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Jordan Binkerd (567 KP) rated Gideon's Angel in Books
Aug 15, 2019
Note: this review is transposted from my personal review blog, and so was originally written several years ago. I figured if I reposted it here, someone might actually read it….
I received my copy of Gideon’s Angel through the Goodreads FirstReads program. This in no way influences my review, except to ensure that I was able to get ahold of this book and thus review it. I have to say, I really enjoyed this one. I want to describe it as “steampunk,” but my understanding is that steampunk is usually set in the 1800s (or at least that level of tech and society) whereas this work is firmly set in 1653. If there’s already a term for pseudo-historical fiction with a fantasy touch set in that timeframe, I apologize for not knowing what it is and using it accordingly.
Things are not going well for Richard Treadwell. The English Civil War is over, the King’s Cavaliers lost to the forces of Parliament and Oliver Cromwell, and Charles I has been executed. Treadwell has managed to escape the destruction of his cause, and has spent the past eight years in exile in France, performing a delicate balancing act between loyalty to his exiled king* and his employer, Cardinal Mazarin. When Mazarin informs him that someone is using the forces of Hell to tip the balance in their favor and asks him to spy on the exile court to find out if it is one of the king’s supporters, Treadwell decides that it’s time to get out of Paris. He accepts a mission for one of the king’s more militant supporters that will take him back to his beloved England–to lead a Royalist uprising, one last try to oust Cromwell and his Puritan cronies. Treadwell has other business to tend to as well, including a wife who by now probably considers herself a widow. Unfortunately for Treadwell’s simple worldview, it soon becomes clear that Cromwell’s power is the only thing preventing the more radical Puritan elements from running roughshod over the whole country. Worse still, a demon from the pits of Hell has appeared to a radical Puritan sect masquerading as an angel of light and ordering the death of Cromwell so that the Kingdom of God may be fulfilled. Now instead of assassinating Cromwell Treadwell will be forced to save him–if he can find a way to fight the forces of Hell, gain some allies in his quest, and avoid d’Artagnan, a young Musketeer dispatched by the Cardinal to bear him back to Paris….
I really enjoyed this book. It’s not exactly “high literature,” but I think I’ve very well established that I care far more about a work’s entertainment value than whatever it is critics look for. The world Beal creates here feels very real, slipping in background historical information without making you feel like you’ve been lectured. Some readers will probably wish for more background on the English Civil War, and that’s fine. If they care that much, there are numerous good books on the subject. If they don’t, there’s a Wikipedia article that should give you a good rundown on what happened. Beal manages to evoke seventeenth-century London in all its grimy glory, much as it would have actually been aside from the fact that all the magic we dismiss as superstition is actually going on behind the scenes. Moreover, this magic very much resembles what you would find depicted in the folklore of the era without obvious modern embellishment. I’m not really all that well versed in the history of the Freemasons, so I can’t accurately speak to how they were portrayed here except to say that I very much doubt their claim to date back to the builders of the pyramids. Then again, I doubt they have the tools to summon demons too, so maybe I shouldn’t be too critical. Secondary characters generally proved to be interestingly complex, especially Billy Chard, but I am seeing criticism of how the female characters in the book act. They aren’t weak characters by any means, but they are constrained by their roles in society. Treadwell’s wife has pragmatically joined her fate to that of the officer who took over Treadwell’s land when he was banished and is pregnant with his child. Is she weak for this? Or is she a strong female doing what she has to in order to protect what is left of her family? Treadwell’s Parisian mistress follows him to England rather than stay in Paris and face the scandal of their liasion alone. Weak, for needing Treadwell by her side? Or strong, for following him into whatever dangers he may be facing? Finally, Isabelle decides to follow her father and the rest of Treadwell’s band into battle against the forces of Darkness, deciding that it would be better to fall by his side than live on without him. Possibly a sign of weakness, but look at her situation realistically. She and her father were driven from Spain for their Jewish heritage, her mother dying along the way. Jews do not fare well in the Christian world of the seventeenth century, not even in England. The lot of a young woman alone in the world is already hard enough in this time without adding the burden of religious and ethnic persecution. She would have no respectable means of supporting herself, and could conceivably find herself forced into prostitution–on her own if she was lucky, as no more than a slave if she was not. Is preferring death in battle to such a fate a sign of weakness or of strength? She certainly has no trouble speaking her mind, and in fact berates Treadwell severely for endangering her father when they first meet. I suppose I can understand where some people would find these characters and their portrayal to be weak and sexist, but I respectfully disagree. I submit that instead they are strong characters reacting realistically to a world where women are not treated equally–in fact, I would have more of a problem with them if they demonstrated anachronistic modern sensibilities.** The ending was a little deus ex machina, but on the whole I didn’t mind. I would say that I want to read a sequel, but I don’t think the author could come up with anything to top this in terms of personal impact on the characters–Treadwell’s internal conflict between hating Cromwell and having to save him is very well done, and I fear Beal would prove unable to find something equally interesting as a follow up. We never really got to find out what happened to Treadwell back during the Thirty Years War that introduced him to the world of angels and demons, so I could see maybe writing that up….I’d buy it, anyway.
CONTENT: R-rated language, occasionally harsh but I would argue not gratuitous. Moderately explicit sexual content, as you would expect from a work in this vein.*** A fair amount of violence, from both man and demon. Not usually too gory in its description. There is also a good deal of occult content, as the villains are summoning a demon they believe to be an angel. This demon’s lesser minions dog Treadwell and his friends, and there are multiple encounters with them. One is implied to be a golem, others appear as strange amalgamations of beast(s) and man. For me, this is adequately balanced by the recognition that, as powerful as the forces of Darkness are, God is far more powerful than they. Bottom line: if you’re mature enough to handle the other content, I don’t believe the occult elements should prove to be an issue.
*Charles I was executed, while his son Charles II went into exile. Just in case you were concerned with the historical accuracy of the book. So far as I can tell, this is pretty accurate. You know, aside from the demons and fictional characters roaming London…..
**Please understand, I’m neither defending nor endorsing the inequality of the seventeenth century. Neither is Clifford Beal, for that matter. I’m simply pointing out that it was how it was, and this was the world the characters would have come from. I’m all for equality, but to whitewash history and pretend it was different from it was….that way lies dangerous waters.
***This evokes more than anything a supernatural-tinged Alexandre Dumas novel for me….and you know how bawdry his musketeers could be when they wanted to be.
Original post: https://jordanbinkerd.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/review-gideons-angel-by-clifford-beal/
I received my copy of Gideon’s Angel through the Goodreads FirstReads program. This in no way influences my review, except to ensure that I was able to get ahold of this book and thus review it. I have to say, I really enjoyed this one. I want to describe it as “steampunk,” but my understanding is that steampunk is usually set in the 1800s (or at least that level of tech and society) whereas this work is firmly set in 1653. If there’s already a term for pseudo-historical fiction with a fantasy touch set in that timeframe, I apologize for not knowing what it is and using it accordingly.
Things are not going well for Richard Treadwell. The English Civil War is over, the King’s Cavaliers lost to the forces of Parliament and Oliver Cromwell, and Charles I has been executed. Treadwell has managed to escape the destruction of his cause, and has spent the past eight years in exile in France, performing a delicate balancing act between loyalty to his exiled king* and his employer, Cardinal Mazarin. When Mazarin informs him that someone is using the forces of Hell to tip the balance in their favor and asks him to spy on the exile court to find out if it is one of the king’s supporters, Treadwell decides that it’s time to get out of Paris. He accepts a mission for one of the king’s more militant supporters that will take him back to his beloved England–to lead a Royalist uprising, one last try to oust Cromwell and his Puritan cronies. Treadwell has other business to tend to as well, including a wife who by now probably considers herself a widow. Unfortunately for Treadwell’s simple worldview, it soon becomes clear that Cromwell’s power is the only thing preventing the more radical Puritan elements from running roughshod over the whole country. Worse still, a demon from the pits of Hell has appeared to a radical Puritan sect masquerading as an angel of light and ordering the death of Cromwell so that the Kingdom of God may be fulfilled. Now instead of assassinating Cromwell Treadwell will be forced to save him–if he can find a way to fight the forces of Hell, gain some allies in his quest, and avoid d’Artagnan, a young Musketeer dispatched by the Cardinal to bear him back to Paris….
I really enjoyed this book. It’s not exactly “high literature,” but I think I’ve very well established that I care far more about a work’s entertainment value than whatever it is critics look for. The world Beal creates here feels very real, slipping in background historical information without making you feel like you’ve been lectured. Some readers will probably wish for more background on the English Civil War, and that’s fine. If they care that much, there are numerous good books on the subject. If they don’t, there’s a Wikipedia article that should give you a good rundown on what happened. Beal manages to evoke seventeenth-century London in all its grimy glory, much as it would have actually been aside from the fact that all the magic we dismiss as superstition is actually going on behind the scenes. Moreover, this magic very much resembles what you would find depicted in the folklore of the era without obvious modern embellishment. I’m not really all that well versed in the history of the Freemasons, so I can’t accurately speak to how they were portrayed here except to say that I very much doubt their claim to date back to the builders of the pyramids. Then again, I doubt they have the tools to summon demons too, so maybe I shouldn’t be too critical. Secondary characters generally proved to be interestingly complex, especially Billy Chard, but I am seeing criticism of how the female characters in the book act. They aren’t weak characters by any means, but they are constrained by their roles in society. Treadwell’s wife has pragmatically joined her fate to that of the officer who took over Treadwell’s land when he was banished and is pregnant with his child. Is she weak for this? Or is she a strong female doing what she has to in order to protect what is left of her family? Treadwell’s Parisian mistress follows him to England rather than stay in Paris and face the scandal of their liasion alone. Weak, for needing Treadwell by her side? Or strong, for following him into whatever dangers he may be facing? Finally, Isabelle decides to follow her father and the rest of Treadwell’s band into battle against the forces of Darkness, deciding that it would be better to fall by his side than live on without him. Possibly a sign of weakness, but look at her situation realistically. She and her father were driven from Spain for their Jewish heritage, her mother dying along the way. Jews do not fare well in the Christian world of the seventeenth century, not even in England. The lot of a young woman alone in the world is already hard enough in this time without adding the burden of religious and ethnic persecution. She would have no respectable means of supporting herself, and could conceivably find herself forced into prostitution–on her own if she was lucky, as no more than a slave if she was not. Is preferring death in battle to such a fate a sign of weakness or of strength? She certainly has no trouble speaking her mind, and in fact berates Treadwell severely for endangering her father when they first meet. I suppose I can understand where some people would find these characters and their portrayal to be weak and sexist, but I respectfully disagree. I submit that instead they are strong characters reacting realistically to a world where women are not treated equally–in fact, I would have more of a problem with them if they demonstrated anachronistic modern sensibilities.** The ending was a little deus ex machina, but on the whole I didn’t mind. I would say that I want to read a sequel, but I don’t think the author could come up with anything to top this in terms of personal impact on the characters–Treadwell’s internal conflict between hating Cromwell and having to save him is very well done, and I fear Beal would prove unable to find something equally interesting as a follow up. We never really got to find out what happened to Treadwell back during the Thirty Years War that introduced him to the world of angels and demons, so I could see maybe writing that up….I’d buy it, anyway.
CONTENT: R-rated language, occasionally harsh but I would argue not gratuitous. Moderately explicit sexual content, as you would expect from a work in this vein.*** A fair amount of violence, from both man and demon. Not usually too gory in its description. There is also a good deal of occult content, as the villains are summoning a demon they believe to be an angel. This demon’s lesser minions dog Treadwell and his friends, and there are multiple encounters with them. One is implied to be a golem, others appear as strange amalgamations of beast(s) and man. For me, this is adequately balanced by the recognition that, as powerful as the forces of Darkness are, God is far more powerful than they. Bottom line: if you’re mature enough to handle the other content, I don’t believe the occult elements should prove to be an issue.
*Charles I was executed, while his son Charles II went into exile. Just in case you were concerned with the historical accuracy of the book. So far as I can tell, this is pretty accurate. You know, aside from the demons and fictional characters roaming London…..
**Please understand, I’m neither defending nor endorsing the inequality of the seventeenth century. Neither is Clifford Beal, for that matter. I’m simply pointing out that it was how it was, and this was the world the characters would have come from. I’m all for equality, but to whitewash history and pretend it was different from it was….that way lies dangerous waters.
***This evokes more than anything a supernatural-tinged Alexandre Dumas novel for me….and you know how bawdry his musketeers could be when they wanted to be.
Original post: https://jordanbinkerd.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/review-gideons-angel-by-clifford-beal/
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.