Stacey McEwan’s latest offering, A Forbidden Alchemy, descends into the grimy tunnels of social revolution with the precision of a master storyteller. Following her successful Glacian Trilogy, McEwan demonstrates a remarkable evolution in her craft, delivering a romantasy that cuts deeper than surface-level magic systems to expose the raw nerves of class struggle and forbidden desire.
The novel opens with Nina Harrow, whose very name echoes the mining accident that defined her birth—a clever literary device that immediately establishes the symbiotic relationship between personal tragedy and systemic oppression. McEwan’s prose here is particularly striking, weaving together the industrial bleakness of mining towns with the gilded promise of Belavere City in language that feels both gritty and lyrical.
A World Built on Lies and Limestone
The Magic System That Mirrors Reality
McEwan constructs a magic system that serves as a brilliant allegory for inherited privilege. The siphoning ceremony—where twelve-year-olds consume idium to determine their magical potential—initially appears as a traditional fantasy trope. However, the gradual revelation that “Artisans aren’t born, they’re chosen” transforms this magical framework into a scathing commentary on how societal structures perpetuate inequality.
The distinction between Artisans (magical elite) and Craftsmen (physical laborers) creates a world where your magical ability—and thus your entire life trajectory—depends not on innate talent but on predetermined social engineering. This revelation feels particularly resonant in our current era of increasing awareness about systemic privilege and manufactured meritocracy.
Belavere City: A Character in Its Own Right
The setting itself deserves praise for its atmospheric depth. McEwan paints Belavere City with the precision of an urban planner and the soul of a poet. The contrast between the luminescent facades and the underground tunnels serves as a physical manifestation of the novel’s thematic concerns about hidden truths and surface deceptions.
The idium mines beneath the city create a literal foundation of exploitation upon which the magical society rests—a metaphor so sharp it nearly cuts through the page. McEwan’s background research shows in her detailed descriptions of mining operations and underground networks, lending authenticity to even the most fantastical elements.
Characters Forged in Fire and Circumstance
Nina Harrow: The Earth-Shaker
Nina emerges as a protagonist worthy of the earth magic she wields. Her journey from abandoned child to reluctant revolutionary showcases McEwan’s growth as a character writer. Unlike many fantasy heroines who discover they’re “special,” Nina’s power feels earned through suffering and choice rather than birthright.
Her earth magic serves as more than a plot device—it becomes an extension of her emotional landscape. The way she summons dust in moments of stress or creates earthquakes in anger demonstrates McEwan’s understanding that the best magic systems reflect internal states rather than external spectacle.
The author handles Nina’s trauma with particular sensitivity. Her abandonment by her mother creates wounds that influence every relationship, yet McEwan avoids the trap of making trauma her only defining characteristic. Nina’s growth throughout the novel feels organic, driven by genuine emotional development rather than plot convenience.
Patrick Colson: The Revolutionary with a Heart
Patrick represents McEwan’s most complex character creation to date. As a Smith (physical enhancement magic) leading a Craftsman rebellion, he embodies the tension between personal desire and revolutionary duty. His relationship with Nina crackles with authentic chemistry precisely because both characters have agency and conflicting loyalties.
McEwan avoids the common romantasy pitfall of making the male love interest perfect. Patrick’s jealousy, his strategic thinking that sometimes borders on manipulation, and his willingness to sacrifice for the greater good create a character who feels genuinely three-dimensional. His dialect and mannerisms ground him firmly in his working-class origins without descending into caricature.
Theodore Shop: The Price of Privilege
The most fascinating character development comes through Theodore, Nina’s first love and a water Charmer caught between worlds. His journey from privileged Artisan to reluctant revolutionary exposes the psychological cost of abandoning everything you were raised to believe.
McEwan uses Theodore to explore themes of redemption and class guilt with remarkable nuance. His jealousy toward Patrick isn’t just romantic rivalry—it’s the rage of someone who sacrificed everything only to watch the object of his devotion choose someone who never had to make such sacrifices.
Romance That Burns Slow and Hot
The Art of Romantic Tension
McEwan has mastered the slow-burn romance, building tension through shared glances, interrupted conversations, and the weight of unspoken history. The relationship between Nina and Patrick develops with the patience of underground roots seeking water—slowly, persistently, inevitably.
Their romantic scenes pulse with genuine emotion rather than manufactured heat. When Patrick whispers, “I’m in love with you, I’m afraid,” the vulnerability in those words carries more erotic charge than pages of explicit content. McEwan understands that the mind is the most important erogenous zone.
The love triangle with Theodore avoids typical genre frustrations by giving each relationship distinct emotional weight. Nina’s connection to Theodore represents her past self and lost innocence, while Patrick embodies her future and the person she’s becoming. This psychological depth elevates the romantic elements beyond simple wish fulfillment.
Revolutionary Themes Wrapped in Fantasy
Class Warfare with Magical Weapons
The novel’s exploration of class revolution feels particularly urgent. McEwan doesn’t shy away from the violence inherent in systemic change, nor does she romanticize poverty and oppression. The Miners Union strikes and the brutal government response echo real-world labor struggles while maintaining the fantastical elements that make the story accessible.
The revelation about the siphoning ceremony serves as the novel’s emotional and thematic climax. Learning that magical ability is artificially assigned rather than naturally occurring transforms every previous scene, forcing readers to reconsider their assumptions about merit and privilege.
The Personal Cost of Revolution
McEwan excels at showing how political upheaval affects individual relationships. Families are torn apart, friendships dissolved, and love tested against ideological differences. The novel never suggests that choosing the right side is easy or that good intentions guarantee good outcomes.
The moral complexity of the rebellion receives particularly thoughtful treatment. While clearly sympathetic to the Craftsmen’s cause, McEwan acknowledges the genuine fear and confusion of ordinary Artisans who benefit from the system without actively oppressing others.
Literary Craftsmanship and Style
Prose That Matches Its Setting
McEwan’s writing style mirrors her industrial setting—solid, functional, occasionally beautiful, always purposeful. Her sentences carry the weight of stone and the flow of underground rivers. Descriptive passages never feel indulgent; every detail serves the story’s emotional or thematic purpose.
The dialogue particularly impresses, with each character’s voice distinct and authentic to their background. Patrick’s rough edges and dropped consonants contrast perfectly with Theodore’s formal education and Nina’s evolving speech patterns as she moves between worlds.
Pacing and Structure
The novel’s structure follows a careful progression from personal discovery to political awakening to revolutionary action. McEwan balances multiple plot threads—romance, family secrets, political intrigue—without losing focus on the central story.
Some readers might find the middle section slightly slower as McEwan develops the political backdrop, but this investment pays dividends in the explosive final act. The underground setting creates natural opportunities for claustrophobic tension and intimate character moments.
Areas Where the Foundation Shifts
Familiar Fantasy Elements
While McEwan’s execution is largely excellent, certain elements feel familiar to seasoned fantasy readers. The chosen one aspects of Nina’s story, while handled well, don’t entirely escape genre conventions. The division between magical and non-magical populations echoes numerous other fantasy worlds.
The magic system, despite its thematic relevance, sometimes feels underdeveloped in terms of its mechanics and limitations. Readers seeking detailed magical worldbuilding might find themselves wanting more specificity about how different magical abilities work and interact.
Secondary Character Development
Some supporting characters, particularly in the Kenton Hill mining community, could benefit from additional development. While McEwan creates a vivid sense of place, individual community members sometimes blur together, making it harder to feel the full emotional impact of their struggles.
The political intrigue elements, while compelling, occasionally feel rushed compared to the careful development of the romantic and character elements. The House of Lords and their machinations could use additional screen time to feel fully realized as antagonists.
Thematic Resonance and Contemporary Relevance
Privilege and Power Structures
A Forbidden Alchemy speaks directly to contemporary conversations about inherited advantage and systemic inequality. The magical framework allows readers to examine these issues from a safer emotional distance while still grappling with their real-world implications.
The novel’s treatment of education and opportunity feels particularly relevant. The National Artisan School represents the kind of elite institution that perpetuates class divisions while appearing to reward merit. Nina’s experience there exposes how such systems can isolate individuals from their communities while indoctrinating them into harmful ideologies.
Environmental and Labor Themes
The mining focus brings environmental destruction and worker exploitation into sharp focus. The idium mines that power magical society destroy the physical landscape while crushing the bodies and spirits of workers—a clear parallel to fossil fuel extraction and other environmentally destructive industries.
McEwan’s depiction of labor organizing and revolutionary action feels grounded in historical reality while remaining hopeful about the possibility of meaningful change. The novel suggests that systemic transformation requires both personal sacrifice and collective action.
Comparisons and Literary Context
Standing Among Romantasy Giants
A Forbidden Alchemy earns its place alongside works like Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows and Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses while carving out its own distinct territory. McEwan’s focus on class struggle sets her apart from fantasy romance that primarily explores personal relationships within established power structures.
The novel’s industrial setting recalls the steampunk elements of authors like Gail Carriger while maintaining the emotional intensity of contemporary romantasy. McEwan successfully bridges literary fiction’s character depth with genre fiction’s satisfying plot structure.
Evolution from the Glacian Trilogy
Readers familiar with McEwan’s previous work will notice significant growth in character development and thematic complexity. While the Glacian Trilogy established her ability to create compelling romantic relationships, A Forbidden Alchemy demonstrates newfound confidence in tackling larger social and political themes.
The writing itself shows increased sophistication, with more nuanced character motivations and a better balance between romance and plot advancement. McEwan has clearly been studying the craft, and the results show in every chapter.
For Readers Seeking Similar Experiences
Recommended Reading
Fans of A Forbidden Alchemy should explore:
- Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard – Class-based magic systems and revolutionary themes
- An Unkindness of Magicians by Kat Howard – Magical societies built on exploitation
- The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon – Epic fantasy with strong female protagonists
- The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab – Atmospheric historical fantasy with romantic elements
- The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid – Complex characters navigating power structures (contemporary fiction)
Content Considerations
“A Forbidden Alchemy” contains moderate violence related to mining accidents, revolutionary conflict, and class oppression. Romantic content remains tasteful without being explicit. Themes of abandonment, trauma, and systemic injustice might be triggering for some readers, though McEwan handles sensitive topics with care.
Final Verdict: A Gem Worth Mining
A Forbidden Alchemy succeeds brilliantly at what it sets out to accomplish—creating a romantic fantasy that entertains while challenging readers to examine their own assumptions about merit, privilege, and social justice. McEwan has crafted a world where the personal is political and the magical is meaningful.
The novel’s greatest strength lies in its emotional authenticity. Every relationship feels real, every conflict meaningful, every resolution earned. McEwan never takes the easy path, forcing her characters to make difficult choices with lasting consequences.
While “A Forbidden Alchemy” operates within familiar fantasy frameworks, McEwan’s execution and thematic depth elevate it above mere genre exercise. This is romantasy with something to say, delivered through compelling characters and an engaging plot.
- Bottom Line: A Forbidden Alchemy represents Stacey McEwan at her finest—a author who understands that the best fantasy doesn’t just transport readers to other worlds, but helps them see their own world more clearly. This is essential reading for anyone who believes that love stories can also be revolutionary stories.
