Caraway Auclair has devoted herself to protecting her brother, serving as the ship’s first mate and enforcer. Sacrificing nearly all she is to ensure that he becomes the most fearsome pirate Captain to ever sail the Carnelian Sea. She realizes too late, that the seas have only grown darker, and the waves more fearsome, they threaten to pull her under completely and mold her into something akin to a nightmare.
Caraway of the Sea, a new novel by Madeline Burget, is a welcome entry to the pirate fantasy/romance space. Billed as a ‘grim cozy pirate tale’, it promises slow-burn romance and lots of paranoia.
And boy does it deliver.
Caraway, our titular main character, is a young woman in a man’s world. Here, though she did hide herself as a man in events prior to the story, hiding as a man isn’t the main focus. People accept that she is a woman. But, that does not mean she is free from danger—far from it. Indeed, she is still the subject of violence, and in particular sexual violence. This is explored in some depth.
But Caraway is herself violent, and we get the sense that this is in some part because she is a woman. To keep herself safe, she has to present herself as someone not to be messed with. And this leads to many a brutal encounter. The action sequences are, indeed, brutal, and bloodthirsty readers will find enough swordplay and gore to satisfy.
The main focus is on Caraway’s fracturing relationship with her brother. He, as captain of their crew, is becoming increasingly paranoid and insecure, and she, as his protector, tries to prevent him from following a deadly and ruinous path. But events soon turn for the worse as she becomes the latest subject of his dark suspicions.
The story is interspersed with flashbacks, and this mostly works well, though there is one jarring revelation (which I won’t spoil) that made me question how it could take so long for Caraway to come to her eventual realisation. On reflection, it does speak to the nature of gaslighting and abuse in a fundamental way, and made me reevaluate Caraway as something of an unreliable narrator—she is slow to understand what becomes plain to the reader, and we watch her come around.
My one gripe is the overuse of Caraway recalling memories of things recently passed that the reader was not privy to. The emotional weight of such moments is underwhelming if we weren’t witness to the initial occurrence. This happens more at the start, and is in no way disruptive, but it is just one of those things that didn’t work for me. Perhaps things could have been sequenced differently, or some scenes added in place of others, that would have provided more coherence here.
Above all, the slow burn romance is done well. Enzo, the strong and handsome love interest, is a compelling counterpoint to Caraway, and his affection for her grows even as she is slow to understand her feelings towards him. We can empathise with her reluctance while still rooting for them—even if Enzo isn’t always trustworthy.
In all, this book is definitely a worthy contribution to the genre. And, it is the first in a series—I will be interested to see where Caraway adventures next…
Peter R. S. Thomas 