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isobelvm 's review for:
Six of Crows
by Leigh Bardugo
"We are all someone's monster, Nina."
Initially, I gave this book four stars but upon writing my review I've bumped it down to three. I quite enjoyed this novel but there is, unfortunately, a lot I didn't like about it. It definitely wasn't the five star read I'd expected of it.
Let's start with the good things. I loved the characters and adored their interpersonal relationships. There's a lot of complexity to these characters and not a single one is two dimensional - there's not a stock character in sight. However, I think it's their relationships with each other which are perhaps even more exciting than that, whether romantic, familial, or platonic. At risk of becoming spoiler-y I won't go into much detail, but the thread that ties these characters together isn't tenuous and I loved that.
The writing is fast paced and the plot is incredibly intricate - as a heist novel I'd hoped it would be, and it definitely didn't disappoint on that front. The obstacles the team come up against felt realistic and the plan was exciting and clever. There's a bit of suspension of disbelief required, of course, but that goes without saying for any fantasy novel, really. I thought the heist was really well done, which is a good thing since that's what the book is about.
Unfortunately, that's where my praise ends, and I have a few bones to pick. I'll start with what infuriated me the most (and I do mean 'infuriated'): whilst the descriptions of settings are extensive, the explanations of infrastructure and geography are inadequate. On several occasions I had to comb back through three or four pages to try to detangle what the hell the characters were doing because Bardugo had failed to properly explain it. For example, when the characters drill a hole in some glass - is this hole in the floor? is it in a wall? is it in the ceiling? I still haven't got a damn clue. It made me want to scream. Perhaps in future we can spare a few sentences of detailed, lyrical description in favour of an actual explanation of what's going on. I'm begging. It frustrated me to no end.
I also strongly disliked the exposition and the introductions of characters. The first chapter introduces a whole cast of characters we never see again, and the reader is absolutely bombarded with character names with no hint as to who's important and who isn't. I also found the world-building lacking. Even after reading this nearly-500-page book I still couldn't tell you what each of the grisha do and how they're different from each other. There are simply too many names for them. Corporalki and Inferni and Heartrender and whatever the hell else - what's the difference and am I ever going to find out if I don't read 'Shadow and Bone'? I've seen the Netflix series and I still have no idea.
Another bone I have to pick: these characters aren't teenagers and this book shouldn't be YA. The reading experience was tenfold more enjoyable when I decided to ignore the characters' ages and just imagine them as adults. There is no way you're convincing me that Kaz Brekker is seventeen and Inej Ghafa is sixteen. They're adults and I'm not accepting otherwise. And whilst I'm all for darker subject matter in YA novels, this book shouldn't be YA. Indeed, the only reason it is YA is because Bardugo made these adult characters teenagers. The themes handled, the events that take place, and the characters are all a bit too mature for YA.
Finally, the female characters in this novel are not allowed to be traumatised by their traumatising pasts in the same way as their male counterparts. There is scarcely a character in this novel without a tragic backstory, but whilst the male characters are permitted to become hardened and jaded and damaged by what they've experienced, the female characters must hold onto their empathy and kindness in spite of it all. Why? Why give these women such difficult life experiences if they're not allowed to deal with them? As a writer myself I always try to stick to a solid rule on suffering: don't depict the trauma if you're not willing to depict the traumatised. So why do Inej and Nina suffer so much if they're not allowed to be disturbed by it?
All in all, and whilst it may not seem like it, I actually did enjoy this book. I didn't love it but I didn't hate it. There's a lot in it I disliked but, ultimately, I am going to read the sequel to see what happens next and where the characters end up. At the same time, however, I was disappointed by it. I have to admit that I was expecting a whole lot more.
Initially, I gave this book four stars but upon writing my review I've bumped it down to three. I quite enjoyed this novel but there is, unfortunately, a lot I didn't like about it. It definitely wasn't the five star read I'd expected of it.
Let's start with the good things. I loved the characters and adored their interpersonal relationships. There's a lot of complexity to these characters and not a single one is two dimensional - there's not a stock character in sight. However, I think it's their relationships with each other which are perhaps even more exciting than that, whether romantic, familial, or platonic. At risk of becoming spoiler-y I won't go into much detail, but the thread that ties these characters together isn't tenuous and I loved that.
The writing is fast paced and the plot is incredibly intricate - as a heist novel I'd hoped it would be, and it definitely didn't disappoint on that front. The obstacles the team come up against felt realistic and the plan was exciting and clever. There's a bit of suspension of disbelief required, of course, but that goes without saying for any fantasy novel, really. I thought the heist was really well done, which is a good thing since that's what the book is about.
Unfortunately, that's where my praise ends, and I have a few bones to pick. I'll start with what infuriated me the most (and I do mean 'infuriated'): whilst the descriptions of settings are extensive, the explanations of infrastructure and geography are inadequate. On several occasions I had to comb back through three or four pages to try to detangle what the hell the characters were doing because Bardugo had failed to properly explain it. For example, when the characters drill a hole in some glass - is this hole in the floor? is it in a wall? is it in the ceiling? I still haven't got a damn clue. It made me want to scream. Perhaps in future we can spare a few sentences of detailed, lyrical description in favour of an actual explanation of what's going on. I'm begging. It frustrated me to no end.
I also strongly disliked the exposition and the introductions of characters. The first chapter introduces a whole cast of characters we never see again, and the reader is absolutely bombarded with character names with no hint as to who's important and who isn't. I also found the world-building lacking. Even after reading this nearly-500-page book I still couldn't tell you what each of the grisha do and how they're different from each other. There are simply too many names for them. Corporalki and Inferni and Heartrender and whatever the hell else - what's the difference and am I ever going to find out if I don't read 'Shadow and Bone'? I've seen the Netflix series and I still have no idea.
Another bone I have to pick: these characters aren't teenagers and this book shouldn't be YA. The reading experience was tenfold more enjoyable when I decided to ignore the characters' ages and just imagine them as adults. There is no way you're convincing me that Kaz Brekker is seventeen and Inej Ghafa is sixteen. They're adults and I'm not accepting otherwise. And whilst I'm all for darker subject matter in YA novels, this book shouldn't be YA. Indeed, the only reason it is YA is because Bardugo made these adult characters teenagers. The themes handled, the events that take place, and the characters are all a bit too mature for YA.
Finally, the female characters in this novel are not allowed to be traumatised by their traumatising pasts in the same way as their male counterparts. There is scarcely a character in this novel without a tragic backstory, but whilst the male characters are permitted to become hardened and jaded and damaged by what they've experienced, the female characters must hold onto their empathy and kindness in spite of it all. Why? Why give these women such difficult life experiences if they're not allowed to deal with them? As a writer myself I always try to stick to a solid rule on suffering: don't depict the trauma if you're not willing to depict the traumatised. So why do Inej and Nina suffer so much if they're not allowed to be disturbed by it?
All in all, and whilst it may not seem like it, I actually did enjoy this book. I didn't love it but I didn't hate it. There's a lot in it I disliked but, ultimately, I am going to read the sequel to see what happens next and where the characters end up. At the same time, however, I was disappointed by it. I have to admit that I was expecting a whole lot more.