REVIEW: SORCERY OF THORNS (Margaret Rogerson)

(Here be spoilers!)

Hello, friends. We once again meet under less-than-desirable circumstances. Here I am about to review a Margaret Rogerson book (which I was sure could not disappoint me), but like a wealthy aristocrat in Regency England looking to entrust my fortune upon a worthy heir, I was given this bastard child instead.

And it will not do.

Let me be frank: Sorcery of Thorns was so disappointing, you'd think it was my high school prom. I got all exited for half-inflated balloons and a $20 "party favour" that turned out to be an empty picture frame. I suppose it's my fault for getting cocky after The Starless Sea with my foolish, hope-filled heart really thinking my bad luck streak was over. And, well, to quote Othello, Act V, Scene i, "No."

Let's start with my list of disappointments. They are plenty. And like my prom, I drink to forget.

THE CHARACTERS

Elisabeth:

I hate doing this because each work is its own individual thing, but Elisabeth had all the personality of a wooden plank after the absolute gift that was Isobel (of An Enchantment of Ravens). I want to give some credit where credit is due and remind us all that Elisabeth is 16 and that she's not meant to behave as an adult, but regardless, she was incredibly reactionary and dull. Where Isobel actively used her knowledge (both new and old) to her advantage, Elisabeth is naive to the point of farce. She also makes some amazing logical leaps that are awe-inducing to behold.

Give her no information and she'll jump to the wildest conclusion that just happens to be right like:

But tell her something point-blank and she's all:

Elisabeth was incredibly bland and a protagonist purely by virtue of circumstance, not by any discernible quality of hers. Sometimes, like in Six of Crows, there's a point to be had in that, but in Sorcery of Thorns, it was a result of poor storytelling.

Nathaniel:

I don't have a lot to say about Nathaniel except that he was incredibly inconsistent. Does he like to lock himself away from others both physically and emotionally because he is terrified that no good can come to those who associate with him, or is he out giving blowies and running naked through the streets? Something don't add up, sis.

I liked the idea of his nightmares manifesting physically through his magic, but it didn't do much to add to his hastily painted portrait. And lastly, if I ever see the words, "tortured by the darkness within him only because he was so good" to describe a dude in a story again, it will be entirely too soon.

Silas:

Silas lacked dimension, but was overall the best character of the bunch. Demon butler? I'll take it. Was his entire purpose reduced to a teaching moment for Elisabeth? Obviously. But, again, I'll take it.

Ashcroft:

OoOoOoOOo, a villain who uses "progress" as a justification for their evil during a time of great industrial change? Unheard of.

THE PLOT

The plot was fine in theory, but was ruined by ...

WORLDBUILDING + EXPOSITION

Like I said, Elisabeth is a poor choice for a protagonist. She serves as a stale, unobservant entry-point into a world that is new to us. I came out of this book knowing next to nothing about grimoires except that sometimes they bite. Additionally, I had basically zero emotional reaction to her leaving Summershall because despite her constant insistence that Summershall was her everything and one true home, it seemed more like a summer camp for all the nostalgia she gave it. She had a far more convincing emotional attachment to the Royal Library and she worked there for all of three chapters.

The novel spends a great deal of time telling us that sorcery is generally frowned upon, but it can't seem to make up its mind. Though those in the library are painted as conservative on the matter and those outside forward-thinking and progressive, that's not actually... shown? Silas is consistently disguised on outings and sorcerers feel the need to keep their demons behind closed doors, despite the general public being fully aware and accepting of the source of the sorcerers' power.

A couple more things: I know Elisabeth was raised in a library and all, but considering this world is Regency-adjecent (which isn't an assumption, by the way — she literally tells us its 1824), I refuse to believe her naive enough to not understand the common dictates of the time when it comes to names. Referring to a man who's not your husband or brother by his first name isn't just bold or rude, it's outright reputation-destroying. The fact that a character only kind of mentions it once is astounding.

And yeah, let's talk about some of those little details for a minute: 1824? So this fantasy world also just happens to go by the Roman calendar? And is completely parallel to our own timeline right down to the forms and limitations of our technology? While actual sorcery exists?

Oh, there's colloquial use of the term "god" in this universe? Meaning there's a god? Where was this god during Demongate 1824 again?

"Medieval-style cannons," huh? Like the time-period? In Europe?

"Champagne," you say? As in... the region in France? After which Champagne is named? Which does not exist in this world?

It was minor details like this that dropped my rating down from 3/5 to 2.5/5. Who edited this?

CONVENIENCE

Now this is the big-ticket item. I cannot count on my hands and toes combined the amount of times that, in Rogerson's own words, information was "provided for Elisabeth's benefit" in the middle of a conversation. It was entirely unnatural every single time it happened and really helped hammer home the naivete of the character. You can practically hear the scene-wheels screech to a halt whenever Elisabeth doesn't know something (which is always), because god forbid she stay in the dark about something for the sake of effective storytelling. The amount of exposition truly was astonishing — you could end world hunger with all this spoon-feeding.

Also, I'ma say it — why did Ashcroft put a sleeping spell on the libraries if his intention was to have someone defeat the Malefict? It was a fantastic coincidence that Summershall just happened to house the one kid who was raised in a library ever and wasn't fooled by his spell. But he didn't plan on that. So what did he plan?

IN CONCLUSION

I'm sad because I genuinely wanted to love this (anyone down for a drinking game of how many times my reviews have this exact phrase?). But seriously, Margaret Rogerson utterly captured my heart with An Enchantment of Ravens. This book, however, is not only a departure in story, which is always welcome, but a departure in quality. The writing seemed rushed and undecided, the characters were dull, and the prose didn't quite possess that sharp, observant, and witty tone that I'm used to from Rogerson. Though by all accounts this was an easy read, it took me two weeks to plow through.

I think I would have liked this a lot if I were 14, and not because it reads better as a true teen book (discussion later on the hijacking of YA by NA), but because I don't think I had an eye for consistency or quality back then. But for now, Sorcery of Thorns joins the pantheon of books that I had high hopes for, only to become a thorn in my side.