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If the world ended, could you keep your morals and values? Imagine that your a father, with a young child in a burned-out world, barely surviving out on the road, and there are cannibals and murderers out to get you. Over time, you would watch your child become thinner and thinner, and every now and then you're lucky enough to find some canned or jarred food here and there, but it's only a matter of time before you can't find anymore. Soon, you would both be too weak to move - - - would you murder someone if they had food? Yet, most people out on the road are just like you, with no food and searching for more - - - in that case, could you kill and eat a person to survive? Or would you let yourself and your child starve, keeping your morals and values intact?
This is a scenario people may have to face one day, especially with the shape the world is in today. Even now people are faced with sticking with their morals and values, from helping our fellow man to the decision of holding a door open for a stranger. The Road, Cormac McCarthy's Pulitzer Prize winning novel, brings the very question of humanity to the forefront, as well as how hard it is to hold onto it.
The father, The Road's main character, takes us on a journey through the mountains in a burned-out America, but the fires that took over are never explained and they didn't need to be. Apparently having been on the move for a couple of years, he wants to take his young son South to survive the winter months that are very close by. Readers get glimpses of what happened the night the grid went down from the father's point-of-view, but so many years have passed that the memories are few, the facts aren't completely straight, and any type of life before the fires seems to have been just a dream. So the two begin the story heading South, dragging everything they have scavenged in their travels inside of a metal shopping cart, and the father isn't sure they'll make it out of the mountains before winter. He only has tattered pieces of a map that they have carried for a long time, having numbered each piece with a broken crayon they had found, making it hard to estimate how far they need to travel.
While traveling, they very rarely run into other people, at one point, when they run into a very bad man, the father realizes he hasn't spoken to another person (other than his son) in at least a year. This is mostly because the majority of people that are still alive are the type of people that would rather kill you and take whatever you have than speak to you. Even most of the houses they come upon are burned and abandoned, but the father sees these buildings as a chance to find food and supplies: "The roadside hedges were gone to rows of black and twisted brambles. No sign of life. He left the boy standing in the road holding the pistol while he climbed an old set of limestone steps and walked down the porch of the farmhouse shading his eyes and peering in the windows. He let himself in through the kitchen. Trash in the floor, old newsprint. China in a breakfront, cups hanging from their hooks. He went down the hallway and stood in the door to the parlor. There was an antique pumporgan in the corner. A television set. Cheap stuffed furniture together with an old handmade cherrywood chifforobe. He climbed the stairs and walked through the bedrooms. Everything covered with ash. A child's room with a stuffed dog on the windowsill looking out at the garden. He went through the closets. He stripped back the beds and came away with two good woolen blankets and went back down the stairs. In the pantry were three jars of homecanned tomatoes. He blew the dust from the lids and studied them. Someone before him had not trusted them and in the end neither did he and he walked out with the blankets over his shoulder and they set off along the road again. " The young son is usually left close by outside because he seems scared that either there will be bad people or dead people inside.
Throughout this incredible, heart wrenching novel, the father slowly becomes more ill with what seems to be a case of pneumonia, possibly caused by all of the ash that is in the air from the fires; this makes him cough uncontrollably. Yet, he doesn't focus on that he may not live too much longer, instead he tries everything to get his son as far South as possible without too much of a plan of what to do when they get there.
The horror of this book is brought to light by the realism of what could happen if the world were to end, when people lose their humanity and begin to kill and eat their fellow humans. It leaves us wondering if we could hold onto what we are today when the basic need for shelter and food become more important than another person's life. But the father and son are examples of the few individuals who are able to hold onto their humanity during the end of the world: they share supplies if they can, they don't kill humans or animals to feed themselves, and they live by one rule: if a person is still alive, they take nothing from them.
The struggle these two go through is very real and believable, and McCarthy's writing is so well done that this book is hard to put down. Even while reading, most won't notice that there is only one character in the entire story that is given a name; our two main characters are never addressed by anything other than Papa or son/boy. The father's worry about keeping his son alive and unharmed is heartbreaking, for instance, one scene where he believes that he and his son are going to be found by cannibals, he quickly goes over with his son on how to shoot himself with the pistol, so neither of them will be taken alive. As a parent, I choked up in quite a few scenes, including this one - - - and as with the film adaptation, I cried heartily at the end.
This emotional, dark novel is an amazing book to read. The Road is bound to leave readers questioning what they would do in the same circumstances as the father. I highly recommend this book to people who love dystopian novels, but beware, this is a story you won't be able to forget.
This is a scenario people may have to face one day, especially with the shape the world is in today. Even now people are faced with sticking with their morals and values, from helping our fellow man to the decision of holding a door open for a stranger. The Road, Cormac McCarthy's Pulitzer Prize winning novel, brings the very question of humanity to the forefront, as well as how hard it is to hold onto it.
The father, The Road's main character, takes us on a journey through the mountains in a burned-out America, but the fires that took over are never explained and they didn't need to be. Apparently having been on the move for a couple of years, he wants to take his young son South to survive the winter months that are very close by. Readers get glimpses of what happened the night the grid went down from the father's point-of-view, but so many years have passed that the memories are few, the facts aren't completely straight, and any type of life before the fires seems to have been just a dream. So the two begin the story heading South, dragging everything they have scavenged in their travels inside of a metal shopping cart, and the father isn't sure they'll make it out of the mountains before winter. He only has tattered pieces of a map that they have carried for a long time, having numbered each piece with a broken crayon they had found, making it hard to estimate how far they need to travel.
While traveling, they very rarely run into other people, at one point, when they run into a very bad man, the father realizes he hasn't spoken to another person (other than his son) in at least a year. This is mostly because the majority of people that are still alive are the type of people that would rather kill you and take whatever you have than speak to you. Even most of the houses they come upon are burned and abandoned, but the father sees these buildings as a chance to find food and supplies: "The roadside hedges were gone to rows of black and twisted brambles. No sign of life. He left the boy standing in the road holding the pistol while he climbed an old set of limestone steps and walked down the porch of the farmhouse shading his eyes and peering in the windows. He let himself in through the kitchen. Trash in the floor, old newsprint. China in a breakfront, cups hanging from their hooks. He went down the hallway and stood in the door to the parlor. There was an antique pumporgan in the corner. A television set. Cheap stuffed furniture together with an old handmade cherrywood chifforobe. He climbed the stairs and walked through the bedrooms. Everything covered with ash. A child's room with a stuffed dog on the windowsill looking out at the garden. He went through the closets. He stripped back the beds and came away with two good woolen blankets and went back down the stairs. In the pantry were three jars of homecanned tomatoes. He blew the dust from the lids and studied them. Someone before him had not trusted them and in the end neither did he and he walked out with the blankets over his shoulder and they set off along the road again. " The young son is usually left close by outside because he seems scared that either there will be bad people or dead people inside.
Throughout this incredible, heart wrenching novel, the father slowly becomes more ill with what seems to be a case of pneumonia, possibly caused by all of the ash that is in the air from the fires; this makes him cough uncontrollably. Yet, he doesn't focus on that he may not live too much longer, instead he tries everything to get his son as far South as possible without too much of a plan of what to do when they get there.
The horror of this book is brought to light by the realism of what could happen if the world were to end, when people lose their humanity and begin to kill and eat their fellow humans. It leaves us wondering if we could hold onto what we are today when the basic need for shelter and food become more important than another person's life. But the father and son are examples of the few individuals who are able to hold onto their humanity during the end of the world: they share supplies if they can, they don't kill humans or animals to feed themselves, and they live by one rule: if a person is still alive, they take nothing from them.
The struggle these two go through is very real and believable, and McCarthy's writing is so well done that this book is hard to put down. Even while reading, most won't notice that there is only one character in the entire story that is given a name; our two main characters are never addressed by anything other than Papa or son/boy. The father's worry about keeping his son alive and unharmed is heartbreaking, for instance, one scene where he believes that he and his son are going to be found by cannibals, he quickly goes over with his son on how to shoot himself with the pistol, so neither of them will be taken alive. As a parent, I choked up in quite a few scenes, including this one - - - and as with the film adaptation, I cried heartily at the end.
This emotional, dark novel is an amazing book to read. The Road is bound to leave readers questioning what they would do in the same circumstances as the father. I highly recommend this book to people who love dystopian novels, but beware, this is a story you won't be able to forget.
Sophia (Bookwyrming Thoughts) (530 KP) rated Eon: Dragoneye Reborn (Eon, #1) in Books
Jan 23, 2020
Both books are extremely long, but Eon and Eona are one of the best dragon books I've read - out of the few I've read so far.
Eon does start out pretty slow. It takes awhile for something to happen, and there's a political struggle for a good chunk in the middle - a complete (and perhaps unnecessary at times) possibility as to why the book was extremely long in the first place.
Eona, as Eon at the time, was an extremely annoying character. It takes her AGES to connect all the dots and she's extremely desperate to fit in. It's almost as though she hates being a female, even though she gets points for being a sword-wielding, kick-butt, no-nonsense character.
Eona, on the other hand, is longer than Eon. After the events of Eon, the Empire of Celestial Dragons are in chaos, and Eona and her allies are on the run.
Eon has now stopped with her disguise, but I don't like her any better than I liked Eona puttering around like a boy. In Eon, Eona was just desperate to fit in and make herself seem worthy. In the sequel, Eona just argues FAR too much with Kygo.
Eona, however long, definitely makes up for the many dull moments in the first book. It's much more engrossing and action-packed, bringing a fantastic end to two very long books.
<b>Eon</b> - Full Review
Blog: <a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2014/12/review-eon-by-alison-goodman.html">http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2014/12/review-eon-by-alison-goodman.html</a>;
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1038182170?book_show_action=false">https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1038182170?book_show_action=false</a>;
<b>Eona</b> - Full Review
Blog: <a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2015/01/review-eona-by-alison-goodman.html">http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2015/01/review-eona-by-alison-goodman.html</a>;
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1134057091?book_show_action=false">https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1134057091?book_show_action=false</a>;
Merged review:
The entire idea behind Eon, according to the Alison Goodman's note at the very last page of the book, was inspired by the cultures and histories of China and Japan. Of course I would be completely excited because I'm Chinese myself and dragons are wonderfully majestic and mystic creatures. I had to read it!
I also had to read it because I would then have the opportunity to not only debate with the only guy in book club (who actually recommended the book to me in the first place... are you happy?), but I would also get to throw a book at said guy. Actually, it would be throwing the book first, run away, and then maybe debate about it. But one can't debate when one runs away.
In reality, I did get the chance to smack him with Eon. He then "abused" me with his scarf throughout Lit class. One day, I plan to steal that scarf and hide it.
I don't intend to ever give it back either.
Eon is a fabulous idea. And I mean, phenomenal. The best dragon book I've ever read despite the flaws and not so phenomenal things, even though the amount of dragon books I've read in the past is relatively small. Goodman has certainly done a fantastic job with the world building of the Empire of Celestial Dragons and the dragons itself – a brief history of the Dragoneyes and the Dragons are compressed at the very beginning of the book (it was a bit confusing to me) and the rest is filled in throughout the process of the book.
I have to say I'm impressed. Quite impressed compared to my latest reads (Okay, they're not shabby, but I wasn't overly excited about them either).
The beginning of the book lacked a bit of what would have made the book so much better. All Eon and the other Dragoneye candidates do is train, train, train. Eon is made fun of by everyone – including his Swordmaster! – because he's not like the others, etc. Basically, life is all about that misery for Eon and the book follows the same pattern over and over again: train, disdain, train, disdain, train, disdain.
Oh, and it doesn't help he's really a girl, though approximately 99.9% of the people don't know (they do know he's crippled). I'm pretty confused as to what gender to use in this particular review. That, however, does not mean I'm a sexist. All I can say to this entire ordeal is the mere fact that it seems Eon is trying too hard to hide her true self. Not a problem with me because of the time period Goodman sets Eon in. But with the amount of Sun drugs she takes later in the book – I think those so called Sun drugs are simply crack – in an attempt to connect with the Mirror Dragon, it's really obvious Eon is desperate enough to fit in and prove herself worthy of being a part of the Dragoneye council.
It's not until the anticipation of finding out who the new Rat Dragoneye apprentice will be does the book become interesting. The majority of the rest becomes more of a political struggle among the Dragoneye council and the Empire of Celestial Dragons as Eon continues her training as the one and only Mirror Dragoneye since the last 500 years, with the pressure of the Emperor's supporters resting on her shoulders.
Quite a burden to bear. Plus, the middle seemed to drag a bit (read: political struggle). It even got to the point where I actually thought Eon would be better off if the story had been split into two books and the series into a trilogy instead of duology.
It didn't help with Eon as a character either. She is, by far, one of the most annoying characters I've ever met. Here's a bit of a sidenote: There aren't many Asians as main characters. They're usually the peeps on the sidelines, and even that rarely happens. When they ARE main characters, they're usually a sword-wielding, kick-butt, no-nonsense type of character (or they seem to be annoyingly stereotyped and I hate it, so I don't even bother reading it in the first place). And while Goodman does incorporate all of that in Eon's character (the kick-butt, not the stereotype), it was still very annoying to see Eon puttering about and taking forever to connect the dots (read: desperate to fit in).
The ending gets better – much better – than the beginning and the middle (read: beginning = training + disdain, middle = political struggle + desperation). The fantastic ending probably made up for the hiccups earlier throughout and possibly changed my mind about wanting to split the book in half. Eon is a semi-phenomenal ending to a phenomenal idea in a not so phenomenal first book in a duology, and I've yet to decide whether I should give the sequel a whirl to see if it improves compared to Eon.
<blockquote>Friendship is not something that can be forced.</blockquote>
(Except for one of my friends. According to him, he forced his way into us being friends. *sigh*)
--------------------
Original Review posted at <a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2014/12/review-eon-by-alison-goodman.html">Bookwyrming Thoughts</a>
<a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cG5gfBqJVzk/VA5BIojjZ9I/AAAAAAAAD1g/7srLUfpAGEU/s1600/banner.png"; /></a>
Eon does start out pretty slow. It takes awhile for something to happen, and there's a political struggle for a good chunk in the middle - a complete (and perhaps unnecessary at times) possibility as to why the book was extremely long in the first place.
Eona, as Eon at the time, was an extremely annoying character. It takes her AGES to connect all the dots and she's extremely desperate to fit in. It's almost as though she hates being a female, even though she gets points for being a sword-wielding, kick-butt, no-nonsense character.
Eona, on the other hand, is longer than Eon. After the events of Eon, the Empire of Celestial Dragons are in chaos, and Eona and her allies are on the run.
Eon has now stopped with her disguise, but I don't like her any better than I liked Eona puttering around like a boy. In Eon, Eona was just desperate to fit in and make herself seem worthy. In the sequel, Eona just argues FAR too much with Kygo.
Eona, however long, definitely makes up for the many dull moments in the first book. It's much more engrossing and action-packed, bringing a fantastic end to two very long books.
<b>Eon</b> - Full Review
Blog: <a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2014/12/review-eon-by-alison-goodman.html">http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2014/12/review-eon-by-alison-goodman.html</a>;
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1038182170?book_show_action=false">https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1038182170?book_show_action=false</a>;
<b>Eona</b> - Full Review
Blog: <a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2015/01/review-eona-by-alison-goodman.html">http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2015/01/review-eona-by-alison-goodman.html</a>;
Goodreads: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1134057091?book_show_action=false">https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1134057091?book_show_action=false</a>;
Merged review:
The entire idea behind Eon, according to the Alison Goodman's note at the very last page of the book, was inspired by the cultures and histories of China and Japan. Of course I would be completely excited because I'm Chinese myself and dragons are wonderfully majestic and mystic creatures. I had to read it!
I also had to read it because I would then have the opportunity to not only debate with the only guy in book club (who actually recommended the book to me in the first place... are you happy?), but I would also get to throw a book at said guy. Actually, it would be throwing the book first, run away, and then maybe debate about it. But one can't debate when one runs away.
In reality, I did get the chance to smack him with Eon. He then "abused" me with his scarf throughout Lit class. One day, I plan to steal that scarf and hide it.
I don't intend to ever give it back either.
Eon is a fabulous idea. And I mean, phenomenal. The best dragon book I've ever read despite the flaws and not so phenomenal things, even though the amount of dragon books I've read in the past is relatively small. Goodman has certainly done a fantastic job with the world building of the Empire of Celestial Dragons and the dragons itself – a brief history of the Dragoneyes and the Dragons are compressed at the very beginning of the book (it was a bit confusing to me) and the rest is filled in throughout the process of the book.
I have to say I'm impressed. Quite impressed compared to my latest reads (Okay, they're not shabby, but I wasn't overly excited about them either).
The beginning of the book lacked a bit of what would have made the book so much better. All Eon and the other Dragoneye candidates do is train, train, train. Eon is made fun of by everyone – including his Swordmaster! – because he's not like the others, etc. Basically, life is all about that misery for Eon and the book follows the same pattern over and over again: train, disdain, train, disdain, train, disdain.
Oh, and it doesn't help he's really a girl, though approximately 99.9% of the people don't know (they do know he's crippled). I'm pretty confused as to what gender to use in this particular review. That, however, does not mean I'm a sexist. All I can say to this entire ordeal is the mere fact that it seems Eon is trying too hard to hide her true self. Not a problem with me because of the time period Goodman sets Eon in. But with the amount of Sun drugs she takes later in the book – I think those so called Sun drugs are simply crack – in an attempt to connect with the Mirror Dragon, it's really obvious Eon is desperate enough to fit in and prove herself worthy of being a part of the Dragoneye council.
It's not until the anticipation of finding out who the new Rat Dragoneye apprentice will be does the book become interesting. The majority of the rest becomes more of a political struggle among the Dragoneye council and the Empire of Celestial Dragons as Eon continues her training as the one and only Mirror Dragoneye since the last 500 years, with the pressure of the Emperor's supporters resting on her shoulders.
Quite a burden to bear. Plus, the middle seemed to drag a bit (read: political struggle). It even got to the point where I actually thought Eon would be better off if the story had been split into two books and the series into a trilogy instead of duology.
It didn't help with Eon as a character either. She is, by far, one of the most annoying characters I've ever met. Here's a bit of a sidenote: There aren't many Asians as main characters. They're usually the peeps on the sidelines, and even that rarely happens. When they ARE main characters, they're usually a sword-wielding, kick-butt, no-nonsense type of character (or they seem to be annoyingly stereotyped and I hate it, so I don't even bother reading it in the first place). And while Goodman does incorporate all of that in Eon's character (the kick-butt, not the stereotype), it was still very annoying to see Eon puttering about and taking forever to connect the dots (read: desperate to fit in).
The ending gets better – much better – than the beginning and the middle (read: beginning = training + disdain, middle = political struggle + desperation). The fantastic ending probably made up for the hiccups earlier throughout and possibly changed my mind about wanting to split the book in half. Eon is a semi-phenomenal ending to a phenomenal idea in a not so phenomenal first book in a duology, and I've yet to decide whether I should give the sequel a whirl to see if it improves compared to Eon.
<blockquote>Friendship is not something that can be forced.</blockquote>
(Except for one of my friends. According to him, he forced his way into us being friends. *sigh*)
--------------------
Original Review posted at <a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/2014/12/review-eon-by-alison-goodman.html">Bookwyrming Thoughts</a>
<a href="http://bookwyrming-thoughts.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cG5gfBqJVzk/VA5BIojjZ9I/AAAAAAAAD1g/7srLUfpAGEU/s1600/banner.png"; /></a>
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Poison Study (Study, #1) in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – The Chronicles of Ixia merits closer study
Contains spoilers, click to show
This review is for the entire Chronicles of Ixia series.
The first trilogy, comprised of Poison Study, Fire Study, and Magic Study, follows Yelena Zaltana. The second series, also called the Glass series, follows her friend Opal Cowan in Storm Glass, Sea Glass, and Spy Glass. The final trilogy, Shadow Study, Night Study, and Dawn Study, is where things get a bit odd. Maria V. Snyder had thrown in a few short stories/novellas throughout from different characters’ points of view. Perhaps she got bored of just sticking to one POV, or maybe fans wanted more from the other characters, so the third trilogy is from Yelena’s POV in first person and the POV’s of multiple characters (mainly Valek, Leif, and Janco, with a few others popping in from time to time) in third person.
I’m not sure which editor thought it would be a good idea to have POV switch from first person to third person in the same novel, but—yikes—is it jarring. Even with the wonky POV stuff in the third trilogy, these books are amazing and absolutely worth your time to read. Snyder’s world-building is compelling, detailed, and original. The books take place mostly between two pre-industrial countries: Ixia and Sitia. Ixia is a post-revolution country ruled by Commander Ambrose. His personal body guard and assassin is Valek. In the first novel Yelena is in prison for murder and is offered the choice to be the Commander’s food taster in exchange for her life. She agrees, and throughout the first book she and Valek begin to fall in love.
Ixia reminded me a lot of Communist Russia or China. In its attempts to throw away the corrupt government and society that came before, it has also thrown out all culture in the process. The country has been re-divided into districts with numbers instead of names, everyone is forced to wear a uniform, all art and extravagance has been destroyed, people have to have passes to travel between districts, and magic is forbidden. Anyone born with it is killed (or so the reader is led to believe). But Maria V. Snyder does a wonderful job of showing the good with the bad in this totalitarian dictatorship. Everyone has a job and nobody goes hungry, women are now equal to men, and violence and sexual assault are intolerable. This is why Yelena ends up in prison in the first place: she murdered the man that raped her. Now, this is probably my first major gripe with the series. We learn that Commander Ambrose loathes sexual assault and will execute anyone found guilty of it, but apparently killing a rapist in self-defense is also an executable offense. And all of that being said, Ambrose still has his own personal assassin. It all feels a bit contradictory, but again, that’s what I like about this series: it does an excellent job of peeling back the layers of her fictional societies and pointing out that governments and people in power tend to be hypocritical.
Now, the series name (or rather one of them) is Chronicles of Ixia, but honestly, it should have been called Chronicles of Sitia, because that is where most of the story takes place and is by far the more interesting and vibrant country. Sitia is part jungle, part desert, and full of magic. The peoples are divided into multiple clans or tribes that are all unique and compelling. In the second book, Yelena flees to Sitia after the Commander learns she has magic, and there she finds the family she was kidnapped from as a small child. They are part of the Zaltana clan, a group of people that live high in the trees in the jungle. Whenever I read about them, I would have to remind myself that they were not wood elves or dryads, because while there is magic in these books, there are no fantastical creatures: all characters are human or animal.
Another fascinating tribe is the Sandseeds, a group of nomads in the desert known for two major things: breeding super smart horses and having Storyweavers. The Storyweavers are people who have the magical ability to see the future and guide others, but who have to do it really cryptically because reasons (I appreciate that this gets pointed out by an annoyed Yelena multiple times). And of course, the Sandseed horses are fantastic; they choose their rider and able to mentally communicate with magical people. They even have their own horse names for people that they like.
Besides the different clans throughout Sitia, there is also the capitol, the Citadel, which is home to the magic school and the Sitian Council. While very different from Ixia, Sitia is by no means perfect. Its Council epitomizes everything annoying and dysfunctional about a bureaucracy. While the council members are elected and come from every clan in Sitia, they are at best useless and at worst actively impede the main characters.
The magic school is interesting, though the story doesn’t actually spend much time there. I like how magic was done in this series: it usually runs in families, most people with it have control over one or two things (ie. fire, mind-control, telepathy, etc.), but those who have the ability to master more can become Master Magicians after enduring a daunting trial. Magic is bound in people’s blood, so blood magic is a thing and is obviously bad, and magic (and a person’s soul) can be stolen using an intricate and gruesome blood ritual that involves prolonged torture, rape, and then murder.
The power blanket is another interesting concept used in this series. Essentially is resides over the entire world and is the essence of magic, so magicians can pull from it to augment their own magic. However, if they pull too much and lose control, they can flame out, killing themselves and temporarily damaging the blanket in the process. I thought this was a good literary tool to prevent magical characters from being too OP (at least most of the time).
I especially like the romantic relationships in this series. Valek and Yelena are of course the main couple. In the first book they fall in love, in the second book they get separated, and throughout the series they regularly cross paths and save one another. Yelena and Valek are heartmates, and as the series progresses they both have to mature and learn how to trust one another. My biggest complaint about the romance is that all sex scenes are just fade to black, which I personally find a bit boring.
The other major romantic relationship is between Opal and Devlen. This one was a bit awkward. Opal actually goes through a couple of guys first: a stormdancer named Kade and another glassmaker named Ulrick. And I really liked that the author included this. Many people have multiple partners before finding their soulmate, and a woman who does is not a slut. Her relationship with Devlen, however . . . Well, she’s a more forgiving person than me.
You see, it turns out that Devlen is the man who kidnapped Opal a few years earlier and tortured her because he was trying to steal her magic. But he didn’t actually enjoy torturing her and never raped her, which I guess makes it better? Well, he manages to switch bodies with Ulrick and, as Ulrick, tricks Opal into dating him, then, when he’s discovered, kidnaps and tortures her (again) to gain more power. But then she steals his magic, he spends some time in prison, and the combination of the two miraculously turn him into a good guy, claiming that magic is what made him evil in the first place.
I’m going to be honest, I didn’t completely buy his redemption arc even at the end of the third book in the Glass series, but by the ninth book they’re still together and he’s on the good guys’ side, so I guess it was real. And I have definitely watched/read much worse evil asshole to boyfriend stories. At least Devlen genuinely feels guilty for the horrible things he did in the past and attempts to make up for them, and in her defense, Opal has to do a lot of soul-searching before she can find it in her to forgive and trust him, and even more before she can develop romantic feelings for him (that aren’t based on deception, anyway). Also, Ulrick becomes a huge jerk because of his newfound magical abilities, tries to kill Opal, and later gets assassinated by Valek. I appreciate what Maria V. Snyder is trying to do here, which is to teach through her storytelling how good people can become evil, and evil people can redeem themselves and be good. Their romance was uncomfortable to read, but it was supposed to be uncomfortable, because that’s how all parties involved felt.
Now, let’s talk about Commander Ambrose. Towards the end of the first book, Yelena discovers that Ambrose is a female to male trans person. This is revealed to be why Ambrose hates magicians so much: he is afraid that one of them will read his mind and then reveal his secret (which is how Yelena discovers it). After I read the first book, I was really pleased that Snyder did such a good job of depicting a trans person, as that’s really only a small part of his character, and those who know (mainly Valek and Yelena) don’t make a big deal out of it.
And then . . . I really wish that the author would have just left the issue of the Commander being trans alone. Yelena discovers it in the first book, she keeps it to herself because it’s nobody else’s business, the end. But by creating this weird intricate background to explain why Ambrose is trans, Snyder just kind of shoots herself in the foot.
Throughout the rest of the series, I kept hoping for some other LGBTQ+ characters to show up to redeem the blunder with Ambrose. I actually believed that Ari and Janco were a gay couple for the longest time, what with their banter and often being referred to as partners. However, if this was the author’s intention, it was never really explicitly stated, and the partner thing just seems to refer to them being partners in combat and nothing else.
The first trilogy, comprised of Poison Study, Fire Study, and Magic Study, follows Yelena Zaltana. The second series, also called the Glass series, follows her friend Opal Cowan in Storm Glass, Sea Glass, and Spy Glass. The final trilogy, Shadow Study, Night Study, and Dawn Study, is where things get a bit odd. Maria V. Snyder had thrown in a few short stories/novellas throughout from different characters’ points of view. Perhaps she got bored of just sticking to one POV, or maybe fans wanted more from the other characters, so the third trilogy is from Yelena’s POV in first person and the POV’s of multiple characters (mainly Valek, Leif, and Janco, with a few others popping in from time to time) in third person.
I’m not sure which editor thought it would be a good idea to have POV switch from first person to third person in the same novel, but—yikes—is it jarring. Even with the wonky POV stuff in the third trilogy, these books are amazing and absolutely worth your time to read. Snyder’s world-building is compelling, detailed, and original. The books take place mostly between two pre-industrial countries: Ixia and Sitia. Ixia is a post-revolution country ruled by Commander Ambrose. His personal body guard and assassin is Valek. In the first novel Yelena is in prison for murder and is offered the choice to be the Commander’s food taster in exchange for her life. She agrees, and throughout the first book she and Valek begin to fall in love.
Ixia reminded me a lot of Communist Russia or China. In its attempts to throw away the corrupt government and society that came before, it has also thrown out all culture in the process. The country has been re-divided into districts with numbers instead of names, everyone is forced to wear a uniform, all art and extravagance has been destroyed, people have to have passes to travel between districts, and magic is forbidden. Anyone born with it is killed (or so the reader is led to believe). But Maria V. Snyder does a wonderful job of showing the good with the bad in this totalitarian dictatorship. Everyone has a job and nobody goes hungry, women are now equal to men, and violence and sexual assault are intolerable. This is why Yelena ends up in prison in the first place: she murdered the man that raped her. Now, this is probably my first major gripe with the series. We learn that Commander Ambrose loathes sexual assault and will execute anyone found guilty of it, but apparently killing a rapist in self-defense is also an executable offense. And all of that being said, Ambrose still has his own personal assassin. It all feels a bit contradictory, but again, that’s what I like about this series: it does an excellent job of peeling back the layers of her fictional societies and pointing out that governments and people in power tend to be hypocritical.
Now, the series name (or rather one of them) is Chronicles of Ixia, but honestly, it should have been called Chronicles of Sitia, because that is where most of the story takes place and is by far the more interesting and vibrant country. Sitia is part jungle, part desert, and full of magic. The peoples are divided into multiple clans or tribes that are all unique and compelling. In the second book, Yelena flees to Sitia after the Commander learns she has magic, and there she finds the family she was kidnapped from as a small child. They are part of the Zaltana clan, a group of people that live high in the trees in the jungle. Whenever I read about them, I would have to remind myself that they were not wood elves or dryads, because while there is magic in these books, there are no fantastical creatures: all characters are human or animal.
Another fascinating tribe is the Sandseeds, a group of nomads in the desert known for two major things: breeding super smart horses and having Storyweavers. The Storyweavers are people who have the magical ability to see the future and guide others, but who have to do it really cryptically because reasons (I appreciate that this gets pointed out by an annoyed Yelena multiple times). And of course, the Sandseed horses are fantastic; they choose their rider and able to mentally communicate with magical people. They even have their own horse names for people that they like.
Besides the different clans throughout Sitia, there is also the capitol, the Citadel, which is home to the magic school and the Sitian Council. While very different from Ixia, Sitia is by no means perfect. Its Council epitomizes everything annoying and dysfunctional about a bureaucracy. While the council members are elected and come from every clan in Sitia, they are at best useless and at worst actively impede the main characters.
The magic school is interesting, though the story doesn’t actually spend much time there. I like how magic was done in this series: it usually runs in families, most people with it have control over one or two things (ie. fire, mind-control, telepathy, etc.), but those who have the ability to master more can become Master Magicians after enduring a daunting trial. Magic is bound in people’s blood, so blood magic is a thing and is obviously bad, and magic (and a person’s soul) can be stolen using an intricate and gruesome blood ritual that involves prolonged torture, rape, and then murder.
The power blanket is another interesting concept used in this series. Essentially is resides over the entire world and is the essence of magic, so magicians can pull from it to augment their own magic. However, if they pull too much and lose control, they can flame out, killing themselves and temporarily damaging the blanket in the process. I thought this was a good literary tool to prevent magical characters from being too OP (at least most of the time).
I especially like the romantic relationships in this series. Valek and Yelena are of course the main couple. In the first book they fall in love, in the second book they get separated, and throughout the series they regularly cross paths and save one another. Yelena and Valek are heartmates, and as the series progresses they both have to mature and learn how to trust one another. My biggest complaint about the romance is that all sex scenes are just fade to black, which I personally find a bit boring.
The other major romantic relationship is between Opal and Devlen. This one was a bit awkward. Opal actually goes through a couple of guys first: a stormdancer named Kade and another glassmaker named Ulrick. And I really liked that the author included this. Many people have multiple partners before finding their soulmate, and a woman who does is not a slut. Her relationship with Devlen, however . . . Well, she’s a more forgiving person than me.
You see, it turns out that Devlen is the man who kidnapped Opal a few years earlier and tortured her because he was trying to steal her magic. But he didn’t actually enjoy torturing her and never raped her, which I guess makes it better? Well, he manages to switch bodies with Ulrick and, as Ulrick, tricks Opal into dating him, then, when he’s discovered, kidnaps and tortures her (again) to gain more power. But then she steals his magic, he spends some time in prison, and the combination of the two miraculously turn him into a good guy, claiming that magic is what made him evil in the first place.
I’m going to be honest, I didn’t completely buy his redemption arc even at the end of the third book in the Glass series, but by the ninth book they’re still together and he’s on the good guys’ side, so I guess it was real. And I have definitely watched/read much worse evil asshole to boyfriend stories. At least Devlen genuinely feels guilty for the horrible things he did in the past and attempts to make up for them, and in her defense, Opal has to do a lot of soul-searching before she can find it in her to forgive and trust him, and even more before she can develop romantic feelings for him (that aren’t based on deception, anyway). Also, Ulrick becomes a huge jerk because of his newfound magical abilities, tries to kill Opal, and later gets assassinated by Valek. I appreciate what Maria V. Snyder is trying to do here, which is to teach through her storytelling how good people can become evil, and evil people can redeem themselves and be good. Their romance was uncomfortable to read, but it was supposed to be uncomfortable, because that’s how all parties involved felt.
Now, let’s talk about Commander Ambrose. Towards the end of the first book, Yelena discovers that Ambrose is a female to male trans person. This is revealed to be why Ambrose hates magicians so much: he is afraid that one of them will read his mind and then reveal his secret (which is how Yelena discovers it). After I read the first book, I was really pleased that Snyder did such a good job of depicting a trans person, as that’s really only a small part of his character, and those who know (mainly Valek and Yelena) don’t make a big deal out of it.
And then . . . I really wish that the author would have just left the issue of the Commander being trans alone. Yelena discovers it in the first book, she keeps it to herself because it’s nobody else’s business, the end. But by creating this weird intricate background to explain why Ambrose is trans, Snyder just kind of shoots herself in the foot.
Throughout the rest of the series, I kept hoping for some other LGBTQ+ characters to show up to redeem the blunder with Ambrose. I actually believed that Ari and Janco were a gay couple for the longest time, what with their banter and often being referred to as partners. However, if this was the author’s intention, it was never really explicitly stated, and the partner thing just seems to refer to them being partners in combat and nothing else.