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ashybear02's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
Content Warnings
Graphic: Sexual content, Murder, Gore, Infidelity, Sexual assault, Sexism, and Blood
booksthatburn's review against another edition
slow-paced
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
1.0
Soul of the Fire is the kind of bad that happens when someone who hasn't ever listened to what other people think decides to write a story with more than one character. It's sexist, full of colonialist attitudes about indigenous people, and excuses for genocide (depending on who is doing the killing).
Book CWs: Sexism, slavery, sexual assault, assault, murder, transphobia, genocide, death.
I should disclaim that I started with this book, fifth in the series, and the constant barrage of infodumps and backstory ensured I wasn't ever lost, just angry and exasperated. I hesitate to call Richard the point-of-view character because in the early sections this book rotates perspectives so rapidly without demarcation that it felt like the author was rolling dice to see whose thoughts we'd be listening to in each successive paragraph. That eventually settles down so that we mostly follow his new bride, Kahlan, but almost all of what she does is narrate what Richard is doing, so he’s nearly the pov character anyway. When she is on her own, her thoughts bend endlessly towards him. After several hundred pages we start following other characters in a different country (Anderith) and it takes until the final third of the book before these storylines meet. This wouldn't be a problem, except that the time spent in Anderith isn't balanced with the rest of the text. There's so much time spent there that some of the characters in Anderith feel more like main characters than Richard and his companions, but when they ultimately meet up he completely dismisses them, they're merely obstacles to his strategic goals.
Richard is a Mary Sue; good at absolutely everything he attempts, except that no one seems able to express the frustration that bubbles beneath their praise of his effortless prowess. There are little hints of it in the text, but they don't go anywhere because even when they express their frustration to Richard he tells then why they're wrong. Even the "strong" female characters constantly in his orbit oscillate between 1) asserting their individuality and genuine expertise or prowess and 2) fawning over Richard in a manner that is flirty but without any of the fun of good flirting.
The author must have once heard the maxim, “show, don’t tell” and decided it was clearly better to always do both. This, when combined with the simplest of essay structures (tell ‘em what you’ll tell ‘em, tell ‘em, then tell ‘em what you told ‘em) seems to guide most of the narrative style. There’s no chance to infer anything because everything is sloppily foreshadowed, then experienced, then immediately explained (often in the very next sentence). It deflates all tension immediately, preventing most circumstances from being dramatic enough to be interesting.
The word choice is flat and repetitive. While occasionally there are some genuinely interesting turns of phrase, they stand out out mostly because the rest of the prose is so dull. Most of the pithy sayings are just deepities, sounding profound but ultimately meaningless and unhelpful. The book also has a disturbing tendency for the prose and pacing to get noticeably better (but still not great) right before scenes with violence against against women.
You can portray cruel systems and terrible characters, but when the main character of the series justifies actions which are nearly or more horrific as the supposed villain(s) by saying it's fine because it's him... that's a problem. It changes from portraying toxic characteristics to endorsing them, and the overall result was sickening to read. If I were reading this for pleasure instead of as a reviewer I would have stopped after page eleven.
Book CWs: Sexism, slavery, sexual assault, assault, murder, transphobia, genocide, death.
I should disclaim that I started with this book, fifth in the series, and the constant barrage of infodumps and backstory ensured I wasn't ever lost, just angry and exasperated. I hesitate to call Richard the point-of-view character because in the early sections this book rotates perspectives so rapidly without demarcation that it felt like the author was rolling dice to see whose thoughts we'd be listening to in each successive paragraph. That eventually settles down so that we mostly follow his new bride, Kahlan, but almost all of what she does is narrate what Richard is doing, so he’s nearly the pov character anyway. When she is on her own, her thoughts bend endlessly towards him. After several hundred pages we start following other characters in a different country (Anderith) and it takes until the final third of the book before these storylines meet. This wouldn't be a problem, except that the time spent in Anderith isn't balanced with the rest of the text. There's so much time spent there that some of the characters in Anderith feel more like main characters than Richard and his companions, but when they ultimately meet up he completely dismisses them, they're merely obstacles to his strategic goals.
Richard is a Mary Sue; good at absolutely everything he attempts, except that no one seems able to express the frustration that bubbles beneath their praise of his effortless prowess. There are little hints of it in the text, but they don't go anywhere because even when they express their frustration to Richard he tells then why they're wrong. Even the "strong" female characters constantly in his orbit oscillate between 1) asserting their individuality and genuine expertise or prowess and 2) fawning over Richard in a manner that is flirty but without any of the fun of good flirting.
The author must have once heard the maxim, “show, don’t tell” and decided it was clearly better to always do both. This, when combined with the simplest of essay structures (tell ‘em what you’ll tell ‘em, tell ‘em, then tell ‘em what you told ‘em) seems to guide most of the narrative style. There’s no chance to infer anything because everything is sloppily foreshadowed, then experienced, then immediately explained (often in the very next sentence). It deflates all tension immediately, preventing most circumstances from being dramatic enough to be interesting.
The word choice is flat and repetitive. While occasionally there are some genuinely interesting turns of phrase, they stand out out mostly because the rest of the prose is so dull. Most of the pithy sayings are just deepities, sounding profound but ultimately meaningless and unhelpful. The book also has a disturbing tendency for the prose and pacing to get noticeably better (but still not great) right before scenes with violence against against women.
You can portray cruel systems and terrible characters, but when the main character of the series justifies actions which are nearly or more horrific as the supposed villain(s) by saying it's fine because it's him... that's a problem. It changes from portraying toxic characteristics to endorsing them, and the overall result was sickening to read. If I were reading this for pleasure instead of as a reviewer I would have stopped after page eleven.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Sexism, Slavery, Sexual violence, Sexual assault, and Death
Minor: Transphobia
CW for Sexism, slavery, sexual assault, assault, murder, transphobia, genocide, death.
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