Well, I so didn’t expect to not like this one. I really loved the prequel, after all: that one was perfectly paced and a brillantly balanced mixture of sassy sarcasm and dystopian elements. This one wasn’t. Somehow, it all felt off to me, starting right at the start. My biggest issues were with the protagonist’s actions while her best friend was kidnapped, the villain’s incompetence, and the pacing.
Almost nothing of this is original, but it’s still nicely written. I mean, come on, the author is obviously a fan of George R.R. Martin. Or why did he put all of those ‚R’s in his name? Well, at least he has finished his trilogy – other than Martin. It’d be nice to read a sequel, though. Regarding the plot, that’s a blatant copy of Terry Brooks‘ original and breathtaking The Sword of Shannara.
‚The Two Towers‘ is better than ‚Fellowship‘ by far, because it is the second book in the trilogy: it doesn’t have to do all that introducing things and characters which the prequel did. Instead, it starts in medias res, right in the middle of the fights at Rauros – oh come on, I’m not gonna write a spoiler-free review for the Lord of the Rings, seriously. If you haven’t read it yet (you should!) then I’ll just tell you that I highly recommend this book. Please leave now, for this review is dark and full of spoilers.
This is bullshit. The language is ancient, the characters are boring, there are stupid poems and songs in the middle of the text! And there are no queer or diverse characters! It’s escapism and has nothing to say about the issues of our modern world! And it’s just so boring!
The final of the trilogy is the point where it finally reaches up from the depths of ‚Just above average‘ to ‚excellent.‘ It’s right here where Leigh Bardugo’s writing makes the great step towards that perfectness of Six of Crows: the story about Alina’s feelings and struggles and the war for the fate of Ravka reach their climax, and it’s breathtaking to behold at last.
This one isn’t as good as Shadow and Bone, but the introduction of Nikolai defintely makes up for it. When I say it’s not as good as the prequel, I really mean it. While the storytelling improves and Leigh Bardugo summons suprises and plot twists as Alina would summon the sun, the story as a whole suffers from a huge overload of love triangle.
So, I read it again. When I first read it, my head was still filled with the brilliance of Crooked Kingdom, so I guess I wasn’t very…objective. Anyway, I read it again, and I have to say: it’s not as good as the duology, but it’s still great.
Shame on me. Shame on me for not joining Team Abercrombie immediately. Shame on me for rating those other books three stars. Shame on me for not liking these characters in The Blade Itself immediately. I bow to Lord Grimdark and beg his mercy. And I kiss his feet and swear to never doubt his magnificene again.
No, it’s true. This isn’t a mistake. I haven’t had some sort of fit that made me miss that fifth star. I also didn’t sneeze so hard that I missed the fourth star. I’ve really, out of the dephts of my conscience and heart, given one of Sabaa Tahir’s books only three stars.
A murder mystery set on a ship in the 17th century with intriguing characters and a promising idea that does not unravel as magnificently as expected: everything is just what you expect it to be.