Hild is an easy book to admire. It's not an easy book to like. There are parts of it that do succeed - I especially enjoyed Hild's personal relationships (with her mother, with Cian, with Begu...). The problem doesn't lie there.

The problem is that Griffith has overdosed on the world-building. She's so determined to stuff every inch of the text with details and names that she forgets she's writing a story. I lost track of who nearly everyone but the main characters were early on, and I just couldn't face going back to reread the endless encyclopaedia of (mostly irrelevant) names.

That makes rating this difficult. I'd give it a four for writing (Griffith does write well, even if her subjects need trimming) and a two for enjoyment. It just goes on and on and on... I can appreciate how much research Griffith's done without needing to read every goddamn thing she's discovered. Granted, a heavy focus on world-building in fiction does tend to irk me so I am probably biased. To me, world-building is like salt. Just enough seasons the text, but the more you dump in the more indigestible that text becomes.

Three stars.