Ratings1
Average rating4
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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I read a Beta copy of this—but a late-stage one, I think—so not a lot will have changed between what I read and what you’ll hopefully read. Still, there’s a chance that some things will have improved by the time you get to it.
This is a cozy fantasy, and as holds true for most of them, the plot could be summarized in a sentence or two. So I’m going to try to do that in a way that leaves some mystery.
Jacob is the son of one of the wealthiest businessmen in the Archipelago*, and is being pressured to join the family business, groomed to take it over, and so on. But he wants his own life. He wants something more than just carrying on his father’s work. Possibly even adventure. A life at sea perhaps?
* Yes, it takes place in the same world as the Azure Archipelago series, but it’s independent of that series and you don’t need to know anything about it to read this.
He’s dissuaded from pursuing that by someone he respects and looks for a new way to establish his own path. While doing so, he stops by a quiet pub in the city he’s visiting for a drink. While there the owner (mostly) jokingly offers to sell him the place. After thinking it over a bit, Jacob does that.
The bar is named for its resident capybara—Mrs. Covington—at sea, the capybara is supposed to bring good luck. She hasn’t seemed to do much for the pub yet, but maybe soon.
The first thing he has to do is find a way to make a profit—he offers the two employees there (a human, Tadrick, and a cigupa, Cora) full partnerships if they help him get this place in shape. Together they come up with a new business plan, redecorate, and start to devise new ways of bringing in customers (not all at once and not necessarily in that order, but I’m trying to summarize). The other thing Jacob does is befriend his neighbor, a widowed faun trying to raise two children and run a restaurant.
These four become friends and start to collaborate in a handful of ways.
When he bought Mrs. Covington’s, Jacob also received the parchment describing a local treasure hunt that belonged to the pub. People have been looking for the treasure for a while, and there’s no reason to think that Jacob and his new friends will have more success than anyone else. But like Wade Watts and his chums, they might as well try, right?
There are plenty of romantic relationships in this book, but none of them are the focus (as much as Cora’s parents try to steal focus with theirs). There’s even a nice past romance and the promise of a potential future one by the end of the book. But the relationships between the core characters are entirely platonic.
I don’t mind romantic stories or arcs—I think they’re a great way to show character, develop character, advance a plot, etc. But a good platonic friendship is one of those things that I admire more and more all the time—particularly between people who’d likely be coupled up in other books.
If the studies and stories I read hold true, friendships between adults are less and less common, and (American, at least) adults are more and more lonely and isolated. So maybe books about good friends are a new form of aspiration/fantasy? We don’t need to read books about swooning over someone we fancy anymore, just stories about falling into deep like?
Whatever lies at the root of it—I liked these friendships. All of them—the mutual support and encouragement in whatever configurations of characters were solid. Mrs. Covington’s sounds like a great place to hang out—maybe if you can’t hang out there with your own friends, reading about others doing it is a handy substitute?
Something I should’ve mentioned in my beta feedback are the Interludes.* Three times we walk away from the story to get a glimpse of what’s going on with good old Mrs. Covington.
* Whoops. Sorry, K.R.R.! I’ll make it up to you next time.
These don’t advance the plot, give insight into the other characters, or anything like that—I’m not even sure they give insight into Mrs. Covington, because that would require a level of self-awareness that the rodent doesn’t seem to possess.
They are simply interludes. Nice, short, and quiet breaks from the novel. They’re the literary equivalent of taking a brief break to watch nature videos on Youtube or something. I’m just theorizing here, but it wouldn’t surprise me to find that they’re largely inspired by Lockhaven taking writing breaks to watch capybara videos.
I’m not sure why I used the term “quiet” there, it’s not like I’m talking about an audiobook here, but it fits. I guess it felt to me like there’s a film score playing quietly in the background (except when the band, Bilge Rat, is performing), and then the music dies for these interludes and all you get is crickets in the background or the sound of birds in the distance.
I’ve spent far more time than I originally intended to trying to describe the effect of these breaks. All I meant to say is that they’re an unexpected (unless you just read this) and thoroughly pleasant little addition to this book—and the kind of thing that most authors wouldn’t have thought to throw in.
I doubt that Lockhaven would be able to find enough of a story to justify a novella or novel along these lines. But a collection of scenes/episodes/random days in the life of the titular capybara would be something I’d jump on and probably return to often. Especially if he could get a great illustrator on board.*
* There’s your next Kickstarter, K.R.R. You’re welcome. Maybe this evens the score?
I joked earlier about the plot being minimal—although it’s true. That’s not to say that the plot is inconsequential or bland. It’s a fun little story–Treasure Hunts have been a tried and true story engine since at least the time when Jason and his pals went on that cruise. And who can’t relate to a group of friends coming together to build something special? There’s enough plot to get your teeth into even while it’s not likely to be what you focus on.
I’ve made it this far and haven’t even talked about the villain of the piece. Ugh. You can tell how much importance I put on him. Think Charles Durning’s Doc Hopper from The Muppet Movie or Chris Cooper’s Tex Richman from The Muppets, or a good number of the men behind the masks in the original Scooby-Doo series. I’m not sure why I’m stuck on examples like them instead of something more highbrow, but that’s the frame of mind I’m in. He’s mean (actually, I don’t think he cares enough to be mean…maybe spiteful?), he’s power- and money-hungry, and doesn’t like anyone not acceding to his whims. He’s perfect for this story—and not that important ultimately. Yes, he’s standing in the friends’ way, so they have to do something—but he’s not as present as other obstacles.
I do have some quibbles about the timing of some of the elements. I think some of the relationships develop too quickly, and I wonder about the timeline for a couple of things. I don’t know if Lockhaven’s able to massage that a bit before the final version comes out, but I do think it needs some tweaking. That said—they’re only quibbles. I liked where every relationship went, how they developed, and so on. And all the events that happen too suddenly for my comfort? I enjoyed them all and understand why he put them where he did. So ultimately, I don’t care if that kind of thing works well because I enjoyed the results. To paraphrase Joel Hogson, “repeat to yourself, “It’s just a book, I should really just relax.”
And it’s easy to relax with this book—because it’s such a pleasant, comfy atmosphere. A treasure hunt with the staff of the friendliest bar this side of Cheers! might be the plot of this cozy fantasy novel. But the book’s core is kindness, community, optimism, and helping. Brought to you in a great fantasy world with a light and engaging voice, Mrs. Covington’s will leave you snug and content.
The book delivers on what it promises—comfort. Warm fuzzies. Kindness. Good times. It’ll brighten your day, and make the world feel like a better place for a bit.
Read it when you can.
Originally posted at irresponsiblereader.com.