A dark fairytale with gripping intrigue and a sapphic romance that doesn’t quite land.
Feature image credit: Pan Macmillan Australia
Debut author Maddie Martinez creates a world of religious oppression, forbidden magic, and sapphic romance. The Maiden and Her Monster follows Malka, a girl struggling to keep her family safe while her community is oppressed by the powerful Ozmini Church. When her mother is accused of murder, Malka makes the bold decision to go into the dangerous Mavetéh forest to prove to her mother’s accusers that the monster that resides there is real and the one responsible for the crime. What follows is a twisting tale of monsters who are not what they seem, political intrigue, and the lengths to which Malka will go to save her mother.
The world is heavily inspired by Jewish history and culture, with the Yahadi people oppressed for their religion. The magic added to this world feels like a natural flow-on from the religion, and the element of magic turning sour is interesting and adds a touch of danger to every moment. The political intrigue that thickens throughout the second half of the story is also well-developed and comes to an exciting climax towards the end.
The story has some really striking moments, particularly in the dramatic climax, but there are a few issues that jolt the reader out of the narrative at times, both in the worldbuilding and the storytelling.
The only element of this worldbuilding that was difficult to follow was the naming of things, people, and places. Most names include diacritics, but there is no glossary or pronunciation guide. Unless you have a comprehensive knowledge of how to pronounce these symbols it was very difficult to know how to pronounce many of the names.
Malka is a likeable character. She has a strong sense of morality and a fierce love for her family, but she is neither a fighter nor otherwise a stereotypical strong female character. Her physical weakness makes her fight through difficult situations more interesting, and it’s easy to care about her. Likewise Nimrah, a golem woman who seems to be half stone, half flesh, is shown to struggle with an internal battle between what she was made to do, what she wants, and her own sense of self-worth. Most of the secondary characters also have an authentic voice.
While it’s great that we are seeing more non-stereotyped representation of same-sex relationships in fiction, the placement of this sapphic romance within this particular cultural worldbuilding did not feel authentic. Malka’s culture seems very patriarchal, with traditional gender roles within families (men as providers and women maintaining domestic duties), all those in positions of power being male, and not a single non-heterosexual relationship shown other than that between Malka and Nimrah. Yet, this relationship is accepted by friends and family without question. The fact that there’s no acknowledgement that it’s unusual in this fantasy world, or even an acknowledgement of the fact that Nimrah isn’t human, feels highly unrealistic.
The other element that drew me away from the story at times were inconsistencies in action. For example, a character might pick up ‘the knife,’ except the knife had never before been mentioned and there was no indication of where it came from. This kind of thing happened a few times, and should have been picked up in the editing process.
Although there are a few elements of the story that seem to have been glossed over or that feel unfinished, the overall plot and the high stakes of Malka’s plight made this an interesting read, particularly towards the end as all the loose ends came together.
Reviewed by Kristin Stefanoff
The views expressed in this review belong to the author and not Glam Adelaide, its affiliates, or employees.
Distributed by: Pan Macmillan Australia
Released: Sept 2025
RRP: $34.99
