Review of Icarus by K. Ancrum
I stumbled upon Icarus by K. Ancrum quite by chance, drawn in by its promise of a unique blend of art, queerness, and the timeless tale of Icarus. As a lover of YA literature that navigates the complexities of identity and connection, I was eager to see how Ancrum would reimagine such an iconic myth. Spoiler: I was not disappointed.
At its heart, Icarus is about more than just a boy who steals art; it’s about the traumas we carry and the relationships that shape us. Icarus Gallagher, our protagonist, is not your typical YA hero. Raised by a father seeking vengeance against the man who caused his mother’s death, Icarus is trained to be a master thief, trading priceless art for forgeries crafted by his father. The weight of this burden fell heavily on me as a reader—there’s a raw sense of loneliness and longing that permeates every page.
One of the most striking elements of this book is the relationship between Icarus and Helios, the son of his family’s enemy. Their chemistry is electric, blossoming within the tension of familial loyalty and stolen moments. Their growing friendship—turning into something deeper—challenges Icarus’s self-imposed rules: Don’t let anyone close; don’t let anyone touch you. One of my favorite quotes captures their dynamic beautifully: “You think I’d know art, and not know this?…There have been men like you before we had words for it.” It’s a poignant reminder that love can be both terrifying and transformative.
Ancrum’s writing is a dreamy combination of poetic prose and stark realism, which allows for an emotional depth that resonated with me throughout the story. The pacing, while brisk due to its short chapters, only heightened the tension. I found myself devouring one chapter after another, eager to unravel the complex web of secrets binding the two families. There’s a certain magic in the way Ancrum conveys themes of hope, healing, and the importance of friendship.
The characters themselves—like Icarus’s supportive friends, Akeem and Celestine—often felt like fairy godmothers in their kindness and charm. It’s refreshing to witness such uplifting friendships in a YA landscape where betrayal is often the norm. In fact, I ended the book with a heart full of warmth rather than emptiness—an uncommon sensation after such an emotionally charged read.
However, I do hear some critiques surrounding the speed of the ending. I wished for a bit more closure on certain storylines, yet I found myself compelled to reflect on the bittersweet nature of unresolved feelings—much like life, I suppose.
If you’re a fan of beautifully crafted LGBTQ+ narratives that delve into identity amidst chaos, then Icarus is a must-read. This book beautifully exemplifies how love can be a force of both freedom and conflict, echoing the legend of Icarus while also carving a new path forward. I walked away feeling hopeful and inspired, reminding me—and perhaps you, too—how vital connection and empathy can be in navigating our own gilded cages.