The Ten Thousand Doors of January is a wonderfully magical portal fantasy novel that will appeal to just about any book lover. It’s slow, winding, and subtle, brimming with some of the most gorgeous writing I’ve ever read. Unfortunately, the plot doesn’t lend itself to tense action or momentum, making this a much quieter adventure and not quite what I was looking for after coming off the bloody, excitable events of The Blacksmith Queen by G.A. Aiken.

January Scaller is a woman left in the care of her father’s employer, the enigmatic and very wealthy Mr. Locke. Locke is very interested in collecting antiquities and rare objects; January’s father is often hired to procure these items and travels most of the year. At the age of seven, January discovers a blue door in a remote Midwestern field that opens up to a rocky, seaside cliff. Her life is, understandably, changed forever at this discovery, especially as she grows older and her relationship with the Doors (portal doors are capitalized in the text) becomes part of a larger conspiracy. Strange men are hoping to close the Doors permanently, sealing them from ever being opened again.

It takes a while for this good versus evil vibe to firmly take root, as there is a lot of coming of age setup for January, but she is a wonderful heroine to spend time with. She’s smart, sometimes prickly, curious to a fault, and just feels everything down to her bones. There’s a heartbreaking emphasis on loss and love given her father’s absenteeism and the mystery of who her mother is/was.

I’m not exaggerating when I say this is one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I’ve ever read. Harrow is truly gifted with how she plays with language, enabling January to break the fourth wall in charming ways.

Here is one of the opening paragraphs:

When I was seven, I found a Door. There–look how tall and proud the word stands on the page now, the belly of the D like a black archway leading into white nothing. When you see that word, I imagine a little prickle of familiarity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You don’t know a thing about me; you can’t see me sitting at this yellow-wood desk, the salt-sweet breeze riffling these pages like a reader looking for her bookmark. You can’t see the scars that twist and knot across my skin. You don’t even know my name (it’s January Scaller; so now I suppose you do know a little something about me and I’ve ruined my point).

January, as the narrator of this story, is infectious with her curiosity. The way she describes things made me desperate to know more. I wanted her to find all of the answers she sought and then some, to go on grand adventures, to have fun, instead of having her life be overshadowed by this persistent feeling of not fitting in. Yes, you will cry during this book with tears that are both happy and sad.

The relationship between January and the Doors is the central plot point–what the Doors mean, how they are accessed, who else knows about them, etc. And that was all well and good, but it certainly didn’t keep me from making comparisons to one of my favorite portal fantasy series: Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children. If you’re also familiar with these books, you’ll most likely do the same.

In the Wayward Children series, young children find their way into these portal-ed fantasy worlds and are then deposited back in the real world with really no ways of coping. Some experienced trauma, others realized that time works drastically different in another world, but I always got a clear sense of the types of environments to which they journeyed. They are varied and imaginative and so distinct. I didn’t have the same feeling with Ten Thousand Doors; the portals never become full-fledged settings and I wished January had spent more time within them.

I also want to note that Ten Thousand Doors isn’t nearly as dark or grim as the Wayward Children, if you happened to be put off by those aspects in the McGuire series.

This book is heavily focused on character dynamics and is driven by those relationships. Any action was short-lived and the stakes were never high enough to make be believe in any real, legitimate danger for January. At times, I wanted something that would amp up the pace or keep me on the edge of my seat, but that is not this sort of book. Though January is a great main character, she does a lot of ruminating on the people close to her and whatever situation she’s currently dealing with. I wanted something to get my heart racing. There aren’t any intense confrontations with the bad guys, just frequent emotional distress without much follow through.

My expectations were misplaced for The Ten Thousand Doors of January. I was hoping for more portal fantasy meets Wayward Children meets Men in Black; that’s on me. However, if you’re in the mood for a lovely, tender fantasy novel about belonging and one that feels more like a long, relaxing bath than a hot, intense shower will all of the fancy pressure and pulsating settings you can imagine, you’ll love this one. It’s a soothing pick for when you hope to take comfort in a book.