Review: Evangeline by Eric Bush

Synopsis:

From the award winning author of The Meaning of Androsia: A love story just slightly ahead of its time.

Etienne first met Evangeline when she was sitting on a park bench in the Public Garden, on an otherwise ordinary morning in late summer. He didn’t really meet her on that first encounter. His eyes met her. Everyone has a particular taste in the opposite gender, a set of features they find compelling, a vision they find it hard to turn away from. Evangeline hit this bullseye exactly. He couldn’t turn away.

As he got to know her better, there seemed to be several levels to her personality, and she would glide back and forth between them on a whim. She was thoughtful, then delighted, then serious, then naive and in need of help, then slyly revealing that she had been aware of the situation all along. She confronted each situation directly, saying what was on her mind as it occurred to her. There was no hint of duplicity, no sense that she was acting. You could read her present state of mind from her face, though you often couldn’t predict what would come next. It was both confusing and charming. She drew you in. You wanted to follow her, even though you didn’t know where she was going.

For Etienne, she was a mystery worth solving – or not solving. Either would do. She always seemed to know how to get him to abandon his cares, and just live in the moment with her. But nothing could have prepared him for what would come next.

Favorite Lines:

“Only it was also less than love. And it was, at times, different than love.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. Is hunger an illusion? Is happiness an illusion? Is love an illusion? These are all experienced mental states in which we have no introspective visibility into the underlying neural causes. They aren’t any less real because of that. I would say, instead, that this is what these human experiences are”

“I suppose it’s obvious that we don’t know the underlying causes of love when we experience it. It just happens to us. We barely understand the more visible causes up at the people level. It’s much more complicated than just making a conscious decision, like choosing an ice cream flavor. We like to think that we are freely choosing, but it’s more like love chooses us when it happens.”

“It happens to you. We call it falling in love for a reason, don’t we?”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Evangeline is one of those books that starts out feeling like one kind of story and gradually reveals that it has something much stranger and more philosophical on its mind. We meet Etienne Harris, a Harvard philosophy professor whose very ordinary morning in Boston is interrupted when he notices a beautiful, unusual young woman sitting alone on a bench in the Public Garden. When he passes through again that evening, she is somehow still there, waiting for a man named Marcus Collins who never arrived. 

That woman is Evangeline, and from the beginning there is something slightly off about her. Not sinister, exactly. She is sweet, curious, incredibly trusting, and sometimes almost childlike in the way she approaches situations that most adults would immediately recognize as strange. She also has these sudden shifts in behavior and oddly specific ideas about how things are supposed to happen. Etienne is fascinated by her almost immediately, but the more time they spend together, the more questions start piling up about where she came from, what Marcus was doing with her in Switzerland, and why she seems to understand some parts of the world perfectly while being completely baffled by others.

I think the most interesting thing about the novel is that the mystery of Evangeline isn’t really the end goal. The book uses her to get into much bigger questions about consciousness, free will, love, identity, and what exactly makes an emotion “real.” That groundwork is actually being laid before Etienne really knows what he has stumbled into. Early on, for example, he and journalist Britta Lindemann have a long conversation about whether free will becomes less meaningful simply because human decisions can ultimately be traced back to neurons and physical causes. Their discussion eventually turns to love: if biology explains why we fall in love, does knowing the mechanism somehow make the feeling itself less real? Those questions become much more important as the story unfolds.

There is also a surprisingly old-fashioned romantic quality to the book. Evangeline herself feels like someone who has wandered out of a classic Hollywood movie and into modern Boston, which is very much intentional. Her mannerisms, clothes, speech, ideas about romance, and even the way she reacts to certain situations all contribute to the mystery surrounding her. I enjoyed the contrast between that almost whimsical, vintage feeling and the much more modern questions the novel asks about technology and artificial consciousness. It makes the story feel like part romance, part speculative fiction, and part philosophical thought experiment.

The pacing is definitely on the leisurely side. Bush likes conversations, and characters will sometimes spend quite a while unpacking an idea rather than simply moving on to the next plot point. There are also plenty of details about Boston, Harvard, philosophy, relationships, and the mechanics behind what is happening. Readers who want a fast sci-fi thriller might find that a little slow, but I don’t really think that’s what Evangeline is trying to be. The speculative element is there to create a problem that doesn’t have an easy answer: if someone can make you laugh, surprise you, comfort you, frustrate you, and make you fall in love, how much should the explanation for why they can do those things matter?

That ended up being what stuck with me most. Underneath all the unusual circumstances surrounding Evangeline, the book is really interested in the difference between experiencing something and explaining it. Etienne is a particularly fitting character to wrestle with that problem because he has spent his career thinking analytically about things like consciousness, morality, and free will. Suddenly those aren’t abstract classroom questions anymore. They’re sitting across from him, smiling at him, and forcing him to decide whether understanding how something works actually changes what it means.

Summary:

Overall, Evangeline is a thoughtful, unconventional blend of romance, speculative fiction, and philosophy. What initially feels like a strange meet-cute gradually develops into a much bigger exploration of consciousness, artificial intelligence, free will, emotional intimacy, identity, and whether knowing the mechanics behind love makes that love any less meaningful.

I’d especially recommend this to readers who like idea-driven science fiction, AI and consciousness stories, philosophical fiction, unconventional romances, classic Hollywood/Audrey Hepburn vibes, and books that spend as much time asking questions as advancing the plot. If you enjoyed stories where technology is used to examine what makes us human rather than simply as the basis for action or futuristic worldbuilding, this one should be particularly interesting. Happy reading!

Check out Evangeline here!


 

Monthly Features – July 2026

Eidolon: From the Case Files of the OHR by C.L. Stiles

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: When a man vanishes from a Kansas City diner — pulled through reality by forces no one can explain — Nathan Quipp knows it’s only the beginning.

As director of the Office of Hidden Realms, Nathan has spent his career keeping the supernatural world invisible to those who can’t handle the truth. But something is moving even deeper beneath the surface. Ley lines are surging. Cross-realm incursions are rising. And a near-divine source whispers the need to find the missing man — the Eidolon.

Now Nathan’s team is scattered across two continents and twelve centuries, racing to piece together a mystery that reaches from the streets of Kansas City to ancient Stonehenge and back again. The Veiled world is fracturing. The Unveiled are running out of time.

And something much older than the OHR is finally paying attention.

Eidolon: From the Case Files of the OHR is the first installment of the OHR Case Files.

Summary: Eidolon is an urban fantasy/paranormal mystery novel centered around the Office of Hidden Realms, a secret organization dealing with supernatural threats hidden beneath everyday life. The story mixes magical investigations, folklore, ghosts, fae, monsters, prophecies, and hidden conspiracies with a surprisingly emotional undercurrent about grief and identity. The tone balances humor, mystery, horror, and found-family energy while gradually building toward a much larger supernatural conflict. Readers who enjoy The Dresden Files, Supernatural, Men in Black-style organizations, SCP-style lore, paranormal procedurals, or ensemble urban fantasy casts will probably have a great time with this. 

See the full review here: Eidolon: From the Case Files of the OHR
Purchase here


 

The Meaning of Androsia by Eric Bush

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

Synopsis: It was a time of steam locomotives and horses, of city-states and principalities ruled by monarchs – but it did not take place in the past. It was a time of civil war between Protestants and Catholics over direct access to the Messiah – but the Messiah wasn’t Jesus. It was a place where Orthodox spires dotted the landscape, and people addressed each other with matronymics instead of patronymics – but it wasn’t a Slavic country, or even in Europe or Asia. It was a culture that venerated the great writers and composers from prior centuries – but their names were not Bach, or Shakespeare, or Beethoven. And when mid-winter rolled around, everyone celebrated the traditional holiday by decorating fir trees – but it was not Christmas. In short, it was a time very much like past centuries of our own – except that it was different. Something had happened to change the course of history.

Thus begins the story of Ilya Erynovich and Katerinya Emlynovna, a lifelong search for the meaning of something from the past. Ilya doesn’t know where he came from, or how old he is. He seems to know things he couldn’t possibly have learned. He has skills he couldn’t possibly have acquired. He is sought out, and sometimes captured, by political and religious leaders, and constantly followed by anonymous stalkers.

At first, he doesn’t even know that he is Ilya. He wakes up one evening in a train station, unable to remember anything about himself, including his own name. As he searches for someone – anyone – who might know who he is, he encounters Katerinya, a young writer, who takes an interest in his predicament and offers to help. She takes him in, and although strangers, they soon develop a mutual affection that blossoms into love.

This turns out to be good memory therapy for Ilya, and he recovers his knowledge of the last 20 years or so – but then it becomes stuck. He can’t remember anything prior to that. And it soon becomes clear to them that Ilya’s past self has left messages for his present self – there is something about the past that his present self needs to know – but the clues are cryptic and hard to decipher.

Over the course of a 24 year love affair, buffeted by political and religious intrigue, two epidemics, and a civil war, Ilya and Katerinya finally figure out who he really is…or was. But it’s not what either had expected.

Summary: The Meaning of Androsia is an ambitious speculative mystery that combines post-apocalyptic science fiction, romance, political intrigue, religion, genetics, philosophy, and alternate future history. It follows an amnesiac professor trying to discover who he is and why people are pursuing him, only for that personal mystery to gradually uncover a much larger story about a civilization that lost most of its connection to its own past.

I think this would especially appeal to readers who enjoy big-idea speculative fiction, stories about lost civilizations and reconstructed history, scientific mysteries, philosophical discussions about religion and knowledge, and slow-burning mysteries where seemingly minor clues eventually connect to a much larger explanation. Readers who enjoy a strong central romance alongside their science fiction may also really like Ilya and Katerinya. It will probably be a harder sell for readers who prefer very fast pacing or minimal exposition, because this is a long novel that frequently pauses the central plot for extended conversations about science, religion, history, literature, politics, and human behavior. 

See the full review here: The Meaning of Androsia
Purchase here


 

Review: The Meaning of Androsia by Eric Bush

Synopsis:

It was a time of steam locomotives and horses, of city-states and principalities ruled by monarchs – but it did not take place in the past. It was a time of civil war between Protestants and Catholics over direct access to the Messiah – but the Messiah wasn’t Jesus. It was a place where Orthodox spires dotted the landscape, and people addressed each other with matronymics instead of patronymics – but it wasn’t a Slavic country, or even in Europe or Asia. It was a culture that venerated the great writers and composers from prior centuries – but their names were not Bach, or Shakespeare, or Beethoven. And when mid-winter rolled around, everyone celebrated the traditional holiday by decorating fir trees – but it was not Christmas. In short, it was a time very much like past centuries of our own – except that it was different. Something had happened to change the course of history.

Thus begins the story of Ilya Erynovich and Katerinya Emlynovna, a lifelong search for the meaning of something from the past. Ilya doesn’t know where he came from, or how old he is. He seems to know things he couldn’t possibly have learned. He has skills he couldn’t possibly have acquired. He is sought out, and sometimes captured, by political and religious leaders, and constantly followed by anonymous stalkers.

At first, he doesn’t even know that he is Ilya. He wakes up one evening in a train station, unable to remember anything about himself, including his own name. As he searches for someone – anyone – who might know who he is, he encounters Katerinya, a young writer, who takes an interest in his predicament and offers to help. She takes him in, and although strangers, they soon develop a mutual affection that blossoms into love.

This turns out to be good memory therapy for Ilya, and he recovers his knowledge of the last 20 years or so – but then it becomes stuck. He can’t remember anything prior to that. And it soon becomes clear to them that Ilya’s past self has left messages for his present self – there is something about the past that his present self needs to know – but the clues are cryptic and hard to decipher.

Over the course of a 24 year love affair, buffeted by political and religious intrigue, two epidemics, and a civil war, Ilya and Katerinya finally figure out who he really is…or was. But it’s not what either had expected.

Favorite Lines:

“How does a person function in a world with no past or future, and only a fleeting present?”

“For all practical purposes, I am what I can remember.”

“And as the great Reaper strode across her corporeal landscape, extinguishing her small internal fires, she died as she thought she would, gently raging at the dying of the light.”

My Opinion:

I received a copy of this book from the author in exchange for my honest opinion.

The Meaning of Androsia starts with a really intriguing mystery. Professor Ilya Erynovich Koskayin wakes in a train station with no idea why he is there or, initially, much of an idea who he is. Even more alarming, he realizes he isn’t forming new memories properly either, forcing him to leave himself notes just to maintain some connection between one version of himself and the next. Following the limited clues he has takes him to Mariankursk, where he meets Katerinya, a young woman who rather unexpectedly becomes his partner in trying to piece everything together. Their investigation eventually intersects with a mysterious disease outbreak, a strange mark on Ilya’s ankle, people pursuing him for reasons he can’t remember, and a word that seems to carry some significance he has completely forgotten: Androsia.

One of the things I found most interesting about the book is that the mystery surrounding Ilya is only part of a much larger mystery surrounding the world itself. This is a future society living in the aftermath of a catastrophic break with the past, and familiar pieces of our own history have survived in altered, sometimes almost unrecognizable forms. Religions, holidays, historical figures, literature, and cultural traditions have been mixed together and reinterpreted over generations. There is a lot of humor in recognizing what these characters don’t, but there’s also a serious idea underneath it. The novel keeps asking how confidently any society can claim to understand its own past when history is always being filtered through whoever happened to survive and whatever information happened to remain. Even the opening epigraph, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” ends up applying just as much to civilization as it does to Ilya personally.

Ilya and Katerinya’s relationship is also a huge part of the novel, much more than I expected when the story began. Katerinya initially feels like someone who happens to be pulled into Ilya’s mystery, but she quickly becomes indispensable to solving it. She’s often the person who makes the intuitive leap Ilya misses, while he gives her the confidence and intellectual freedom to reconsider the life she imagined for herself. Their romance is unusually gentle, built around trust and companionship rather than conflict, and I liked the idea that neither of them really pursues or conquers the other. As Katerinya eventually describes it, they simply started moving in the same direction together. That relationship becomes much more bittersweet once the truth about Ilya finally comes into focus, because the mystery they have spent so long solving ultimately tells them something neither can undo.

I don’t want to spoil anything so I will keep this intentionally vague: the eventual meaning of Androsia was probably my favorite part of the story. The word and symbol keep resurfacing in different contexts, but for much of the story neither Ilya nor the reader has enough information to understand what they actually represent. I liked the way the novel slowly builds that question into something larger than a simple conspiracy or secret organization. Androsia becomes tied to the book’s broader interest in memory, identity, and the ways knowledge can be lost, altered, or misunderstood over time. It also mirrors Ilya’s own situation in an interesting way, since he is trying to reconstruct his personal history while living in a world that has its own fractured relationship with the past. I thought that parallel gave the central mystery much more depth than I initially expected. 

By the end, the book becomes less about solving a conspiracy and more about what it actually means to preserve something. Scientific truths can be rediscovered because the underlying laws don’t change, but art, religion, culture, and even our definitions of genius depend much more heavily on what happens to survive. Ilya eventually learns who he has been and realizes what matters most to him – his life with Katerinya. I found that surprisingly moving. For a book so interested in huge questions about civilization, religion, evolution, science, and immortality, some of its strongest moments are ultimately about something much simpler: the fact that even an extraordinarily long life doesn’t make the people you love any less temporary.

Summary:

Overall, The Meaning of Androsia is an ambitious speculative mystery that combines post-apocalyptic science fiction, romance, political intrigue, religion, genetics, philosophy, and alternate future history. It follows an amnesiac professor trying to discover who he is and why people are pursuing him, only for that personal mystery to gradually uncover a much larger story about a civilization that lost most of its connection to its own past.

I think this would especially appeal to readers who enjoy big-idea speculative fiction, stories about lost civilizations and reconstructed history, scientific mysteries, philosophical discussions about religion and knowledge, and slow-burning mysteries where seemingly minor clues eventually connect to a much larger explanation. Readers who enjoy a strong central romance alongside their science fiction may also really like Ilya and Katerinya. It will probably be a harder sell for readers who prefer very fast pacing or minimal exposition, because this is a long novel that frequently pauses the central plot for extended conversations about science, religion, history, literature, politics, and human behavior. Happy reading!

Check out The Meaning of Androsia here!