Humanity by and large is not a fan of things that go bump in the night.

Or for that matter the creatures we imagine dwell in the shadows or which don’t conform to our idea of what is normal and right; for an expansive, inquisitive species, we have a fatal tendency to stay within solidly-etched lines that scream solid and known parameters.

But in Cadwell Turnbull’s luminously imaginative novel No Gods, No Monsters, people have no choice but to face up to the fact that the stuff of their nightmares – their ill-informed nightmares it must be noted because the “monsters” of the book are not all monstrous or worthy of fear and loathing – as they begin to come out of the shadows and the places between realities and make their presence known.

Turnbull never actually comes out and says exactly why the werewolves, shapeshifters and dragons think they are safer out in the light and the known spaces that in the hiding places that have served them well for millennia, but it is intimated that something is lurking in the darkness that is heinous and awful that the monsters, such as they are, feel safer in the harsh light of bigotry and hatred than in their traditionally favoured boltholes.

There should be unsettling and it is for many people who resort to lashing out and striking back rather than seeking to broaden their understanding of the complicated complexity of life which does always take the forms we expect. (Example A are the bizarre creatures that lurk in the depths of our oceans; they don’t appear like anything we know and yet they are just as valid an expression of life as any other.)

In a storyline that is wildly, brilliantly imaginative and yet grounded in nuanced layers and an intimate understanding of the confounding contrariness of the human condition, Turnbull seeks to expose the dark underbelly of society and, no, it does not necessarily belong to the world of monsters, though some genuinely evil terrors do indeed reside there.

No, the underbelly in question sits firmly and squarely in the realm of bog standard Homo Sapiens, many of whom see the emergence of these once-fantastical creatures as some sort of declaration of war on the so-called certainties of the world around them.

The truth is, as Turnbull beautifully and affectingly evokes through the stories of a number of interconnected people, is that what we accept as normal and known sits firmly within the often limiting confines of our perceptions.

Even when we see the truth and hidden wonders of the world, there are many among us who prefer to tell themselves them imagined it all or that they thought it all up in a moment of madness.

This happens again and again in No Gods, No Monsters and takes place even when footage has gone viral and, you would think, there can be no arguing back from the truth of what the eye has seen and the heart now knows to be true.

The brilliance of No Gods, No Monsters, which is written so achingly and intimately beautifully that you are immersed in its gently powerful narrative within words of its opening, is that it tells its explosive story, not in overwrought narrative punctuation points, awash in hysteria and melodrama, but in the quiet stories of its characters.

Laina is the first of the many compelling people we meet in the book, a young woman involved in an open relationship with husband Ridley and girlfriend Rebecca who has to grapple with the violent shooting death of her junkie brother by police.

In and of itself that would be catastrophically traumatic but as she watches the video of her brother’s last moments, she is struck by a strangeness so palpable and powerful that it upends everything she ever thought she knew about life.

She reacts relatively positively to the shredding of the certainties of life she once held to, but others are not so fortunate and No Gods, No Monsters goes between those who deal well with the shadows coming alive and sending their inhabitants out into the light, and those who do not and are caught in secret societies dedicated to ending the “threat” of the monsters within and without.

It is a revelatory exploration of the way people react to unexpected and unsettling change because Turnbull isn’t content to lay everything out in stark black and white; here in No Gods, No Monsters are authentically complex tales of the good and the bad in humanity and an intelligent questioning who the real monsters are in this story.

Its narrative hangs together in a wholly unique way with No Gods, No Monsters switching times and tenses, diving in and out of our world into fantastical realms between worlds – the multiverse makes an appearance and it’s cleverly handled – all while telling a tale through the eyes of wholly disparate group of people.

The only downside to what is just about every way a breath of fresh air in the urban fantasy genre is that we are only able to spend limited amounts of time with a sprawling cast of characters; however, this is ameliorated to a reasonably satisfying degree by the interconnectedness between this vast assemblage of characters.

In the end, while the characters matter and Turnbull realises them in way that make them memorable, what really comes to the fore in No Gods, No Monsters is how much we lie to ourselves about what matters to us, what we want from life and what we would be willing to accept if all our understanding of how life is were slowly but surely blown to smithereens.

This is a novel that has a huge amount of explosively impacting things to say but which does it in a slow-building way that allows you time to understand the people involved, the sheer scale of what they are confronting, and the enormity of what is happening to society.

Richly emotionally resonant, fantastically clever and sublimely, affectingly well written, No Gods, No Monsters is a compellingly poetical but brutal tale of how humanity in all its diversity (and it embraces queerness and a host of other divergences from the main with a passion) talks a big game of curiosity and thoughtful endeavour but how often falls over the feet of its own prejudices and flawed perceptions with much work remaining before we can truly say we have lived up to our potential to embrace life in all its wondrous multiplicity of expression and exuberance of possibility.

I started this book about about seven thirty this evening. It's just shortly after midnight, and I don't even know how to begin describing the journey I've just taken. I find myself bereft and dissolving into comparatives--in some ways, the book feels so huge that I don't know where to start trying to analyze or break it down.

From the beginning, the precise yet evocative prose of NO GODS, NO MONSTERS elicits a hunger in you, each word firing off the pleasure centers in your brain. It was like sitting down to a resplendent meal while also starving, having to constantly balance wanting to forge ahead as quickly as possible while also being constantly aware that you should slow down and savor, because soon enough, the book will end. At some point, I realized I was actually hungry, but that I didn't want to stop to eat. It is the kind of book that makes you shove food in cold to avoid the distraction of turning away from its pages. The language alone is galaxy-wide and razor-sharp, an arresting poetry that made me think of Machado or Ocean Vuong.

In some ways, the book defies classification. It would fit neatly on any literary shelf, in philosophy, in fantasy, in science fiction. There are notes of body and cosmic horror that are so deliciously well-written I was reminded of the sickness I felt reading THE SOUTHERN BOOK CLUB'S GUIDE TO SLAYING VAMPIRES, gothic notes that would fit neatly in the work of Shirley Jackson. It leaps from person to person, genre to genre, each piece distinct and yet somehow miraculously cohesive, a perfect mosaic of a book.

When combined with the multiple POV structure, a series of baton passes that starts to twist tighter as the book progresses, I found that NO GODS, NO MONSTERS echoes some of the books I've cherished the most over the last several years--the rich characterization, nuanced relationships, and living, breathing settings of MAMA DAY, the dreamy weirdness and evocative language of Vandemeer, the massive, weaving structure of Naomi Alderman's THE POWER or Emily St. John Mandel's the THE GLASS HOTEL mixed with ROSEWATER. Like ANNIHILATION, each character is fully realized, full of complex history and deep, distinct interests. I could easily wander in the world Turnbull has created for years, I think.

This is my first time reading Turnbull's work, but I can guarantee it certainly won't be the last.

At once beautiful and visceral and a little bit terrifying, no Gods No Monsters is an amalgam of Science Fiction and paranormality. Touching and tender at all the right moments, but violent and horrific at all the other ones.

WARNING: LIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD!

In a not completely unbelievable near future, monsters have been discovered to be real. Werewolves, witches, vampires, psychics and so many other different kinds. Cabalistic societies on both sides trying to win their side of things. Some characters are extremely likeable, While others are easy to hate. Some you feel sorry for, and others get what they deserve.

This is one of the most interesting reads of the year so far. While it was a bit confusing at times to see who the narrator was and what it all meant, the interplay between characters and the building of the world in which they lived in was exquisitely well-defined.

Will I read the sequel? Just try and stop me! Now that I am into the story, there is no way I would miss how it all ends.

Thank you to Netgalley, Blackstone Publishing and Cadwell Turnbull for allowing me to read exceedingly interesting piece of fiction. All opinions are my own.

Trigger Warnings: Blood & Gore (but not in excess), Gun violence, Domestic abuse (implied)

DNF @ 55%. I found the constant change up of POVs very disjointed and difficult to follow, and trying to piece together the main plot and what was happening from scene to scene gave me a headache. It may be just because I'm busy with work that this didn't hit it for me, but I may try again in the future.

"What???" <- Me, approximately 12 chapters into Cadwell Turnbull's No Gods, No Monsters. Also me on the very last page of said book, just with a lot more distress that there was not more left to read.

NGNM hits on so much that I love about the sci fi genre: the collection of puzzle pieces becoming a full story; turning those who are usually marginalized or villianized into the hero; providing an "other" to make us examine how society views "others" in our world; and, more recently for the genre, telling these stories through the eyes of diverse, minority characters. Turnbull took all this and turned it up to 11. Not only are the monsters in his story actual monsters, but they are also Black and Latinx and queer and nonbinary - the "monsters" of society today. It's accomplished so easily in this book you'll wonder why all books don't have such a diverse cast of characters with such crazy and interesting storylines. But I get ahead of myself...

The book summary will have you think this story starts with the death of Laina's brother, but it doesn't. It actually starts with a miniature story before the story, with a character who is unnamed but who remains important throughout the book. Throughout the first half, we meet a broad cast of characters who, I admit, were a bit hard to keep track of for someone like me who is not good with names. I often found myself searching back through the book when a character was reintroduced in a different setting to make sure I was remembering them correctly. This jumping around does create the sense of putting together a puzzle, which I enjoy, but at times it did overwhelm. However, when these stories finally came together, when the monsters and humans from the seemingly disparate stories crossed paths in one major scene, it was quite the climax!

Why, then, did I start and end the book confused? Because when the book ended, there was still so much left unanswered, and as many storylines still being setup as there were ones that were closed. It's clear from reading it that this is the first book in a series. It's also clear that it's a book that would gain from a re-read (which I fully intend to do). But if you're someone like me who loves stories that are strange and fantastical and wild, then this one is for you. Even with the confusion, I enjoyed the ride from beginning to end, and am eagerly awaiting the next book in this saga!

4.5 out of 5 stars

The title of this novel is so very appropriate, on many levels. It is a pun on the anarchist/activist slogan. However, when taken literally, it can also be read as a denial of gods and monsters, yet we find both within the pages of this book. There is a lot going on and readers will perhaps, if not most definitely, need to read it at least twice to understand its nuances!

No Gods, No Monsters features a gigantic cast of characters. It is actually written in present-tense first-person, though you wouldn’t know that at first. At first it seems like you’re reading a collection of short stories linked only by an event at the beginning of the book: this one is written in past-tense third-person, that one in present-tense third-person, but, oh wait, was that first-person line in the present-tense an accident? Not at all! There is one narrator to this tale, throughout. This narrator focuses on other characters at times, and reflects on their pasts, and that is where I got confused at first. But it is actually quite masterfully done, once you understand why.

The characters are all fabulously deep and real. Their life stories and ambitions are genuine, not prettied up for the sake of fantasy; even urban fantasy, which I would say is the best genre expectation to enter this novel with. The setting is modern, the dilemmas the characters face are urban and societal. Then comes the urban fantasy. Thar be monsters, after all--but exactly what or who the monsters are is one of the leading questions of the story. The cast of characters has as many layers as the title of the novel itself, if not more. And they are, perhaps, the most racially and gender/sexually diverse cast I’ve ever read. “My wife’s girlfriend,” said by an asexual trans man to his best friend Marcus who he once loved is only one example of the complex characters that leap out of these pages. All of the characters, straight, LGBTQ+, black, white, multi-racial, friends, family, strangers, and more are delivered in a way that is relatable and human. Not a single one is a stereotype. Monsters and magic aside, you really feel like you're reading about real people. Turnbull shows a great depth of understanding people from different walks of life in his writing, and exposes them in layers so that the deeper you go, the more you can relate to them.

Unfortunately, like a relationship that doesn't quite work out, I was about halfway through this book before I realized I was being unfair to us both and broke up. "It's not you, it's me," as the old adage goes. There was too much going on for me to keep up with. With a little over half the book under my belt, I felt I should have had a better connection to the main characters, or at least have understood who the main characters are and what they are up against. But I didn’t, and that’s possibly a result of me not being able to sit down and read the whole thing in one go. Every time I picked the book up I had to figure out where I was and who was who again. Turnbull is a masterful writer, that much goes without saying. Maybe I’ll revisit this one in the future. Maybe not. I’m told that if you can make it past the halfway mark, you’ll love it. I was certainly intrigued by everything leading up to the halfway mark, but there found I could go no further. Reading had become work for me, and I prefer reading that is fun.

The all too real topics this book addresses and the themes expressed within its pages are heavy, make no mistake. But it is a well-written novel that I think will appeal to people who enjoy complex plots and expositions of the human condition sprinkled with the possibility of magic being real. Is magic still magical if it’s real? That’s one question of many that No Gods, No Monsters had me chewing on. There’s very little by way of mainstream entertainment to compare this work to. It’s truly a standout piece.

What did you think of No Gods, No Monsters? To join my book discussion and see my other reviews, please check out http://whitemeadowbooks.com/

No Gods, No Monsters was absolutely incredible. It is a book you definitely have to pay attention to. The narration switches perspectives and jumps around, but not without purpose. As an urban fantasy, the world feels grounded and helps you connect with what's happening, but not so much as to be boring. No Gods, No Monsters also deals with themes and parallels relevant to our current society, and is much needed today. Overall, this book is a fantastic read!

Somewhat confusing read. Appreciated the overall storyline and sentiment, but plot and characters were difficult to track, so the depth of what I think was being communicated got lost. Well-written, and perhaps smarter readers will enjoy more.

It starts off slow and kind of dense, but once the action begins, it's hard to resist the story as it drives forward. It reads as a true epic, one that makes you feel the world really has been reshaped as you read it. Would recommend.

Again, we need a .5 star system! I would give this book 3.5 stars. When I read the description of "No Gods, No Monsters" on the book jacket, I immediately I knew I was in for a thought provoking, unique book.

When Laina gets word that her brother has been killed by police, she is mysteriously sent body cam footage of her brothers death. What seems like a incident of police brutality, ends up being much more bizarre. Monsters are real. They are ready to let the world know they are here, but the question is: is the world ready?

"No Gods, No Monsters" is a beautifully written book. Author Cadwell Turnbull's writing seems effortless but it packs a punch. The structure of this book introduces you to several different characters coming to terms with the appearance of monsters. As the book goes on we start to see these character's stories start to intermingle and collide. With so much attention given to each character POV, at times the book does feel like a bunch of short stories with a common theme, yet the action flows so smoothly between each POV. And every POV/section is written so well; they are enthralling and entertaining.

One thing I greatly enjoyed about this book, is the representation. You have characters of all ethnicities (and species), you have LGBTQ representation, characters from different socio economic backgrounds, and geographical locations. Turnbull does an excellent job at giving all these characters unique and authentic voices, and incorporating parts of their identities into their storylines.

I especially liked how Turnbull used society's treatment of the monsters, as well as the monster's self acceptance, as a critique of current events in our own society. It was subtle, yet I also picked up on it right away and it got me thinking. Which is one of the things I love about reading; it not only lets me escape but also analyze the situations and events in my own life, my own community. "No Gods, No Monsters" for sure is a book to get you thinking, but also allows you to escape in a new twist on the monster novel.

I would recommend this book to my fellow readers! Thank you to Net Galley and Blackstone Publishing for giving me an advanced copy of the book.

Many thanks to Blackstone Publishing and NetGalley for the advanced copy!

What did I just read? I am so confused, but in a good way? The writing of this is impeccable. I plan to re-read this once I can get my hands on a hard copy. I loved each of the characters, but found myself drawn to the Calvin / Laina stories. The LGBTQ+ and POC representative in this was incredible. This definitely read like the first book in a series and I look forward to what is next.

HIGHLIGHTS
~the conspiracy theorists are right (maybe)
~tech magic
~’I have never answered that question’
~a loving open relationship
~Dragon
~anarchists have the best bookshops
~skins are sometimes optional

I read this in two sittings, and it would have been one if I didn’t have to sleep. I pushed through the first few pages, which seemed to have nothing to do with the story promised by the blurb…and then I was completely hooked. No Gods, No Monsters was a book I resented having to put down, and I expect a lot of other people are going to feel the same way when they get it in their hands.

It’s not quite like anything I’ve ever read before.

Part of that is the structure: the book is divided into multiple parts, all of which are quite short, each of which is from the perspective of a different character. As the book goes on, the connections between these characters become clearer – several of them know each other – but here’s the thing: the first part, the opening that I found so confusing? That’s written in first-person. The rest are in third.

That’s not the weird thing.

The weird thing is that the first part, the first-person part, is pretty banal. It doesn’t seem to have anything to do with anything. It’s only when we get to the second part, Laina’s part, that what seems like the story gets moving.

Laina’s brother has been shot and killed by the police. Turnbull sketches out the devastating grief, the disorientation and numbness and rage that come in the aftermath, with brutal precision. The prose is bare of ornamentation, almost bluntly so, until a shift in perspective – the perfect word, a poignant line – makes it clear that Turnbell writes as if wielding a scalpel in a surgery; precise, economical, and cutting through the meat right into the core. It’s a style that hooks you in and doesn’t let you go again, which is perfect for so many reasons, but most of all because that’s exactly what’s happening to the characters – they’re all being hooked in, dragged in, and not let go again.

Here and there within Laina’s part of the book – which is written in third-person, remember – is an occasional ‘I’ sentence. A line or two in first-person, in a voice that is clearly not Laina’s. There is no explanation for this. I was scribbling notes as I read, and surrounded in question marks were my theories invisible friend??? split personality??? something supernatural following her around???

Then Laina is approached by a voice. Not in her head, but somewhere in her dark bedroom. The voice asks if Laina wants the body-cam footage of her brother’s killing. Laina decides that she does. The voice promises to have it delivered to her.

And then the first-person occasional-narrator voice reaches out to the Other Voice. Still in Laina’s part of the book, but separate from Laina, outside of her.

It is here that I stop time. The world around us slows, all matter falls still, and all sound stops. There is only the voice and me. I reach out to the formless thing, trying to access its mind but finding nothing. In all my time traveling the fractal sea, this has never happened. Minds are always open to me.

“What are you?” I ask directly. “What is this?”

For a terrible moment, the voice doesn’t answer, and for the first time, I feel a sense of danger I’ve never thought to feel.

“I’ve signed a contract,” it finally says. “I am bound not to speak to you.”

“By whom?”

“The universe,” it says.

And the voice answers no more of my questions.

What. The. Hell.

The body-cam footage appears, mysteriously. As you’ve probably worked out from the blurb, it reveals that Laina’s estranged brother was a werewolf.

Werewolves are a thing now.

But of course, it’s not nearly that simple. Even after a pack of werewolves ‘come out of the broom closet’, people are quick to call it a hoax. Nobody publicly announces that they now believe in the supernatural…but the event sends quiet shockwaves through society anyway. People start being attacked, even killed, for being suspected witches or werewolves or anything else hateful people can dream up. We follow another character as he goes down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theories and secret societies…which ends nowhere good.

That’s actually where some of the pieces…not come together, but maybe start hinting that they might, possibly, at some undetermined time in the future, come together. We get glimpses of different factions, different groups of supernatural creatures (who call themselves ‘monsters’ in a way that’s very reminiscent – probably deliberately – of people calling themselves/using the label of queer). There’s a suggestion that some of these groups have agendas, but the problem – I think the biggest problem with this book – is that we don’t really have a clue what those agendas are.

Here’s the thing: Turnbull has great characters, great prose, and what looks like some seriously unique and interesting worldbuilding. The problem is that No Gods, No Monsters feels like the first half of the first book in a series, rather than a whole book in and of itself. Of course not all of our questions were going to be answered in book one – that’s a given. But NGNM leaves you feeling like you don’t even know all the questions yet. The plot, if there is one, is barely hinted at, sketched out so lightly that even if you squint, you can’t make out its shape. In some ways, that makes it feel more real – real life doesn’t have a neat plot that builds to an arc-ending climax before we start the next book arc, so maybe it doesn’t make sense to write fiction that way, especially when you want it to feel more like life than fiction.

On the other hand, even if that was Turnbull’s intent, I think it’s taken too far. I don’t mind a looser plot, but I finished this book and realised I had no clue what was going on. We know that there are werewolves, and a few other kinds of monster, but the shape of the supernatural world is barely hinted at – all we get are tantalising, frustrating bits and pieces that promise that whatever we’re picturing, it’s bigger and weirder than that. No Gods, No Monsters ends up feeling like a drawn-out prologue more than it does a finished novel.

That being said… I didn’t really care. The writing is good enough that, as I said, I couldn’t put this book down, and I kept turning the pages even when it became obvious that there weren’t enough pages left for Turnbull to explain wtf. I already want to pick it up and read it again, even knowing that my questions won’t be answered. And then there’s the ways Turnbull juxtaposes monstrousness with race and queerness; the thread of anarchist philosophy and practice running through the narrative; the wry, self-aware dark humour; and the sheer originality of the magic and monsters we do get to see.

So yes, I think you should read it. You should read it because it’s amazing, and it’s the start of what’s clearly going to be an incredible series. And I may not know where it’s going, but fuck yes do I want to be along for the ride!

I generally love urban fantasy but this one was a bit convoluted even for me. The narrator was the thread that connected everything, able to watch and see and in different timelines (an entire section dedicated to this is actually fascinating) but everything didn't fully tie together for me. Open plot points (who is turning ppl into monsters like Rebecca and Lincoln and why) and why monsters were being tracked and how they align to Gods. Anyway, it was really well written and intriguing for that I give it a solid 3 stars.

Overall very good read. At times, the prose is a bit jumbled and bounces a bit in a manner that feels jagged but once you get used to how the storylines tie together the bouncing around makes more sense. The horror evoked in this sits with you, and there are moments where it’s a bit of a stretch tying our current realities to the horror found in the books. In less capable hands I think this would have been overly done. Great book.

this book reads like a book of fairytales. like the lesson, turnbull tells a compelling story where the science fiction element is a bridge into the characters' inner selves. he asks such great questions and keeps you wanting more. it's magical and bizarre in the best way. highly recommend.

I desperately wanted to enjoy this book. However, the vague timeline, the alternating perspectives...it just wasn't a book for me. The prose and the writing are electric. It was just a novel I had a hard time finishing.
This book might be for people who enjoy experimental storytelling. I myself enjoy some experimental storytelling.
I probably won't recommend this book, but there were some glimmers of great prose here that made it worthwhile in the end.

There's a lot of stuff going on and that works in and not in favor of the overall plot and message. The multiple and disjunctive POVs had my head spinning but there is no doubt about it -- Turnbull can write. 3 stars.

This was a rather unique novel that provided a wonderfully poignant conversation about marginalization and prejudice. From the premise, I expected this to be a straightforward and simple social commentary on race relations and police brutality in the United States. However, the story ended up being so much more nuanced. I was impressed how this novel provided such an excellent intersectional conversation about these complex issues. 

My favourite aspect of this novel was easily the character work. There was fantastic representation for queer and non white people. All of the people in this book felt flawed in a realistic way. I found myself identifying with several of the characters, even when I had not experienced the same personal struggles.

In terms of pacing, this novel is very slow, focusing on characters over plot. This was technically a piece of urban fantasy with mild horror, but read more like a literary piece of social commentary. I would have liked to learn more about the fantastical elements, but they were in the background of the story. I wished this one had a more narrative drive, yet I still enjoyed the reading experience for the most part. 

I would recommend this one to readers looking for an insightful exploration of the challenges that affect marginalized people in America today.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher.

This is a fun mystery set in a fun fantasy world. I enjoyed the characters and was interested in the plot, but some parts went over my head. It was generally well written and well plotted, but overall it felt a little disjointed and wasn't for me.

I don't read much fantasy, but I was interested in the book because I attended an online reading given by Cadwell Turnbull and was curious about his work. As other readers have noted, this book is complex, with a large cast of characters, various connections to current events and cultural change, a complicated magical system, variety of locations and events, etc. Complexity is good, though! I could see how adding a list of characters or other front matter might be helpful, but otherwise, I found the book engaging and am looking forward to the rest of the series. Thank you to NetGalley for the advance copy.