Review: Shadows on the Moon, by Zoë Marriott

Suzume lives a life of pleasure and comfort - when her mother's not around to scold her, anyway - until the day the Prince's men come to her home. Branded a traitor, her father is killed, along with her cousin and their household. Suzume survives through the kindness of an old servant, Youta, and and her own unknown shadow weaving powers. Suzume can weave shadows into any shapes she wants; she can literally become anyone she wishes to be.

But this power does not help her. Hounded from her stepfather's house, she drudges in his kitchen, unknown to him, hiding among the shadows. An act of revenge takes even that small shelter from her and she is forced to run into the city. Only one man in the country can save her; the Moon Prince. Only by becoming his consort can she lift the label of traitor from her family name.

There's only one obstacle. Otieno. The shadow weaving boy whose life seems intertwined with hers. To gain her revenge, to reclaim her name, Suzume must reject him. And time is running out...



First of all; this book is for older teens. It is a retelling of Cinderella, loosely, but this is no children's fairy tale. It covers, among other things, murder, self harm and becoming a courtesan.

With that out of the way, this is also a beautiful, lyrical story. It's deeply embedded in Japan's feudal past, but not so much that it becomes impenetrable. Suzume is a fascinating character - a heroine whose deepest desire is to commit murder in the name of revenge? But it works here. You really want Suzume to succeed. Her allies are fascinating - Youta was my favourite, as you can never quite tell what his intentions are.

A fascinating, beautiful book, one I'll happily reread for many years to come.



     An overwhelming surge of anger crashed through me, bursting in my head and chest and limbs until I stood up straight, vibrating with it. My body still trembled, but the fear  – that fear which had choked me for so long – was gone. 

      They had done this to me. They were liars. Traitors, cowards and murderers, and yet I was running from them. They had killed my father. They had killed my cousin, the sister of my heart. They had taken everything – everything – from me.

     Why had I run?

     What did I have left to lose?

     I knew then that I would die that night. I did not care. I would die, but I would make them suffer first. I dropped to my knees, scrabbling in the dirt of the herb garden for the sharp fragments of stone that edged the borders. I would have used anything. Any weapon was good enough. I felt as if I could tear out my enemy's throat with my teeth, if only I could get close enough.

     I would wait, here in the dark, hidden from everyone. The only one who could see me was Terayama–san. He would find me, and when he did, I would not run. I would not give him the satisfaction. I would let my weaving fall, and I would scream out the truth fopr everyone to hear. When he reached me I would put out his eyes.

     For my father. For Aimi. For myself. For all of us.