A review by harukoreads
Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

3.0

I can see why this book is so polarizing, because while it is definitely a sequel to Gideon the Ninth, it is very, very different. 

I loved Gideon the Ninth because of the visceral writing, witty narrator, and engaging murder mystery. In contrast, Harrow the Ninth still has that same visceral writing (but with an added layer of weird thanks to about 40% of the book being written in second person), an emotionally broken and unreliable narrator, and so much buildup of confusion and illogical storytelling I debated if the author was ever going to explain herself. She does, eventually, but in my opinion she could have paced the revelations at the end of this book much better - instead of slowly ramping up the hints and clues until the climax of the story bursts into clarity, the first 90% of this book is incredibly discombobulating, and the final 10% has so many revelations I felt myself getting whiplash. 

I would not be surprised if many people DNF'd this book out of frustration because it is deliberately so vague. I held on because I enjoyed the writing style even if the story was frustrating, and because I have a terrible habit of being unable to quit a book even if I find it deeply unpleasant. Was this book unpleasant? I wouldn't call it an enjoyable read. You could argue the author deliberately frustrated her readers with a long, drawn out section of confusion just to make them sympathize with Harrow's broken state of mind and overwhelming grief, but frankly, I think it could have been cut short by at least 100 pages without losing the effect. After a while it was repetitive without adding anything new. 

I'm still rating this book positively because the final 20% or so of this book was just what I was hoping the whole book would be - strange but fascinating, devastating but hilarious. While this whole book is well written, certain sections dragged, and I just wish Muir had been a bit more willing to kill her darlings - that is, the long monotonous sections of prose, please leave my favorite repressed lesbians alone.