Book Review: The Ten Thousand Doors of January
I love it when fiction changes the way you look at the world.
I’m not usually a fan of fantasy adventure novels, but something about the blurb on Alix E. Harrow’s The Ten Thousand Doors of January drew me in. I decided to give it a go, and I’m so glad I did.
From the jacket: “In a sprawling mansion filled with peculiar treasures, January Scaller is a curiosity herself. As the ward of the wealthy Mr. Locke, she feels little different from the artifacts that decorate the halls: carefully maintained, largely ignored, and entirely out of place.
“Then she finds a strange book. A book that carries the scent of other worlds, and tells a tale of secret doors, of love, adventure, and danger. Each page turn reveals impossible truths about the world, and January discovers a story increasingly entwined with her own.”
It did draw me in, but it doesn’t do full justice to the tale contained within. It’s an edge-of-your-seat suspense based partly in this world and partly in others. It explores themes of racism, colonialism, and greed and how they intertwine.
Sometimes big adventures leave the characters one-dimensional, but Alix writes hers as fully-developed people with contradictory desires and fears to match their courage.
And the doors.
They lead to new worlds and new ideas. They lead to chaos and confusion, and they need to be protected.
I have Inflammatory Arthritis, and I’m taking part in a drug study. This gets me my meds for free, but it means that I have to participate in a certain amount of bureaucratic box-ticking.
While I was reading this book, the pharmacy that’s supplying my new meds called.
It was mostly bureaucratic nonsense, answering questions I’d already answered to the drug company and the doctor. Still, I have to put up with it, or I’m looking at paying $1300 a month. So an occasional intrusive phone call from an actually charming woman should be a small price to pay, right?
Except that, after I hung up, I was completely furious. I mean, I went back to washing the dishes, and the next thing I know, I’m swearing at the mixing bowl and trying to keep myself from throwing things across the room. It was only the thought of my neighbors in adjacent apartments hearing the crash and worrying about me that kept me from following through.
I hate being a patient. And I especially hate it when the patienting has to happen within the four walls of my home. This is supposed to be my safe space and having the world of medicine intrude here feels like it takes that safety away from me.
But then I remembered January and the doors.
They allow chaos to enter our world, but they also let us take ourselves into other worlds.
So maybe I can look on my phone as a sort of door? And instead of seeing it as allowing the unwelcome world of medicine to invade my apartment, I can look at it as a way of keeping it out. I can see myself as metaphysically entering their world for the length of time of a phone call, using my phone to bar entrance to my safe and cozy world.
I love it when a novel allows you to see your life in a new way. So often, these insights happen much more fluently through fiction than they do through a self-help book. I mean, if I had read somewhere “look on your phone both as a gateway to other worlds, and a protector of yours,” I likely would have dismissed it. But making that connection on my own? It totally worked.
Words in January’s world contain power and magic. Writing them down makes things happen. I think anyone who writes, anyone who loves reading will agree. Words are magic. They are powerful. The Ten Thousand Doors of January makes me want to wield their magic and power in my world and build newer, better worlds through my writing.
This is Alix E. Harrow’s first novel. I can’t wait to read her next one.
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