#book ramble

Taking so long to read it was not the books fault. Indeed, that was me running into burnout and being preoccupied with university stuff. But being somewhat less than fully emerged in this book probably didn't help the book at all.

There are so many characters, holy shit. And some of their names are so similar! Hawke and Hawkins come to mind. Additionally, characters will be named by their first name, last name, or nicknames and keeping apart who is who is no joke. The dramatis personae provided is somewhat useful, but annoying when you have to refer to it too often. this does come with the caviat that I do, as a rule, not really remember names (I think it's the autism) making this all the more difficult to me. Where characters are diverse enough in their thinking and acting i will be able to tell them apart by that, but for side and background characters that really doesnt work.

With this, there are also multiple storylines, and my issue with that in many books is that there is always some I prefer over the others and then I get annoyed when they switch to the ones I do not care for as much. Also because I often didn't immediately know where we were jumping to. it really grated my gears that when a POV switch happened it wasn't always immediately clear whose POV the book had switched to, causing moments of confusion. Perhaps if i remembered which names belonged to what people it would be easier, but sadly it was not. for fairness, I was reading the ebook. Maybe this is clearer in the paper version.

In this trilogy, I found myself intrigued by the characterisation of the mechanicus characters whom I wanted to stick with, only to be forced to read about these other groups as well... if I wanted to read space marines, I'd have picked up one of their books, you know? Regardless, the arcs of kotov, linya, and tychon were all very interesting to me, and eventually, around the second book, I started to appreciate locke as well. The way the warhounds were written actively annoyed me, but I am someone who has read a lot of books involving (were)wolves, and my expectations from that may have influenced how I looked upon these chapters. the many POVs in this book felt somewhat unnessecary, too, like, I am unsure what the marines or the warhound POVs truly added to the storytelling. I get why there was both mechanicus and bondsman perspective though, that was a very interesting and clever choice in worldbuilding that allowed the reader to see the two ends of the coin when it comes to the runnings of a mechanicus expedition. the eldar perspective was not one I cared for much, but I do not fault the book for including it because it did definitely add a completely different angle to everything going on in this book.

Characters

I am in love with them.

It probably helps that I’ve been looking forward to this book for ages, I’ve seen lots of gifsets and the occasional meta post, and of course I did watch three out of six crows swan about being fantastic for an entire season of a show that’s not even about them. But it’s not just that. There are a lot of technical literary ways you can analyze characters – arcs, themes, etc – but quite apart from all of that there’s just…are they compelling? They don’t have to be, for a book to be good, but it sure does help. And these six characters are so compelling.

(Also really likeable, which is even less necessary for a good story but which I do personally value. And I like these kids, I really do. Even Kaz “I commit atrocities without shame or remorse” Brekker. Wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley, or even a well-lit avenue! But I care about him and want him to succeed.)

It’s hard to devote equal time to six character arcs while also running a fantasy heist. Bardugo doesn’t try, but even the crows who get less screen time have complexity and depth. They’re all well fleshed-out, with full and distinct personalities and all that – on a technical level, these are really well-crafted characters. Top notch. Plus everyone struggles with different traumas and goals, and handles them in different ways, which gives us wonderfully varied arcs as they each move toward a deeper understanding of themselves, for better or for worse.

It also gives us really varied dynamics – some of them hate each other, some of them love each other, some manage to do both at once, some are just along for the ride. It’s as they pull at each other’s ragged edges that the story forms, in their different desperate needs and in what they can and cannot be for each other.

The show smoothed over a lot of the sharp edges and grey morality, most notably in Kaz. Kaz Brekker is a bad person. He does bad things for selfish reasons. His arc isn’t Learning To Be Good, it’s an ongoing question of whether he might, for the sake of the first person he has (quite accidentally) let himself love, consider maybe perhaps being slightly less of an amoral monster. I’ve seen this book described as “fantasy Leverage episode” but it’s really more Ocean’s Eleven, if Danny Ocean was a vicious bastard and everyone was seventeen.

And that’s great. I love that so much! Especially because the other crows run the gamut from shining idealism to casual self-interest (with a fun detour into “shining idealism but the ideal is violent bigotry”), so we really do get a morally complex story, without any easy black-and-white answers. One of the most kind-hearted people in the whole story has committed multiple murders and dreams of becoming a pirate. Kaz Brekker may do bad things for selfish reasons, but a lot of those selfish reasons boil down to “survive.” It’s complicated! It’s compelling!

Plot

It’s a fantasy heist, what more do you need?

Plots and counter-plots, double-crosses and last-minute improvisations. Magic, though it’s used as just another tool, as impressive and as prosaic as the gunslinger’s pistols. Dramatic climbs, elaborate disguises, cunning grifts, and some good old-fashioned sleight-of-hand. Six wildly competent teenagers, one impossible job, and four million fantasy dollars waiting for them if they can pull it off.

Well, okay, that’s just half of the story – maybe two thirds. The rest is flashbacks, showing us how these characters met and how they came to be the people they are; and stolen moments in between the action beats, where we see how they’re changing each other. It’s woven in really deftly. Our knowledge of the characters expands in time with the forward momentum of the plot, so that both parts of the story – the sorrows of the past and the edge-of-your-seat excitement of the present – get their hooks in you in tandem.

Worldbuilding

There are two settings in this book: Ketterdam, where we begin, and the Ice Court, where the bulk of the action takes place. The wider world outside these two cities is sketched in, alluded to in offhand comments and minor details of backstory. In theory, reading the Grisha trilogy would fill in those sketches, but I suspect it doesn’t matter. This is a heist story, after all: one entrance, one exit, and all the traps laid firmly between the two.

You know that thing authors do sometimes where they use the aesthetic of a real time and place, in the names and the architecture and so on, as a sort of worldbuilding shorthand? I’m a big fan of that. Ketterdam is clearly based on post-medieval Holland, perhaps in the late 17th century or so – a city of canals and commerce, with a ruling merchant class and a thriving criminal underworld, and a stock exchange at the heart of the wealthier district. The similarities feel like they’re just skin-deep – I don’t know that much about post-medieval Holland, but I’m pretty sure Bardugo has her own plans for the political situation in the wider world, which I assume is relevant in the Grisha trilogy. Here it’s not, and we have just enough detail to get a quick feel for the city, with extra importance granted to the politics of the various criminal gangs Kaz needs to worry about.

If I’m honest, I would have enjoyed a bit more detail in the worldbuilding. Ketterdam is vibrant and crowded, but it feels shallow; the only information we get is what relates directly to the characters’ actions. We’re told that it’s a big and complex city, but I don’t really have any idea what goes on there beyond, vaguely, “trade, gambling, and tourism.” But that’s probably just me. I’m unreasonably invested in worldbuilding. And anyway, we do get everything we need to understand the actual story.

The same is true in the Ice Court, the frozen capital of the Fjerdans. It’s a beautiful place, white and gleaming, and the parts that we see are incredibly vivid. We get scant glimpses of history and religion, the faintest suggestion of politics, and exactly enough of the city layout to understand the heist. We do, however, get a much deeper understanding of Fjerdan culture than we did of Ketterdam’s, because one of the crows defines himself utterly by the Fjerdan worldview, and his arc is largely about the difficulty of losing his place in that world and not knowing if or how he can ever get it back.

So yeah, we really do get everything we need to appreciate the story and the characters. I would have liked more, because I like worldbuilding, but what we do get is varied and satisfying.

Themes

I can’t really go in depth here without spoilers, so this’ll be a pretty vague section. I haven’t gone full lit-major on this book and I don’t especially plan to, but at a glance, the central theme is the tension between, in short, love and vengeance.

In long, several of the crows have the choice to embrace love as a force for healing and joy, or instead hold onto the (often violent) goals that have driven and defined them for so long. If they embrace love, it’ll mean letting go of the driving purpose that has kept them alive, and risking their whole identity (and possibly their lives) on a new purpose. It’s scary! It might ruin them! And it’s really not as easy as “love conquers all.”

(Big advantage of an ensemble cast: you can explore the same theme in different ways, with different outcomes, without having to settle for a single “answer” to the question posed by the theme. I really love it when that happens, honestly.)

Book TWs: Ableism (anti-autism sentiment), calorie counting I may have been naive when I judged this book by it's cover, i'm going to be honest with you. I saw this and though "oh! a book with recipes that cover for people with a variety of different needs! how nice!".You can imagine, then, that I was quite thrown off by the contents of the book. The first impression shook that believe a little. Recipes don't start until chapter 10. I skipped the preamble, because honestly I was just here for the food, and it seemed to be about raising autistic children and I am an autistic adult without any children so I figured I didn't need that. I just wanted to know what kind of delicious, sensory friendly foodstuffs the author has in store for us! this excitement was soon crushed as I got to the first recipe, and I am just goint to show you the whole page so you can get a sense of what i stumbled into.

So, some good things: page layout is great, the little icons that indicate dietary needs are lovely! in later recipes they also tell you how much the recipe makes and the estimated nutritional information which is great if you have to monitor that for one reason or another. but let's get to the rant. to begin, I am autistic and have adhd. I have many autistic friends. none of us enjoy drinking straight water. That is not to say no autistic people like drinking water, but it does make me put questionmarks on a supposedly autism-friendly cookbook to lead with it. Second of all: I don't need a fucking recipe to figure out how to put a glass under the tap right? am I the only one who thinks this is a weird thing to add as a recipe? I suppose it's probably done tongue in cheek but, really... is this the tone we're going for here? I felt somewhat belittled by this book reading this. anyway, i pressed on. a lot of recipes were just standard and seemingly random recipes none of which really stood out to me as particularly kid or neurodivergent friendly. A lot of recipes required a lot of different ingredients and different steps and kitchen appliances to use which definitely rules them out for my flavour of neurodivergence (the adhd task avoidance would never let me go through that many steps to make a meal, eat it, and then also do the dishes) but fine, I suppose, different people can handle different things, expecially if you're a parent cooking for a child this might not be an issue at all, and I also understand that to eat gluten free more work is sometimes, sadly, needed. Anyway, my various questionmarks about the recipes compiled with the inclusion of not one, but two recipes for communion wafers. what? no shade on anyone that needs gluten free communion wafers and decides to make them themselves, that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do. What confuses me is why they are here, in this book. It seems unrelated to anything? At this point, in between the water and the communion wafers and the whole first chunk of the book being about bringing up children, I was starting to realise this was a book written by a stereotypical "autism mom" I proceeded with caution, because I hadn't given up on finding nice recipes in here, though at this point I had told myself that I was definitely not reading the first 10 chapters. I should have stopped reading. because on page 215 I wa greeted with this sentence