This novel in verse is so beautifully written. It tells the story of two women one is Barbara Strozzi in 1600s Italy and the other is Lula in 2025 at a music conservatory in Boston. The way the two stories are interwoven and told through verse was amazing. I really enjoyed every minute of it

I loved the use of Venice and how Lula was used to tell the story and growth. I was hooked from the first page and was engaged with Lula's story. It had that magical element that I think of from Venice and was glad everything worked together to tell this storyline. I was glad everything worked overall and that the characters were realistic and glad I was able to read this. Colby Cedar Smith has a strong writing style and was invested in what was going on and how good the characters were.

Thank you Netgalley and Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers for the ARC in exchange for an honest review!

Colby Cedar Smith’s “The Siren and the Star” is a lush, lyrical novel-in-verse that brings together two stories of women separated by centuries, yet bound by music, trauma, and resilience into a powerful symphony of self-discovery and healing. Structured like an opera, complete with a chorus and alternating acts, the book offers a unique and captivating storytelling experience that combines historical fiction with contemporary coming-of-age themes.

The book follows Luciana “Lula” Gabroni, a gifted yet introverted music student at the New England Conservatory, and Barbara Strozzi, a real-life 17th-century Venetian composer and singer. After suffering a traumatic attack, Lula travels to Venice to perform in a prestigious festival and stumbles upon Barbara’s compositions in the school library. She soon feels an uncanny connection to this bold, brilliant woman of the past and that connection becomes the lifeline she needs to recover, reclaim her voice, and redefine her path.

Smith distinguishes her dual narrators with remarkable finesse. The verse shifts in tone and rhythm between the two characters where Lula’s voice feels compressed and anxious while Barbara’s flows freely with sensuality and poetic grace. The alternating perspectives are not only stylistically distinct, but thematically mirrored: both women battle against the suffocating expectations placed upon them, particularly by their mothers and by the societies that view them as ornamental or expendable.

The descriptions of Venice are exquisite, both in the modern and Renaissance timelines. From misty canals to opulent salons, the city is rendered with a painterly eye and an aching sense of timelessness. Smith’s writing is lush and immersive, with every page rich in atmosphere, emotion, and historical texture. Barbara’s world, in particular, is reminiscent of a feminist Cinderella tale—rising from illegitimacy to intellectual and musical acclaim, yet always shadowed by the cage of patriarchy.

Lula’s journey is equally affecting. Her battle with impostor syndrome, anxiety, and PTSD is portrayed with honesty and depth. Though she is shaken by violence, she is never reduced to her trauma. With the support of a found family and the power of Barbara’s music, she begins a gradual and inspiring path toward healing. The story doesn’t shy away from difficult topics (trigger warnings for physical violence and attempted assault) but it treats them with sensitivity, using them to underscore the importance of reclaiming voice and agency.

And at the heart of the novel is music, which is vivid, vibrant, and magical. Smith doesn’t just write about music; she writes music. The verse pulses with rhythm and melody, capturing both the beauty of song and the emotional truths it can express when words fall short.

Overall, “The Siren and the Star” is a haunting, gorgeous tribute to the voices of women both remembered and forgotten and how art can transcend time to connect us, inspire us, and save us. This is a masterful novel-in-verse that harmonizes past and present into a breathtaking aria of womanhood, creativity, and healing and is a book that sings.