Reading Jade City feels like watching a movie in an empty theater. Eyes glued to the giant screen, the roaring action and raw emotions filling the silReading Jade City feels like watching a movie in an empty theater. Eyes glued to the giant screen, the roaring action and raw emotions filling the silence. Then when the movie ends and the lights turn on, you’re surprised that you’re alone, that the characters weren’t actually living their lives right in front of you. I’ve heard people say that you should write a book like it’s a film playing in your mind, seamlessly transitioning from scene to scene, lending a cinematic quality to the characters. Jade City is a perfect example. This changed the way I see fantasy.
The book revolves around the rivalry between the two major clans that control Janloon (Jade City): No Peak, led by the Kaul family, and Mountain, their cunning opposition. Although the protagonists are Kauls and I was very emotionally attached to their fates, I couldn’t help but admire Mountain in some ways. Ayt Mada, their leader, has more foresight for the country of Kekon than any of the Kauls. She is a calculating and enthralling character, hard to resist.
That’s part of the beauty of Jade City. The entangled economics, politics, and alliances are thrilling to read about. Janloon is a city of moving parts. The urban world Fonda Lee has created is outstanding. There are so many little cultural touches that bring it to life: idioms, religious superstitions, honorific suffixes.
The Kauls, fiercely loyal and devoted, are fascinating and realistic characters. Lan strives to live up to his grandfather’s expectations and his late father’s legacy. Hilo is violent and hot-tempered, but his love for the clan runs deep. Shae, in search of herself, tries to find a balance between loyalty to her difficult family and independence from the archaic Green Bone society. Anden feels like a foreigner in his own country, haunted by his parents’ history as he struggles to control his untamed jade powers. They are a messy family, their relationships with each other rife with tension and unresolved bitterness. But their bonds with one another, each unique and complicated in their own way, prove strong enough to survive the war on their hands. Even the side characters are given distinct personalities and developed well without sacrificing the quality of the main characters' storylines.
The plot is so clean and well-paced, though it is intricate and full of twists. I never felt confused or lost, even as the story got more complicated. The writing style fits the plot perfectly. It’s not flowery or especially poetic, but it describes everything from the action scenes to the quiet ones so well. The words just flow like they’re supposed to:
Kaul Sen sagged and sat down on the stairs, his limbs folding like a rickety chair frame, his rope draping over his bony shoulders and knees like a sheet.
I first read Jade City a year or so ago, in 2021, when I was on the cusp of falling into a deep reading slump that would last half a year. At the time, I placed most of the blame for that slump on this book, which was unfair, because there were definitely other factors that made me unsatisfied with literature for such a long period of time. I don’t think I’ve ever changed my opinion about a book to the polar opposite before, but if any book deserves my wholehearted change of mind, it’s this one. I enjoyed every page of Jade City. What a satisfying, riveting, unique masterpiece of fantasy.
Playlist (created with input from John): Been Away Too Long - Soundgarden Ode to my Family - The Cranberries Jaded - Aerosmith Dynasty - Rina Sawayama The Green Manalishi - Fleetwood Mac False Dichotomy - Metric BIBI Vengeance - BIBI Savage Good Boy - Japanese Breakfast Mungo City - Spacehog Heads Will Roll - Yeah Yeah Yeahs Bones - Soccer Mommy Beautiful Crime - TAMER
The Stolen Heir is paradoxical: captivating and boring, magical and plain, purposeful and aimless. The best aspects were all related to Suren, who livThe Stolen Heir is paradoxical: captivating and boring, magical and plain, purposeful and aimless. The best aspects were all related to Suren, who lived through the darkest parts of the faerie world. Holly Black didn't shy away from the violence and brutality that Suren experienced. I didn't realize I was expecting the characters to escape certain horrible situations until the threats were actually carried out. Another one of the most interesting parts of the book was Suren's relationship with her unfamily—her human parents and sister.
I wasn't excited to see Oak as a teenager. He ended up being a standard male lead: apparently shallow, with layers that seem deep but are actually quite predictable. I still think of him as a toddler, even after finishing the book, which made reading The Stolen Heir kind of awkward. Also, I forgot he had hooves.
The plot twists in the final quarter were so thrilling. They almost made up for the meandering, directionless plot of the rest of the book. Many plot points felt random because I wasn't sure what Suren and Oak were supposed to be doing. The side characters were forgettable, especially Tiernan, who had no memorable characteristics. This was a letdown after the fascinating side characters of TFOTA.
Even though the first half of The Stolen Heir dragged, I ended up enjoying this book quite a bit. It was dramatic, dark, enchanting, and secretive enough to keep me hooked. I read it in a moving vehicle and it was so engrossing that it didn't even make me sick, and that counts for something.
When Philip's cousin Ambrose dies suddenly, leaving his young heir and his widow Rachel behind, Philip is determined to hate Rachel. She is a mystery,When Philip's cousin Ambrose dies suddenly, leaving his young heir and his widow Rachel behind, Philip is determined to hate Rachel. She is a mystery, always watching, always there, at times comforting or terrifying. She haunts him, some days belladonna and others bella donna.
Is that hatred in Philip's eyes, or infatuation? What is the difference between the two? When you have spent so much energy loathing someone, will your love always be tinged with resentment? For Philip, utterly unversed in interactions with women, malicious motives seem to hide behind Rachel's mocking smile. But his descent into paranoia is offset by his desperate adoration of his cousin's enchanting widow.
This book feels like running down an endless corridor, nothing but emptiness before you. Dusting off old silver, seeing a distorted reflection of your features in the dim light of a candle. Digging up buried hatchets. Cold sweat trickling down your spine. Sensing someone breathing behind you. The silence of shared loss.
Nothing could have prepared me for My Cousin Rachel.
An examination of the psychology of a murderer, Crime and Punishment delves into the darkest depths of the mind, where tangled threads of hatred and pAn examination of the psychology of a murderer, Crime and Punishment delves into the darkest depths of the mind, where tangled threads of hatred and paranoia and torment weave together to form a man such as Raskolnikov. Insignificant but too proud to admit it, he believes he is above trivial morality. But there is some tortured compassion in him, although it all but vanishes as he commits the titular Crime. Spiraling deeper and deeper into madness and resentment, Raskolnikov isolates himself and continues his desperate narcissism to the bitter end. His intensifying anxiety and terror, paired with his exaggerated belief in his own importance, drive him to increasingly severe breakdowns. Raskolnikov retreats into the uneasiness of his own mind, his fears threatening to overwhelm him.
Is there inherent evil in humankind? We all have hatred inside of us, but what defines us? What defines Raskolnikov? His moments of selfless generosity or his sudden, formidable rage? Should we be content to suffer from an endless helix of our innate capacity for violence?
I highly recommend the translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. It captures Dostoevsky's eloquent voice without compromising the urgency and anxiety of the novel.
5 stars
“Guess,” he said, with his former twisted and powerless smile.
When the Blood Veil falls in the shrouded village of Ilvernath, six champions must fall with it. Only one will be left standing at the end of the deadWhen the Blood Veil falls in the shrouded village of Ilvernath, six champions must fall with it. Only one will be left standing at the end of the deadly tournament. The last champion’s prize is the only high magick in the world, a coveted resource worth more to the seven champions’ families than the lives of their children. From youth, these champions are groomed for their bloody future with the vision of who they will be, who they should be—not who they are.
Names are carved into cracked stone, ancient Relics are unearthed, spellstones glow with raw magick. Alliances flicker, loyalty wavers—just like the villainy that lurks behind each champion’s eyes.
“There are no friends here. Only people you kill now, and people you kill later.”
Alistair Lowe was born to be a villain. His family has dominated the tournament for as long as the residents of Ilvernath can remember. Ruthless and cunning, they favor strategy over paltry things like trust or love. They feed him with stories of monsters that destroy and wreck and ruin. Just like him. Alistair thinks he’s the villain, but he’s just a soft, scared boy. He has a very tortured past that he has to work through. The more I learn about him, the more I love him. He has a good heart, but he was corrupted as a child. He needs a hug and someone who doesn’t want to stab him.
The Lowes did not tell their children monster stories so that they could slay them. The Lowes told them so their children would become monsters themselves.
Isobel Macaslan is not who she seems to be. Thrust into the public eye prematurely, she hides a deep secret behind a mask of confidence: she doesn’t want to be her family’s champion. She doesn’t want to choose between losing her future and killing her friends, but as the press stalks her every move and her heart hovers between two worlds, she must make a decision before someone else makes it for her. She is clever, resourceful, and willing to be manipulative. She knows what she has to do. She doesn’t like it, but she does it anyway.
It wasn’t easy to feign confidence when she still teetered on the edge of a breakdown.
Briony Thorburn is the perfect champion. Talented, strong, intelligent—she was made for this, and she is desperate to prove herself. But when something goes terribly wrong right before the Tournament, she makes an anguished decision that could unravel everything. She is also my least favorite character. She’s self-righteous and has a hero complex, but is actually ignorant and oblivious. She ends up hurting more people than she helps and excuses her actions with flimsy reasons.
“You don’t care who gets in your way, or what happens to them if they do. No one in here is a hero—least of all you.”
Gavin Grieve has nothing left to lose. Everyone knows Grieves never win. So he bets on himself, on his very life force. His power is doubled, his odds of winning seem almost astronomical… But at what cost? Gavin made many foolish decisions, so I didn’t like him, but he was still fascinating. He will do anything for power.
He was capable of greatness. But only he could see it.
All of Us Villains sent chills down my spine. I loved watching the characters’ ideals crumble when they were confronted with moral dilemmas. The different POVs were intriguing. The atmosphere was perfect. My expectations were high, but I was still blown away. That was amazing.
By the end of Babel, I was shaking. Maybe out of grief, maybe out of awe; I felt as if I had watched something monumental flourish and collapse. And, By the end of Babel, I was shaking. Maybe out of grief, maybe out of awe; I felt as if I had watched something monumental flourish and collapse. And, for a minute, the world seemed so still, like the last few pages were a clip from a silent film. I’m writing this review immediately after finishing the book. I think, at some point in the near future, the enormity of what I have just read will come slamming into me. But for now, I will type away and try, in vain, to express the shockwave that I know is about to hit the literary world.
Babel has the weight of a modern literary classic, although it is a unique blend of historical fiction, fantasy, and nonfiction. Kuang’s writing can be very technical, and often reads like a textbook. Despite the dense, lecture-like paragraphs about etymology and the history of language, Babel is incredibly immersive. It’s so easy to get swept up in this story. Over the 24 hours that I was reading this, I would tell myself that I was just sitting down to read a few pages, only to accidentally read one hundred.
I enjoy reading nonfiction and I have a passion for languages, so when I closed the cover of the book feeling like I had just completed a university course, I was filled with this sort of humming glee. I can see myself reading Babel again and again, poring over every sentence with the same fascination that I experienced this first time through.
Rebecca Roanhorse calls Babel Kuang’s love-hate letter to academia, which could not be more accurate. Nowhere else have I read academia described with so much biting, loving, unflinching detail.
Babel honors the magic of translation and linguistics. While many say that words are just sequences of sounds given meaning, language is undeniably a keystone of history and culture. Translation is a highly underappreciated art. Every time words are converted between languages, they lose some of their association, some of their meaning and gravity. What is most important in a translation? The author’s style and voice? The emotional message? The exact words themselves?
Robin, the main character, feels so real. For most of the book, he grapples with impossible decisions. He was taken to Babel without choice, but he feels at home in the tower, which feeds his hunger for knowledge. He knows that the research he works on supports British imperialism, but he relishes the power he wields as a translator and silver-worker. As he witnesses Britain pump opium into China, his homeland, he struggles to choose between the utopian life of comfort and discovery he has grown to treasure and everything he has wilfully ignored for most of his life: the fact that he will never truly be accepted in Oxford for who he really is, that to the empire, people like him are either curiosities to be examined or subhumans to be exploited. Staying at Babel feels like a betrayal, but the enormity of the other option frightens him: join the secretive Hermes Society to take a stand against Britain’s abuse.
This is where many of the most weighty questions are raised. As the title suggests, Babel is in part a breakdown of the necessity of violence. It’s easy to say that nothing is solved by brute force that could not have been solved by diplomacy, but will an oppressor ever be able to sacrifice their pride and greed? At what point does a line need to be crossed, a transition from peaceful activism to the threat or action of violent upheaval?
Robin, Ramy, Victoire, and Letty are all meticulously drawn characters. While their bond is fiery and passionate, they are afraid to test the limits of their inherent differences. Letty, raised in an upper-class white family, has trouble understanding how Robin, Ramy, and Victoire will never truly be free at Babel. How they were taken from their countries and shackled to Babel, forced to help construct the same empire that is destroying their homes and enslaving their people.
Babel is passionate, scathing, incendiary, fervent. It has all the inevitability and gravity of a tidal wave, a massive force crashing into me, sweeping me away. Here, I find that language has failed me once again, because I cannot write a sentence or a paragraph or a whole review that will quite capture how I felt when I finished Babel. I will leave it for you to discover, because if you pick up just one book this year, make it this one.
The Atlas Six is pretentious and luxurious and self-indulgent. I can’t decide if I love it or if I would rather throw it across the room.
Somehow I reaThe Atlas Six is pretentious and luxurious and self-indulgent. I can’t decide if I love it or if I would rather throw it across the room.
Somehow I read 380-something pages of this book and I still have no idea what it’s about. The characters wander around a library and go to classes that are described with as little detail as possible, they get into some fights for reasons that are not explained, there’s a conflict involving murder that doesn’t seem to have a cause or effect. They wave their hands around and do some hand-wavey pseudoscience slash magic that fluctuates when it’s convenient. There’s a subplot about the overpopulation of the world that I thought would be interesting but was abandoned quickly. There’s another subplot about the perception of time and how we as individuals experience the passage through time differently, but so little page space was spent on it that it faded to the background. The plot got lost in the words.
Nico and Libby—angsty platonic soulmates—make a literal wormhole. And then they just use it to get snacks. Can’t we learn about that, please? Maybe then I’ll understand what this vague *waves hand* power struggle is about. There are so many discussions about what the characters are willing to do for the power that the Library of Alexandria gives them… but what power? Show me. Yes, there are old books. But that’s all we’re given. Maybe I’m an outlier here, but I would not kill someone just to have access to some old books. Use Google Scholar like a regular person.
None of the characters have a reason to be in Alexandria, and every time this is brought up, they dodge the issue with philosophical rhetorical questions that go nowhere. I can get behind a burning quest for knowledge, but I expect it to be given more substance and thought. Personally, if some random man approached me with ominous promises of some unidentified great power, I would not abandon my life to follow him. Have none of these characters been chased by cultists in the streets before? That is shady. Libby only accepted the offer because Nico did. Callum, Tristan, and Parisa are there because they were bored. Reina wanted to read books. (Which is valid, but still.) Besides, the author clearly didn’t care about Reina, and as a consequence, I also forgot she existed most of the time. What does she do? She’s basically a phone charger. Every one of her point of view chapters felt like an afterthought. “Oh, right! There are six main characters!”
I need to give a valid reason why I ended up loving this book even though it was objectively questionable: I can be a really pretentious fan of overblown fustian language and philosophy that runs around in circles and adds nothing to the plot. I like words that sound pretty. I like sentences that give me chills, even if they mean nothing. I am a simple person. Collecting shiny things brings me joy. Yes, that is a shard of a beer bottle, but it’s pretty. This book is a broken beer bottle. #deep
You know when you read something so agonizing and torturous and angst-riddled in exactly the right way and it brings you physical pain? That is it. That is this book. Everyone is manipulating everyone else and their hazy morality wasn’t subtle at all, but I still almost screamed multiple times. The chemistry between all of the characters was a sinful indulgence.
The Atlas Six is enchanting and frustrating and addictive and pointless, but I still really, really enjoyed it somehow. I’m actually tempted to give it five stars because it played with my heart and that’s all I really want. But that decreases the value of the five-star rating, so I’ll settle on something more realistic:
3 unhealthy junk food stars
A uniquely upsetting curse, really, how little he knew how to exist when she wasn’t there.
I’m not sure how I can possibly encompass all the emotions this made me feel. All I can do is try.
The Burning God felt like cominThis book broke me.
I’m not sure how I can possibly encompass all the emotions this made me feel. All I can do is try.
The Burning God felt like coming home. Not that it was wholesome or sweet or comfortable—definitely not. But it felt like coming home in that it was absolutely everything I could want in a book. After all this time spent searching, I have finally found another series that I can whole-heartedly love and recommend.
After the events of The Dragon Republic, Rin joins the Southern Coalition in an effort to stop the Dragon Republic from taking over Nikan. She’s broken, emotionally and physically. She was betrayed and barely escaped with her life, and now she wants revenge.
This book is beautiful and haunting and painful.
This is definitely the most hard-hitting series I’ve ever read. Rin is so power-hungry, but this raises the question of what she will do once she has all the power she wants. Does she actually deserve it? Is she the villain or the heroine? Is she actually trying to do a good thing, or is she just obsessed with gaining power?
I love the way this book makes me think.
And oh, the characters were utter perfection. They were written so carefully. They’re bloodthirsty and merciless and yet…
In the end, they’re just kids.
No matter how much Rin lashes out, she’s still just a frightened girl thrust into a terrifying world. Kitay always seems so strong, but he is hurting on the inside, bound to Rin because he loves her. And Nezha—Nezha the unshakeable—is just a shell of his former self.
War has changed them, shaped them. They are no longer petty, spoiled Sinegard students. They’ve been hardened, broken, and molded—brought together by a shared pain.
My heart breaks for them.
I love how vulnerable they all are, especially Kitay. He’s a good person at heart (probably the only one in this series), but he was forced to do terrible things and undergo traumatic events because this world is cruel.
Kuang made a very smart decision when she wrote this book in third person through mostly Rin’s perspective. Rin’s biases and fears are shown very well. When she got paranoid, I felt scared as well. When she felt bloodthirsty, it was almost like I was there with her, screaming at the sky. The chapters not from her perspective were so shocking to me (especially The Drowning Faith), because it was disconcerting to see what other people thought of Rin. I was so caught up in what she thought of everyone else. This was a really clever way to write the book and it built such a deep connection between me and Rin, even though she’s an unstable, dangerous psychopath who has committed genocide. It really takes skill to make me sympathize with someone so messed up.
Also, someone/some people died. Thank you. Thank you, R.F. Kuang, for actually keeping characters dead and not doing a random resurrection arc at the end.
The Burning God has everything I want in a fantasy book. Pain, pain, and more pain.
I recently discovered this perfect album called The Spell by Cellar Darling. It reminded me so much of The Poppy War series that I just had to dedicate a whole section of this review to the similarities between them. The album is exquisite. It’s atmospheric, haunting, and full of pain. While I was listening to it, I had the sudden thought that these songs sound like they were made especially for this series.
Every song is linked to a character, and I included in-depth explanations below.
Pain → Venka Death → Rin Love → Altan The Spell → Kitay Burn → the Phoenix Hang → Sister Petra Sleep → Jiang Insomnia → Riga Freeze → Daji Fall → Vaisra Drown → Nezha
Daisy Jones is Coming Your Way. From a young age, she decided that Heroes are Hard to Find and Sooner or Later she will have to carve her own path. ShDaisy Jones is Coming Your Way. From a young age, she decided that Heroes are Hard to Find and Sooner or Later she will have to carve her own path. She Dreams of being Everywhere and doing everything. The Six are Dreamin' the Dream for a while. Their album tops the charts by a Landslide, but it is a Temporary One. Then the band members start telling Little Lies to each other, and Rumours spread that threaten to break The Chain and ruin even the greatest Peacekeeper. Karen plays risky Future Games with Graham. Daisy realizes that maybe Billy isn't Mr. Wonderful after all—he's a Family Man, or is he? Billy, meanwhile, is Mystified by Daisy. It's Just Crazy Love. Daisy isn't really looking for Somebody, or for some Big Love. She doesn't want to say I Do, No Questions Asked, but she also doesn't want to Say Goodbye to Billy.
The Fleetwood Mac vibes are strong with this one.
I love Fleetwood Mac. I always have and I always will. I love the drama and tension between the members of the band. I love Stevie and her voice and her aura. I love Christine's quiet but strong keyboard skills. I love everything and everyone except for Lindsey Buckingham. He's annoying.
And my thoughts about Fleetwood Mac are literally the same as my thoughts about Daisy Jones and the Six.
I love Daisy Jones and the Six. I always have and I always will. I love the drama and tension between the members of the band. I love Daisy and her voice and her aura. I love Karen's quiet but strong keyboard skills. I love everything and everyone except for Billy Dunne. He's annoying.
Daisy and Billy are both headstrong, arrogant, and brilliant musicians. When they work together, they are a force of nature. But when they clash, the other band members know to stay away.
But what if the lesser known members like Graham, Karen, Ed, and Pete want the spotlight as well? What if they're tired of their opinions being overlooked in favor of Billy's or Daisy's? Can a band this tense ever achieve greatness?
Well, the answer is yes.
This book follows the band Daisy Jones and the Six on their journey to fame, and explains why they broke up. I love the drama. I love the tension. I love the gossip.
The author literally wrote the lyrics for an entire album and included them at the back of this book, and that's when you know that Daisy Jones and the Six is good. Really, really good.
This book is told through the format of an interview. I've heard that some people don't like the way it was written, but I thought it really brought the book to life. It doesn't need anything more than dialogue, really, to give the characters personality and ambition. The relationships between the characters were especially evident when the book switched perspectives, as it does every once in a while. They were built slowly and carefully. Each character had dreams and triggers, and by the end of the book, I felt like I really knew them.
Quotes from my Queens
"Men often think they deserve a sticker for treating women like people." - Karen
"That's the glory of being a man. An ugly face isn't the end of you." - Karen
"[Graham] seemed to think that his pain was the only pain that mattered." - Karen
"I came to hate that I'd put my heart and my pain into my music because it meant that I couldn't ever leave it behind." - Daisy
"I am not going to sit around sweating... just so men can feel more comfortable." - Daisy
All the problems I had with the first book were fixed. The story got bigger and more epic. The romance improved dramatically. And I fell in love with all the characters.
This review has spoilers for the first book. Spoilers for ACOMAF will be boxed off with siren emojis (...more
This is dark and heavy and not at all an easy read. It’s a story of vengeance, hatred, and manipulation. Added to tThis book thoroughly destroyed me.
This is dark and heavy and not at all an easy read. It’s a story of vengeance, hatred, and manipulation. Added to the bleak retelling of the darkest period in Chinese history, it’s a painful book to read. But it’s so, so good.
Rin, a peasant from the south, is a ruthless, determined, ambitious character who craves power over all other things. She’s a student at Sinegard, a prestigious military academy, but she stands out because of her dark skin and accent. She has to fight twice as hard to get to the top. Along the way, she discovers a power within herself that is fueled by her own anger. She longs to unleash it and burn the world down, but the gods are never to be trusted, and nothing comes for free. The grey morality is excellent.
"'They were monsters!' Rin shrieked. 'They were not human!' Kitay opened his mouth. No sound came out. He closed it. When he finally spoke again, it sounded as if he was close to tears. 'Have you ever considered,' he said slowly, 'that that was exactly what they thought of us?'"
Altan, the only survivor after his entire race was butchered in a previous war, is a complex and layered character. He’s filled with a hatred so strong it manifests itself in his fire, but he hides it deep within him, using it to fuel his brutality. He’s a raging force of nature, a sly, cunning commander intent on revenge--but his weaknesses and his strengths both lie in his fury.
This book does not romanticize war, and I’m thankful. We live in a culture where fighting is glorified and praised as heroic. The Poppy War presents a brutal, raw, and honest perspective where war is seen as the horrific, cruel act it truly is, instead of being glossed over. It’s a commentary on the horrors of human brutality and the violence we are capable of.
“Children ceased to be children when you put a sword in their hands. When you taught them to fight a war, then you armed them and put them on the front lines, they were not children anymore. They were soldiers.”
This is about strategy, politics, sacrifice. It’s not for the faint of heart. It’s intense, bloody--but extremely intelligent. Only a portion of the book is spent in the academy, but the lessons are well-researched and incredibly thoughtful. This is not your typical fantasy school story. It’s not really a fantasy school story at all. It’s a reflection on the ethical dilemma of sacrificing everything for the greater good, despite the unthinkable costs.
“Those weren’t lives. They were numbers. They were a necessary subtraction.”
The Poppy War is difficult to read. It’s a page-turner, but a dark one. The questions it raises are relevant, heartbreaking, sometimes controversial. But I promise you, it is worth it.
"Alessandra Stathos, that's positively despicable." He says the words like they're the highest compliment he can give me.
Alessandra is sick of he
"Alessandra Stathos, that's positively despicable." He says the words like they're the highest compliment he can give me.
Alessandra is sick of her life. She has always been pushed to the side while her sister gets the spotlight. But she knows she can do better. She has spent her life learning how to manipulate people to get what she wants. And now she's about to take what she knows is hers. The crown. Alessandra is going to marry the Shadow King, Kallias, and then murder him.
Managing people can be tiresome, but there's still nothing more satisfying than watching people do exactly what I say.
Before I started this book, I was worried about two things: 1) that Alessandra would be not like other girls, and 2) that Alessandra would fall in love immediately and forget all her plans to kill Kallias, or that she wouldn't be the merciless, manipulative genius the synopsis promised.
Well, neither of those points happened.
Thankfully, Alessandra doesn't become a Mary Sue heroine. If she did turn into one, one of my favorite scenes in the book would have been so different.
Towards the beginning of The Shadows Between Us, she waltzes into the castle where Kallias is seeing potential brides and ignores him. Instead of walking up to him, she makes him walk up to her. If she were not like other girls, she would go to the castle being like I don't need a prince, attract his attention for no real reason, and fall in love immediately. But Alessandra did all of this on purpose. It was all a scheme to attract Kallias's attention. She's not just some "intriguing" bumbling idiot. This is calculated.
I love Alessandra so much. She's smart and she's evil. What more do you need? One thing I love about her is how she has a passion for sewing and fashion, but that doesn't make her any less strong. Nobody makes a big deal out of it. It's just something she loves to do, and something she's really, really good at.
Her character is so consistent. It was truly a pleasure to be in her mind. She's calm, cool, and cultured. There were some little details that really brought her to life, mostly in the way she interacted with Kallias and the characters I call the Merry Thieves because they feel like characters from Chain of Gold--Petros, Rhouben, and Leandros. Speaking of them, I love the side characters. They all have distinct personalities, and it's so sweet how Alessandra slowly opens up to them.
And I look at my two friends. My first real friends. I thought women were always my competitors, people to be jealous of. How wrong I was.
I love Kallias. He and Alessandra are both villains, basically. They don't try to change each other, or make each other "good." They accept one another for how they are. The mutual pining killed me. The suspense is exquisite. The pacing is perfect in their relationship. I savored every moment of their interactions. They clearly respect each other greatly. Kallias lets Alessandra take care of her own business without interfering, and vice versa.
I do have a few minor problems with this book. The dialogue can be a bit stilted, but that's not a huge issue. Additionally, Kallias is a pretty soft villain. He's supposed to be a conqueror but we never see him do any conquering. The reason I didn't care was because this isn't his story. It's Alessandra's.
Also, there is no worldbuilding, but I actually think that did the book a favor. The place where everything happened—the castle—had a beautiful aesthetic and that was all that mattered to me. If there had been extensive worldbuilding, it would have held the book back.
The synopsis makes this book sound like a romance, but it's so much more than that. It's about twisted politics, betrayal, court intrigue, and manipulation, and I loved all of it.
4.5 stars
"I battle with my mind. Not weapons."
____
ALL. THE. STARS.
I adore this book. It's a complex game of manipulation and court intrigue. Alessandra is a compelling, purely evil main character. It was a delight to be in her head.
It's spooky season, everyone! Time to pull out the gray characters, malicious intentions, and morbid humor. And this book has all three.
Korede's sistIt's spooky season, everyone! Time to pull out the gray characters, malicious intentions, and morbid humor. And this book has all three.
Korede's sister Ayoola is a serial killer who has a hard time keeping her boyfriends alive. Korede doesn't mind, as long as Ayoola doesn't get blood all over her car. But when she sets her eyes on a doctor Korede may or may not be in love with, she knows she has to do something.
This book is hilarious, but in a very sneaky, dark way. Korede is calm about everything. She quietly cleans up the blood. She quietly stands by while Ayoola gets praise for everything. But she's actually kind of evil. I had a hard time deciding who disturbed me more. Obviously, Ayoola is the real killer, but Korede--she's evil, too, but in a quieter way. She sits back and lets her sister murder her boyfriends. It's a sin of omission.
The characters, while gray, were on the verge of being caricatures, however. Ayoola is the reckless younger sister, and Korede is the jealous, responsible older sister. Her thoughts were very straightforward, but I found myself liking the simple writing once I got used to it.
This wasn't a very deep or thoughtful book, but it was fun and definitely a perfect read for ~spooky season.~
When I finished the very last page of Vicious, I felt a breathless exhilaration course through my body in a stream of anxious energy. I had an urge toWhen I finished the very last page of Vicious, I felt a breathless exhilaration course through my body in a stream of anxious energy. I had an urge to get up and pace with impatience. I started this book in the morning and finished it that same evening when I finally looked up from my book, shocked by the dark sky. It was like exiting a movie theater after watching a film. Those hours you spent in the blackness of the theater are not actually part of time. They feel like a slice of an alternate world.
And that's how I felt after finishing Vicious. Drained, but full of impatient adrenaline.
This book follows a man named Victor Vale, who is obsessed with revenge. Eli, his old best friend and classmate, is now his rival. They are both EOs - ExtraOrdinaries - with shocking capabilities that could doom or save them both.
What makes a villain? If Eli is evil and Victor is opposing him, does that make Victor a hero? Does his intention excuse his actions?
All the characters are villains in their own way. Eli because he betrayed his own kind. Victor because he's a cold-blooded murderer. They may have started out with good intentions, but in the end, they are both terrible people. The grey morality is stunning. It's not what you might expect and it creeps up on you.
The atmosphere - haunting, eerie, dark - is helped by the writing, which is vividly malicious and clever. Aided by the alternating timeline, which builds mystery, the careful crafting of Vicious is apparent.
And oh, how I love the characters. Eli is a crafty, unpredictable megalomaniac. Victor is a calculating, merciless killer. They are my cinnamon rolls and I must protect them. That sounds wrong.
I love how Schwab kept us guessing. I loved how she made me feel sympathy for both sides and both situations. In the end, I wasn't sure whose side I was on.
Vicious stayed with me for long after I finished. It haunts me.
This book revolves around five main perspectives--the best man, the plus-one, the bridesmaid, the briHurrah, a murder mystery I actually like.
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This book revolves around five main perspectives--the best man, the plus-one, the bridesmaid, the bride, and the wedding planner. Jules, the bride, has arranged everything exactly as she wants it. The guests arrive at the island peacefully, and the wedding itself is going well. That is, until the guests find a body in the woods. The chapters alternate between the past and the present as long-kept secrets slowly unravel.
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I loved the format of this book. The short chapters were easy to get through, and the little time we spent in the present held so many clues that were interspersed in the past chapters. It was surprisingly fun. I don't usually read thrillers or mysteries, simply because I never really care about who did it. But The Guest List had me invested from the start.
The best part by far is the cast of characters. I hated them. They were selfish and jealous and petty, and that's exactly why they're amazing. Everyone is hiding something. They're not all perfect. They're flawed, gray--sometimes a little too gray.
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The way things came together at the end was genius, if convenient. I find it hard to believe everyone's secrets would so perfectly line up like they did. The ending, while sneaky, wasn't satisfying at all. The murderer had motivation, but it felt out of character somehow. Like it was trying too hard to be a plot twist, and forgot all about character development.
But this book was really clever overall, and it kept me guessing the whole time.
Funny how I hate angst until it's Cardan being angsty, and that angst involves him scribbling a certain Jude Duarte's name over and over again while iFunny how I hate angst until it's Cardan being angsty, and that angst involves him scribbling a certain Jude Duarte's name over and over again while ink drips onto his clothes but he's too busy pining over Jude to care.
Villains were wonderful. They got to be cruel and selfish, to preen in front of mirrors and poison apples, and trap girls on mountains of glass. They indulged all their worst impulses, revenged themselves for the least offense, and took every last thing they wanted. And sure, they wound up in barrels studded with nails, or dancing in iron shoes heated by fire, not just dead, but disgraced and screaming. But before they got what was coming to them, they got to be the fairest in all the land.
I was captivated by the way Cardan views the world. He was dismissed repeatedly, even as a child, and endured years of abuse before learning how to build a facade. He pretends to have a heart of stone and is bewildered by attachment, but needs someone to love him anyway. He isn't a warrior or a hero or a savior. He was a villain, then a villain in name only, then a king, but he remains a soft, vulnerable character inside.
Cardan had trusted Nicasia not to hurt him, which was ridiculous, since he well knew that everyone hurts one another and that the people you loved hurt you the most grievously. Since he was well aware that they both took delight in hurting everyone else that they could, how could he have thought himself safe?
This book is magical. The art is stunning and mystical and perfect. The writing is beautiful (as always) and depicts the world with such beauty and danger. How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories is a breath of fresh air—the fairy tale atmosphere, the razor-sharp wit, the allure of the fey.
The contempt made him feel as though she saw beneath all his sharp and polished edges. It reminded him of how his father and all the Court had seen him, before he learned how to shield himself with villainy. And doomed as she was, he envied her whatever conviction made her stand there and defy him. She ought to be nothing. She ought to be insignificant. She ought not to matter. He had to make her not matter.
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