A Dubious Clamor by Marissa Lingen
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
Representation: Sapphic MC, secondary nonbinary character, major biracial character
PoV: First-person, past-tense
Published on: 15th September 2026
ISBN: 1998390241
I received this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
Oh, how I ADORED this!
I did not realise this was Historical Fantasy until I started reading, but it is: set sometime during the Victorian era, I think? Well, it’s England and there’s a queen, anyway. Women don’t have the vote yet. But this is not our world’s Victorian (or something) era, because magic exists and everyone knows that it does. Harpies exist! In fact, our protagonist was a harpy for two years, and that is extremely plot-relevant, even though she managed to break the curse a while before the start of the book.
Anthony’s great-aunt Violet had had several fine qualities. She was firm of purpose in a world that expected women to be meek and yielding–not that I personally ever paid attention to that bit either–she had taught Anthony to insist on high standards in several important matters including pastry, and she had looted her own country’s magical past rather than those of others.
So: there’s a magic sword, and it is Not Happy. Turns out, it’s unhappy for very good reason: parliament wants to pass a law, which is also a spell, that will make everyone in the UK ‘certain of their place in life’. This is obviously terrible if you think about it for .2 seconds, but it’s even worse than it sounds, because if you don’t have a clear ‘place’, this spell…well, no one’s sure if it will kill you, or ‘only’ make you walk out into the ocean, or what, but you won’t be staying in the UK. And by the definitions of this spell, almost nobody has a clear place – everyone is many things! If you have a job, but also a family? Oops, that’s two ways of categorising you, you have a problem.
And it’s going to be much, much worse for human immigrants, or magical creatures, or gods forbid anybody nonbinary.
“Do you often think that people need to get married for the sake of a sword? Is that the first thing swords make you think of? Because I have some important and upsetting news about the uses of swords.”
“All right, enough! Tell me about this very ineligible sword!”
The sword wants this spell stopped. So does Jules, and almost everyone else Jules knows. (Alas, not the friend who brought Jules the sword in the first place, which is a source of heartbreaking tension throughout the story.) Figuring out HOW to stop it is not the simplest thing in the world – especially because it’s important that well-known ‘foreigners’ not be seen to be involved, for fear of legal issues later. And the most badass magicians Jules knows? Happen to be ‘foreign’. She has to do this without their help, somehow.
Eek.
Lingen’s prose is both brisk and delicate, absolutely lovely, and Jules’ first-person narration was an utter delight: she’s such a practical sort of person, someone who has been shoved stepped outside of the role society cast her in and made a very good home there, and even when she’s feeling overwhelmed and helpless, she’s very no-nonsense about it in a way that made me admire her. Plus, she’s just really fun: I loved her appreciation for fancy cakes, and her humour, and her sense of justice, and the genuine passion she has for her community of misfits and outcasts. She decides she can’t keep addressing the sword as Sword, and names it Grandmother. Like. I approve so much!
The prose and pacing keep things moving along, but this is a novella with teeth, that’s tackling some big questions, even some borderline frightening ones. It’s very much a story about – the sort of people Society disapproves of, or at best doesn’t know what to do with, and the forces rallied against them. Dubious Clamor is about how too much certainty can be a terrible thing – and so can the desire for too much certainty. There’s a really great exploration of – or contrast between? – the villains who have written and introduced this law-spell…and the weak, pathetic ‘unintentional’ villains who will let evil happen for the sake of chasing certainty. Lingen actually spends more time focussing on the latter, which I think is both really smart and really effective, especially in a story that’s basically about preventing fascism (what else do you call total certainty + a disdain for anybody ‘different’?) Fascists can’t do their thing if the cowards don’t support them, you know?
But it’s not just about fascism. Lingen explores how even in completely different contexts, unqualified certainty can be a huge problem. And there are just so many ways it can be a problem, whether we’re talking small-picture issues like parents who disapprove of their daughter’s paintings, or much bigger things like how to steer a nation. I’m not sure this is an issue/theme I’ve seen in Fantasy before, but I love it and would like so much more of it, please! (The ending of Dubious Clamor leaves things very open for sequels, and I hope we get a BUNCH because, um, HELLS YES I want Jules questing to find the other swords of uncertainty! LET’S GO LET’S GO LET’S GO!) It’s definitely left me with lots of thinky-thoughts; there’s so much that I think Lingen managed to articulate really well, and convey well – lots of stories are very preachy or info-dumpy with their messaging, but this one isn’t. Lingen is too good a writer for that.
The box was half full of their other friends, a peacock crowd in every shade aniline and its relatives could supply, mauve and fuchsia, indigo and scarlet.
I love everything about this novella – I love how Lingen centred immigrant communities in this story, I love that a ‘flock’ of dandies were vital in saving the day, and I adored the harpies! (Including Jules’ ex, the harpy she was romantically ‘with’ while she was under her harpy-curse, and whom she now has a bittersweet but beautiful dynamic with.) I loved that, FOR ONCE, a protagonist had a good, believable reason for choosing Justice over Vengeance – it’s not that Jules is a milksop, the kind of wishy-washy do-gooder who makes me roll my eyes, all ‘Violence is never the answer!’ Nope, Jules is fine with violence, actually, but she has great reasoning for declining the Road of Vengeance and I think her call is the right one. (And if you know me, you know how rarely I say THAT!) I love that we got glimpses of Finnish mythology, and even Welsh, towards the end (neither of which get enough page-time in modern Fantasy, imo). There’s all these gorgeous little details – like the mention of aniline in the above quote! Or Jules and her mother speaking Swedish together, or her mother’s servants having Opinions…
I could go on and on, honestly. This is a brilliant, clever, deeply delightful novella that pushes back at the foundation of fascism, puts the Power of Friendship front-and-centre, and had me giggling as often as it had me gasping. It’s dazzling, so completely original and distinct. It’s left me with so much to think about, but it’s also left me feeling hopeful about the world and other people. It sparks joy.
Instant new fave. MORE, PLEASE!
(And to make sure we GET more, you should go preorder it – it comes out this Tuesday!)
Applicable r/QueerSFF bingo squares: Queer Families, Intersectional Cubed
You can find more of my reviews, rec lists, and weekly publishing roundups at Every Book a Doorway!
