Eyes Like Stars

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the concept at first—*another* plucky orphan in a magical world? But *Eyes Like Stars* won me over by refusing to play it safe. Bertie isn’t here to learn humility or find her ‘true home’; she’s here to *fight* for her place in the chaos, and her stubbornness makes her oddly relatable. The Theater Illuminata is a masterstroke: a sentient, Shakespeare-obsessed building where every character, from the smitten fairy Peaseblossom to the brooding (and literal) *Sea* in the basement, feels like they’ve wandered in from a different classic play. Mantchev’s footnotes—delivered by Bishop with arch perfection—are either brilliant or distracting, depending on your tolerance for meta-commentary. I loved them, but they *do* break the flow at times, especially in high-tension scenes. Bishop’s narration is a standout, though not without quirks. Her Bertie is all adolescent defiance and dry humor, but some of the male voices (particularly the pirates) veer into cartoonish territory. The pacing stumbles slightly in the middle, when the plot gets tangled in its own cleverness, but the final act’s emotional payoff—Bertie’s confrontation with the Theater’s rules—lands with surprising weight. The sound design is subtle but effective: the echo of footsteps in empty wings, the distant creak of a ship’s hull when pirates take the stage. It’s not a flawless performance, but it’s a *vivid* one, and that’s what this book demands. If you’ve ever wished for a story that feels like sneaking into a dress rehearsal for *A Midsummer Night’s Dream* directed by Tim Burton, this is your audiobook. Just be prepared to either adore or groan at the footnotes—there’s no middle ground.