet and I highly recommend this dark, Snow Queen inspired tale. It was incredible! Once again this book deserves all the stars!
Splinters of Scarlet is available from Amazon, Book Depository, and other good book retailers, like your local bookstore.
Will you be picking up Splinters of Scarlet? Tell us in the comments below!
Synopsis | Goodreads
A YA historical fantasy set in nineteenth-century Denmark, where secrets can kill and magic is a deadly gift.
For Marit Olsen, magic is all about strategy: it flows freely through her blood, but every use leaves behind a deadly, ice-like build-up within her veins called the Firn. Marit knows how dangerous it is to let too much Firn build up—after all, it killed her sister—and she has vowed never to use her thread magic. But when Eve, a fellow orphan whom Marit views like a little sister, is adopted by the wealthy Helene Vestergaard, Marit will do anything to stay by Eve’s side. She decides to risk the Firn and uses magic to secure a job as a seamstress in the Vestergaard household.
But Marit has a second, hidden agenda: her father died while working in the Vestergaards’ jewel mines—and it might not have been an accident. The closer Marit gets to the truth about the Vestergaard family, the more she realizes she and everyone she’s come to love are in danger. When she finds herself in the middle of a treacherous deception that goes all the way up to the king of Denmark, magic may be the only thing that can save her—if it doesn’t kill her first
