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A review by orionmerlin
Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros
adventurous
dark
emotional
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.0
Characters: 3/10
I’ve read IKEA assembly instructions with more personality than half of these characters. Violet is supposedly a bookish weakling who gets forcibly thrown into a dragon war college—and instead of collapsing in a pile of snapped bones and logic, she magically becomes a semi-lethal badass in a few weeks? Yeah, okay. She’s “fragile,” until the plot decides she isn’t. Her physical frailty is treated as character development instead of what it is: inconsistent writing. Xaden is your standard broody trauma goblin with a tragic backstory and a jawline sharp enough to stab someone with, but he has all the emotional depth of a puddle during drought season. Their romance is built entirely on intense eye contact and “we hate each other except oops our faces fell into each other.”
I’ve read IKEA assembly instructions with more personality than half of these characters. Violet is supposedly a bookish weakling who gets forcibly thrown into a dragon war college—and instead of collapsing in a pile of snapped bones and logic, she magically becomes a semi-lethal badass in a few weeks? Yeah, okay. She’s “fragile,” until the plot decides she isn’t. Her physical frailty is treated as character development instead of what it is: inconsistent writing. Xaden is your standard broody trauma goblin with a tragic backstory and a jawline sharp enough to stab someone with, but he has all the emotional depth of a puddle during drought season. Their romance is built entirely on intense eye contact and “we hate each other except oops our faces fell into each other.”
The side characters? Clones. Rhiannon is just “supportive friend with no real arc.” Dain is the designated wet blanket who exists solely to be controlling and wrong. Jack Barlowe is an anime villain who shows up like, “I’m here to kill you because... I hate joy!” Every other cadet blends together into a mass of weapons, pheromones, and one-liners. They die, and the book barely pretends to care.
Atmosphere/Setting: 4/10
Basgiath War College is supposedly the most brutal institution on the Continent, but it has the structural integrity of wet paper and the world-building of a fantasy TikTok video. The school’s primary security system is “try not to fall off this thing.” You’re telling me an elite military institution with literal dragons doesn’t have a better weeding-out process than “walk across a beam and hope for the best”?
Basgiath War College is supposedly the most brutal institution on the Continent, but it has the structural integrity of wet paper and the world-building of a fantasy TikTok video. The school’s primary security system is “try not to fall off this thing.” You’re telling me an elite military institution with literal dragons doesn’t have a better weeding-out process than “walk across a beam and hope for the best”?
The dragons perch dramatically on the school walls like edgy gargoyles, breathing fire whenever the author remembers they exist. There’s no real culture or politics beyond "Poromiel = bad" and “rebellion = maybe not so bad???” The atmosphere wants to be gritty, but the tone reads like a fanfic written during final exams. And the magic system? Please. Shadow powers? Memory powers? Weather powers? Why not just roll a D20 and assign abilities at random?
Writing Style: 4.5/10
Yarros tries so hard to be quippy, edgy, romantic, and profound all at once that the prose short-circuits. Half of Violet’s narration reads like it’s being delivered directly to a mirror while she applies eyeliner in slow motion. There are constant dramatic declarations—“I will not die today” is repeated like it’s a war hymn—and clumsy exposition dumps that treat the reader like a forgetful toddler. The pacing is erratic, slamming from breakneck action to slow-mo emotional angst with no warning. Every chapter ends like it’s begging to be turned into a Netflix episode.
Yarros tries so hard to be quippy, edgy, romantic, and profound all at once that the prose short-circuits. Half of Violet’s narration reads like it’s being delivered directly to a mirror while she applies eyeliner in slow motion. There are constant dramatic declarations—“I will not die today” is repeated like it’s a war hymn—and clumsy exposition dumps that treat the reader like a forgetful toddler. The pacing is erratic, slamming from breakneck action to slow-mo emotional angst with no warning. Every chapter ends like it’s begging to be turned into a Netflix episode.
Dialogue is either all sass or all angst, with very little in between. I couldn’t tell if I was reading a military fantasy or Riverdale: Dragon Edition. It’s emotionally manipulative without ever earning the stakes it claims to have.
Plot: 3.5/10
A girl gets forced into the wrong quadrant. Everyone says she’ll die. Spoiler: she doesn’t. There, I saved you 600 pages.
A girl gets forced into the wrong quadrant. Everyone says she’ll die. Spoiler: she doesn’t. There, I saved you 600 pages.
The plot is almost insultingly predictable. Parapet trial? Check. Secret powers? Check. Forbidden romance? Triple check. Government conspiracy? Womp womp. The “twists” are visible from orbit. The rebellion backstory is so underdeveloped it feels like a last-minute addition to justify Xaden’s angst quota. The story leans on contrivances harder than Violet leans on Dain when she’s injured (which is… constantly). And the pacing is front-loaded with drama, then sputters into training montages and forced romantic tension.
Intrigue: 5/10
Yes, I kept reading. But it wasn’t because I was dying to know what happened. It was the same reason you watch a reality show about hot people on a beach: not for the substance, but for the spectacle. The book’s addicting, but in that fast-food, empty-calories way. I was less “hooked” and more “morbidly curious.” I wanted to see how many genre clichés could be squeezed into one book before it burst at the seams like Violet’s vest full of dragon scales.
Yes, I kept reading. But it wasn’t because I was dying to know what happened. It was the same reason you watch a reality show about hot people on a beach: not for the substance, but for the spectacle. The book’s addicting, but in that fast-food, empty-calories way. I was less “hooked” and more “morbidly curious.” I wanted to see how many genre clichés could be squeezed into one book before it burst at the seams like Violet’s vest full of dragon scales.
Logic/Relationships: 2.5/10
This entire book operates on plot armor and wishful thinking. Violet is physically incapable of surviving this school, but dragons find her adorable and everyone with power wants to either save her or sleep with her. Her relationships don’t develop, they just happen. Dain is her best friend—until the book needs a controlling love triangle. Xaden is her mortal enemy—until they’re making out behind enemy lines. There’s no organic shift in trust or chemistry; it’s all plot-convenient emotional ping-pong.
This entire book operates on plot armor and wishful thinking. Violet is physically incapable of surviving this school, but dragons find her adorable and everyone with power wants to either save her or sleep with her. Her relationships don’t develop, they just happen. Dain is her best friend—until the book needs a controlling love triangle. Xaden is her mortal enemy—until they’re making out behind enemy lines. There’s no organic shift in trust or chemistry; it’s all plot-convenient emotional ping-pong.
And the world’s internal logic? I’ve seen more consistent rules in a toddler’s board game. The dragons can’t bond weak people—but then they do. The Codex is sacred—except when it isn’t. And the government executes people and forces their kids to train at the most dangerous school on earth? That’s not dystopia. That’s nonsense.
Enjoyment: 5/10
I enjoyed it like I enjoy watching a disaster unfold on reality TV: horrified, entertained, occasionally yelling at the screen, and absolutely not convinced I want to repeat the experience. It’s fun if you turn your brain off, but the second you think too hard about anything, the whole thing collapses under the weight of its own self-serious melodrama.
I enjoyed it like I enjoy watching a disaster unfold on reality TV: horrified, entertained, occasionally yelling at the screen, and absolutely not convinced I want to repeat the experience. It’s fun if you turn your brain off, but the second you think too hard about anything, the whole thing collapses under the weight of its own self-serious melodrama.
Final Verdict: 3.9/10 overall
Fourth Wing is a fantasy smoothie made of every YA trope that’s ever existed, blended into pulp, sprinkled with dragon glitter, and served in a chalice labeled “trauma.” If you're here for complex characters, innovative world-building, or a plot that doesn’t treat logic like a suggestion? Run. But if you want hot people with swords yelling about trust issues while riding dragons, hey—you’ll be at home in this flaming circus tent. Just don’t ask it to make sense.
Fourth Wing is a fantasy smoothie made of every YA trope that’s ever existed, blended into pulp, sprinkled with dragon glitter, and served in a chalice labeled “trauma.” If you're here for complex characters, innovative world-building, or a plot that doesn’t treat logic like a suggestion? Run. But if you want hot people with swords yelling about trust issues while riding dragons, hey—you’ll be at home in this flaming circus tent. Just don’t ask it to make sense.
Graphic: Gore, Sexual content, Violence, Blood, Murder, War, and Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Bullying, Cursing, Death, Emotional abuse, Misogyny, Toxic relationship, Grief, Death of parent, Alcohol, and Sexual harassment
Minor: Ableism, Body shaming, Gun violence, Infertility, Racism, Sexism, Suicidal thoughts, Cultural appropriation, and Classism
The book is highly violent, with an emphasis on survival at all costs in a brutal training academy.
Romance is a major subplot, with some explicit sexual content.
Morally gray characters and power imbalances are central to the relationships.
The pacing is intense, with frequent action and high stakes.
Themes of resilience, betrayal, and sacrifice are prevalent.
This book may not be suitable for sensitive readers, particularly those uncomfortable with graphic violence or explicit content.