I certainly wasn’t reading my way through the trilogy because I was dying to know what would happen to Dorothea and Hekatah’s plans to destroy various SaDiablo’s.

Watching Daemon and Jaenelle’s relationship begin and grow and change was what really drove me through the books. It’s an excellent romance, a middling fantasy, but utterly enveloping and kept me up past my bedtime for a few weeks.

Victor and Isabelle are my favorite Carroll protagonists.

It was OK as Jonathan Carroll books go, but the Big Reveal was communicated through heavy-handed exposition from slightly mysterious characters, which I hate. And, besides which, it wasn’t particularily moving. Still, the thing I love most about Carroll’s characters is that they are so unapologetically male, which is refreshing, and Harry Radcliffe is no exception.

Something about it reminded me of Jonathan Carroll (in a good way), but I can’t quite place my finger on it.

Other than being an inventive and original fantasy, it had large real-world resonance in demonstrating how conquered or otherwise disenfranchised people behave and are motivated.

Cute, fluffy read.

Morose introspection! I like it. More notable, however, is the beautiful choice of color. Black and greyish-blue on creamy white paper. Each part ends with a black page with full bleeds, like a fade to black. It makes you love books.

I’m surprised I haven’t heard of this book until spotting it in a pile at Green Apple. I think it’s because it criticizes the left without coming from the right. Who would’ve told me about this book?

A fan of the show, a fan of the man. Naturally, I loved this book as well. It makes stark what is so missing from our greasy, bland American food culture.

Amazingly bad prose. I couldn’t drag myself through it to determine if there was a story worth reading.