Review: Queen of Shadows by Sarah J. Maas [SPOILERS]

★★★☆☆

I have seen two batches of reviews for this book:

1. The reviews that are all "PERFECTION" and "BEST BOOK I'VE EVER READ" and "BEST IN THE SERIES" and so forth.
2. The reviews that are all "I feel like I just read 650 pages of fanfiction" and "WHAT HAPPENED TO CROWN OF MIDNIGHT?????"

If I were basing my review solely on the second half of Queen of Shadows, I would probably be leaning closer to the former batch.

Unfortunately, there are about 320 pages in this book that are not the second half. And I understand all too well what those latter-batch people are talking about.

If you recall my review of Crown of Midnight, I was a mess after reading that book. I stayed up extra late to finish it, and even though it was a shorter book than the rest of the series, it blew my mind. I liked the direction the series was going in, I liked the complicated relationships between the characters, I loved the plot twists. I loved those big power moments when characters would swoop in, unafraid, and be totally badass. Sarah J. Maas's writing was just starting to develop those sentences that just kicked you in the gut or filled you with pride or made you want to blow up buildings, and I ate up every bit of it.

Heir of Fire, on the other hand, I did not like much. I gave it 4 stars out of obligation, because everyone was loving it and I felt like I was missing something, and it was a good book—once again, the ending was the best part—but to be honest, it took me a month to finish it because I was bored out of my mind. I wasn't interested in Rowan, had minor interest in Sorscha, and did not know where in Hellas' dominion Manon came from or how she was relevant to anything. My favorite part was Chaol's character development at the end, and Dorian. Always Dorian.

Which brings me to: the first half of Queen of Shadows. 

Where all of that character development, all of that love that had been painstakingly cultivated for each character, vanished. Chaol and Aelin in particular went back to how they acted right after Nehemia's death. And Dorian was reduced to a plot element, a source of tension between Aelin and Chaol.

Here are the problems I had with every character in this book:

Aelin: She literally blames Chaol for everything in the first portion of the book. She marches in with the arrogance I thought she had outgrown and accuses him of abandoning Dorian [CHECK YOURSELF IN THE GD MIRROR, GIRLFRIEND.], of still being loyal to the King, of hating everything she stands for. For some reason Chaol has become a symbol of everything wrong with Adarlan, even though she told him in Crown of Midnight that he reminded her of what the world ought to be. And it doesn't feel like she just changed her mind or saw some truth about him that she hadn't seen before; her attitude toward him is like he's beneath her now because she is a queen and he had the audacity to make a mistake that hurt her. It feels like the author changed her mind about him, and so the protagonist had to as well.

Additionally, she is ruthless and selfish in the beginning of the novel. The kind of ruthless and selfish she was in The Assassin's Blade and Throne of Glass. One of my main issues with her character has always been that she gives up on people far too easily, even people she claims to love, and there has been zero development in that area so far. I realize that she's bent on vengeance for the crappiness of her entire life, but at a certain point it just starts to seem like a childish way to approach the world.

Chaol: Before I start, let me say this: I am a Chaol stan. I love him, I think he's flawed and realistic and misunderstood, but I think all of that pales in comparison to his quiet strength and loyalty. When Celaena hated him and he'd broken his own heart with the mistakes he had made, he still took care of her. He put her on that ship to Wendlyn and stayed behind to give her the space she needed away from him. He stepped back when she required it, and his anger and resentment toward her were just as valid as hers toward him. They both still thought they had a chance with each other.

Enter: QoS Part I Chaol. Anger and resentment are apparently all he knows. He blames Aelin for Dorian's fate (the difference between them being that she refuses to acknowledge her role in it, while he's been beating himself up with guilt ever since he ran out of the throne room that day). He judges her and calls her a monster even though he had clearly begun to accept who she was in Heir of Fire. It was his main character arc. And by the time QoS starts, it's somehow been forgotten.

What I'm saying is that this book does a lot of takesies-backsies with these two characters. I don't want to make assumptions, but it feels like SJM ended CoM intending for Chaolaena to be endgame, and then she invented Rowan and blew those plans into smithereens. 

There's a part in QoS where it even feels like Aelin is acknowledging this: she tells Chaol something like "I hope I didn't give you false hope, with what I said that day. That I'd pick you." The thing is, Why did she even say it, if their demise has been planned all along??? I can appreciate that she was given the freedom to move on and find someone new to love, but I don't think this series needed to go that way; it doesn't ring true to me, especially given Rowan—which I'll get to in a moment.

Go ahead and tell me that Chaol supposedly loved Celaena and not Aelin, but that's a cop-out, if you ask me. She was Aelin the whole damn time—that's the point. He loved Aelin, even if he didn't know it. You can't just shut off who you are.

I almost don't even want to write about the other male characters, because I really, honestly can't stand them. I mean, they're all good and fine, but not my taste at all. Testosterone and pissing contests: somehow both annoying and boring at the same time.

Rowan: Aelin's carranam. Her "friend" who was strictly her "friend" in HoF and suddenly they spend a few weeks apart and now it's romantic between them, no matter how much they denied it in the last book. I would still like to deny it. 

• Possessiveness? Not romantic.
• Hero worship? Not romantic.
• Animosity toward any other male who comes close to her? Not romantic.
• Thoughts about getting your scent all over her? NOT ROMANTIC.
• Oh and he *hates* Celaena Sardothien? Remember when Chaol received that "You can't pick and choose which parts of her to love" speech from Dorian? Judging her for the identity she was forced to take on = NOT ROMANTIC.

Oh but he's a big strong Fae prince, the most powerful in the land of course, and he's spent hundreds of years JUST LOOKING FOR HER! SWOONITY SWOON

not

I basically just dislike how he's more concerned with making her his than he is with being her person. Their romantic relationship developed too quickly and it was too high-stakes for me to believe it (there were no small acts of friendship or love, it was all "you are my queen and I will die to protect you" and wanting to rip her clothes off and Aelin acting like he was more important to her than her own life). Remember when Chaol got her chocolate cake?

Aedion: I wish that he could have been more of a comic-relief character, especially with Dorian not himself in this book. He was basically the same person as Rowan, except less powerful, and related to her so not romantically interested [the first male character in the series who hasn't been, because SHE IS JUST SO AMAZING, AMIRITE?]. They picked up where they left off far too easily after 10 years apart, and he was blind to every single one of her flaws: that she makes rash decisions, that she has little concern for people unless she can see herself in them, that she'll blame anyone but herself for her problems. They bickered, but it was always about Aedion doing something wrong, never her.

Now, on to the good.

Lysandra.

Manon (eventually).

Elide.

Nesryn.

Asterin.

second-half Chaol

last-third Aelin

Kaltain.

Rowan at two moments in particular (the healing and that thing he did with the wind)

That one person toward the end who shouted, "All hail Dorian Havilliard!" (and Chaol pumped his fist in solidarity, wearing his #1 Dorian Fanboy t-shirt)

and

of course

the one and only

my precious baby prince boy

beautiful cinnamon roll

too good 

too pure

Dorian Havilliard.

The second half of this book would receive a solid 4 stars from me, as opposed to the first half's 2 stars. I'm still dropping one because of Rowan/Aelin and because some of the writing got too heavy-handed (we get it, everyone kicks ass), but the plot was much more intricate, the characters had more believable interactions, and just generally it felt more like the Throne of Glass series.

Mostly because the focus came back to Dorian, finally. We got little glimpses of him around Manon, because the demon was afraid of her (nice, Manon), and I actually hurt myself from flailing too hard, but of course it wasn't until the very end that we finally got Dorian back.

Dorian: So worth slogging through this book to make sure he got saved. He's the same old Dorian, but with haunted eyes and a new title: Precious Baby King Boy.

Lysandra: Girlfriend rocked this book. You don't understand how happy I was that she and Aelin realized they had been judging each other when they could've been friends, and that Lysandra proved to be more than Aelin assumed her to be, and that she got a chance to SAVE THOSE BIG STRONG MALES WHO WERE ABOUT TO GET THEIR ASSES HANDED TO THEM HA HA HA

Manon: You know, I still didn't care for her through most of this book. She was too ruthless, too insensitive, too oblivious to her own cruelty. And then she brought out the Dorian inside Dorian and I forgave her because that was literally all I wanted. And then Aelin taught her a lesson in mercy, and Manon did the honorable thing and returned the favor. BY STOPPING HER FROM KILLING DORIAN.

You see what's really important to me, don't you.

Oh, and then she saved her witches and Elide I swear to god if SJM reneges on this character development in the next book I'll quit the whole series

just kidding no I won't because Dorian

Elide: The cowering and shaking grated on me because I'm so used to all the female characters in this series doing things, but eventually I grew to love her.

Nesryn: I like her. I want more of her, because I refuse to accept that she's just another kickass girl with a crush on Chaol, who's pretty much just like "okay cool"

etc. etc.

Anyway.

What I took away from this book is that I am no longer going to view this series the way I once did—as a story about a hidden queen coming back into her power and finding someone to stand by her side along the way. She did that, and it wasn't satisfying to me.

I'm going to view this series as a story about a queen, hidden because of tragedy, forced to become a weapon before she could take back her kingdom, who learns about friendship from two boys whose bond is stronger than any magic. Because that, for me, is what this book ended up being about. Dorian and Chaol. Heir of Fire was painful because there was a crack in their foundation; they didn't know if they could breach the distance between them. Queen of Shadows was rewarding because they did. In HoF, Dorian sacrificed himself for Chaol. In QoS, Chaol sacrificed himself for Dorian—and only made it out alive because of Aelin.

This book may not have been what I wanted, but the ending alone made it enough.

Review: The Sin Eater's Daughter by Melinda Salisbury

Look. At that. Cover.

★★★½

Source: e-galley from edelweiss

Publication: February 24, 2015, Scholastic

I feel like I've been waiting forever to read this book. I first saw it on Scholastic's catalog last Spring when the cover was slightly different (but still very, very pretty) and my coworker and I read the synopsis and both of us were like, "That. Sounds. Awesome." So, since Scholastic rarely, for some reason, sends actual galleys to our store, I've been checking Edelweiss for the DRC regularly for the past — oh, 9 months? And then our rep, who hates fantasy, posted a glowing review, and my hands got even more grabby, but STILL NO GALLEY.

And then, finally, a month before the book is released, it was there.

And then my Nook stopped working.

And then I got scammed on eBay trying to buy a Kindle to replace it.

I did not get to read the book until I went to Best Buy on Super Bowl Sunday to buy a Kindle FULL PRICE (I am defeated and ashamed). I had to deal with a salesman for this book, you guys.

Was it worth it?

Yes, I would say that it was. Probably I could have waited until the book was out to read it, because I was always planning to buy it either way (dat cover), but I'm glad I read it early. Because now I can actually sell it.

Basically, what the book is about is this: Twylla is the Sin Eater's Daughter — her mother is a giant woman who eats food off of caskets to wash the dead of their sins. Twylla grew up knowing that this would be her fate eventually; when her mother died, she was to become the next Sin Eater. She did not want to be a Sin Eater.

Then, the royal family requests her mother's services and end up taking Twylla away to be Daunen Embodied. Without getting into the mythological details, that means that after drinking a concoction of poison and her own blood, her skin can poison other people with a single touch. She is to be the executioner for traitors until she marries the prince, Merek, and becomes queen.

[cue the twist] But then she meets Lief, her new guard who shows her that all is not as it seems, and she must decide her fate.

Bum bum BUUMMMMMM

My favorite thing about this book was the mythology and world-building. I'd never heard of Sin Eating before, and it does not sound pleasant, but I totally believed that it would be something certain religions or cultures would practice. I believed the myth of Daunen Embodied and the gods who created her. There is no other YA fantasy that achieves quite this level of myth-weaving and directly relates it to the main character. I mean, Twylla's relationship to her religion was kind of the driving factor of the whole plot, and it was done very well. The first-person narration allows the reader to suspend disbelief until the very moment Twylla stops doing it herself.

And there wasn't only mythology, either. There were fairy tales so entwined in reality that real people would die for mentioning them. As a sucker for symbolism and all that AP English stuff, I really appreciated the symbolism of all of this, the line between tale and reality, smashed in our faces like delicious pie when Twylla goes to a "House of Glass" (house of mirrors, fun house) with Merek and he thinks the mirrors show the exact truth at all times. She can see that he's wrong, because there is someone in the room whose position hides him from all the mirrors but the one behind Merek— so Merek can't see him, but Twylla can. In her life nobody has ever told her the whole truth, but now she's the one looking out for the lies.

The writing was enough to keep me reading, if not super heavy on style or lyricism. I expected more on that front, but it was unique enough to the story that it didn't feel anachronistic or tone deaf (like, say, Snow Like Ashes).

My main gripe about the book is that Twylla does not get to act much. She spends the whole book reacting to things other people tell her and do to her. Her relationship with Lief didn't convince me that it had to be; it seemed more of a convenience relationship than anything. She fell in love with him in much the same way that Juliette Ferrars fell in love with Adam Kent: because he was the first male around her age to ever be nice to her or take an interest in her. Maybe this was on purpose, because of Big Plot Twist At End, but it made a good portion of the book feel too melodramatic and overdone. If you don't buy into a love story, you can't relish its drama.

There was also the fact that Twylla's emotional stakes rested so much on this love story that she completely forgot about her original emotional stakes: her sister. She only agreed to everything the queen asked because her sister would pay if she didn't, but then she stopped thinking about her sister altogether once she fell in love with Lief (aside from telling him stories about her childhood). No me gusta.

That said, her relationship with Merek interested me a lot. It reminded me a bit of Celaena and Dorian from Throne of Glass, except that for a part of the book you're not sure about Merek's motives. He could be totally evil or totally good, and I liked that ambiguity while it lasted. You don't even have to give me a romance on this one, because I so enjoy dudes respecting ladies after they've been "friendzoned." Or even without any romantic context whatsoever.

Aside from a couple of things that were mentioned and then never addressed again (e.g. Twylla's brothers), I thought the plot was solid and built well into the next book, though I'm wondering if it's going to be more of a companion than a sequel. We'll see.

Overall a very different, compelling fantasy world with somewhat lackluster characters who have a lot of potential.

Review: An Ember in the Ashes (April 2015)

★★★★¾

I received this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Oops?

With An Ember in the Ashes, I let myself do the thing I never let myself do, which is have high expectations before going into a book. It's usually a mistake, and I usually end up resenting the people who give me those high expectations when the book inevitably does not live up to the hype.

But this one. This one.

"You're not like other books," I said to it, because unlike with girls, that is actually a compliment to books.

"I know," it replied.

In her debut novel (debut novel!??), Sabaa Tahir tackles a lot of things. Race, class, slavery, war, gender, family, magic, and a little bit of romance. It takes place in Serra, a Middle Eastern-esque country divided between the conquering Martials and the conquered Scholars, which bear a remarkable likeness to the Spartans and the Athenians. Laia and her family are Scholars, eking out a modest and repressed existence among what is left of their people, while Elias is a Martial soldier who has been training at the military school Blackcliff since he was about eight years old. That's right, these people aren't messing around.

When a Mask (a graduated Blackcliff student and military officer) comes to Laia's home, kills her grandparents and takes her brother, she sets out to find the Resistance—the group of rebel Scholars who have been working for years to take the country back from the Martials—and convince them to help her find her brother, who may already be dead. But of course, nobody in this world does anything for free, and in exchange for their help, Laia must infiltrate Blackcliff in the most dangerous way possible: being a slave for the ruthless Commandant, who's been known to disfigure slaves immediately and kill them after about two weeks.

It's there that she meets Elias, of course, but what I loved about this book is that the two of them have their own distinct stories going on, and while meeting each other certainly affects those stories, it doesn't drive them. The plot does not fall into the black hole of clandestine hookups and constant excuses for the main characters to be together; it allows their relationship to take a backseat to their story. Laia has a brother to save and Elias has a competition to not-win and they both have a few shady characters to figure out. There are hints that the two of them have entwined fates, but the book is written in first-person present tense for a reason: you can look to the future if you want, but sometimes the now takes precedent. Laia and Elias are both suspicious of the Augurs who insist on waxing didactic about things to come, and their refusal to stray toward those enigmatic storylines is, at this point, what will keep readers reading.

The world of An Ember in the Ashes is unique but simple— we are already familiar with the concept of a scholar state and a military state, and even a world where those two states are at war. By adding its own names, magic, and mythology, it designates itself as high fantasy, and does so more naturally and more successfully than others because every element is so organic to the setting. The magic feels Middle Eastern; the legends sound Middle Eastern. It's hard to imagine this world without them.

The setting provides a foundation for the race and class politics that are inextricable from the story— the dynamic being that race has essentially no bearing on class. How refreshing it is to see the "lower," i.e. conquered class comprised of both darker-skinned, darker haired people and fair-skinned, redheaded or blonde people. Likewise to see the Commandant with fair skin and blonde hair, but one of her slaves with the same. I can't wait to see more of this in both this series and YA in general, the way we have already seen some of the female gender role obliteration that Tahir has given us. [Helene and the Commandant are powerful women in the military, one of whom is constantly underestimated by everyone around her, and the other who has only ever been underestimated by her father. But Strong Female Characters are not the only kind of female characters in this story—Laia herself is no warrior. She believes herself weak, has insecurities and makes mistakes, but she is compelling because despite this, she keeps trying. By the end of the novel, she has discovered her own ability to grow into whoever she wants to be, and it's honestly one of the most empowering reading experiences I've ever had.]

Would I have liked to see more male gender role obliteration? Yes. Other than Darin being the one in need of rescue by his little sister, men aren't really presented as being capable of weakness. All of the men in the book are warriors, rebels or swordsmiths, none slaves or kitchen workers. Possibly the closest it came was Zak, the reluctant, softhearted warrior living in his brother's shadow, or Leander, who's always obsessing over his fiancé. But they are both still warriors. Along with that could maybe have been the threat of rape to men, too; the book certainly doesn't shy away from the threat of rape to a slave or even a female soldier in a school full of male soldiers, but why couldn't the Commandant's cruelty have extended to men weaker than her, too*? Why did the boys never have to be afraid of a woman more powerful than them? Rape is not a crime committed exclusively by men with female victims, and while I appreciate the look at what it's like for these women (especially as it reflects so many social orders in the real world), the book could have been a little more empathetic and progressive in that respect. Yes all women, but not just women.

*Though it is fantastic that rape is not portrayed as the only or even the worst thing that could happen to a woman—the Commandant leaves people with physical scars that will affect their entire lives. The women who are victims are not always victims because they have ladyparts.

But this is only the first book in the series, and the next book promises to bring new things. Along with the development of Elias and Laia's relationship (and the changes in their relationships with Helene and Keenan), which has been believable and perfectly-paced, it's already set up the primary goal and destination for the next book. And I am so, so looking forward to it.

Recommended for: EVERYONE, specifically fans of Legend by Marie Lu, Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas, The Winner's Curse by Marie Rutkoski