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From the very first scene, we, as readers, are thrust into the thick of the action, which reveals Sophia’s true personality. Within a few pages, her character is established as strong, cunning, fearless, and a little reckless as she rescues the Bonnards from prison, while we also get our first introduction to Spear Hammond, her best friend from childhood, Gerard, a lowly gendarme hoping for a promotion, and Albert LeBlanc, the ruthless but just as cunning Ministre de Sécurité who will do anything to ‘restore order’ to the City. From there, the pace slows down as we are transported across the Channel to attend Sophia’s engagement party to Renée Hasard, whom she has to marry in order to save her family from financial ruin. As you might’ve guessed, Sophia isn’t exactly thrilled to be marrying a Parisian stranger, especially when she realises that he is closely related to LeBlanc, which puts her in a very precarious situation. However, Renée surprises her later when it’s revealed that he, too, leads a double life and their relationship just takes off from there. It’s tumultuous, clashing, completely unexpected, but it fits them both and had me swooning often enough. They’re absolutely made for each other and I was rooting for them from the very beginning. Sure there’s a hint of a love triangle but Sophia herself is very clear on who she wants from the very beginning so it’s really just a competition between the two men, and not even that.
I always appreciate having a villain who has a legitimate reason to be evil, but every once in a while it’s nice to have a villain who’s evil just for the sake of it, and Rook provided just that with Premier Allemande. While LeBlanc is guided by his own self-made religion based on Fate, Allemande is indifferent to spiritual matters, using only his hatred of technology and those who can fund it, to explain his actions. The fact that he’s only hinted at during most of the book and never actually present, makes his impact far greater when he finally does appear.
At this point I’d like to talk about the way Rook was written. The writing was one of the deciding factors that put this book in the best books I’ve read this year, because there are so many layers to it. First there’s the way it’s written: it’s dense and repetitive but not in a way that drags the reader back; it’s not plagued by info dumps and information about the world is neatly woven into conversations or simple observations. I’ll admit, it wasn’t easy to get through the book because I had to actually concentrate on just reading instead of multitasking (believe me, I tried). However it got easier when I started noticing the little tricks Cameron used like tying a specific adjective to a specific character which reminded me a bit of epic poetry where the poet used the same techniques. Then there’s how the foreign characters are written; as someone who speaks French, I could easily identify a French structure behind the English words which is a great way to portray an accent without relying on a phonetic description (I’m looking at you J.K.). Finally, there’s the names themselves; now I don’t usually research the meanings behind a character’s name (unless I’m running out of things to say in a uni assignment) but René’s surname, Hasard, immediately caught my eye because it means ‘random’ in French, which absolutely fits the persona he shows to the world. On the other hand, ‘Hammond’ can mean both ‘high protection’ and ‘home’ (depending on where you look) which fits this character’s image since he’s as familiar to Sophia as her home and he often goes to great lengths to protect her. As for Sophia and Tom, their surname means ‘beautiful/fair friend’ which is exactly what both are to Spear. Basically, Cameron chose to name her characters in ways that reflect their relationship with each other and the world around them, which made me very happy because I’m a nerd.
(Are you tired of my gushing over the writing? Because I’m not done yet, sorry)
Now, when I was studying The Scarlet Letter back in spring, I learned to identify the different levels that can coexist in a story. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect to be able to identify them when I picked up Rook, in fact I would’ve been absolutely clueless if Sophia hadn’t clearly stated her own ‘acknowledged’ vs. ‘unacknowledged’ plan. It’s precisely because she talks about the two again and again that made me wonder if I could find parallels with other characters, when their own POV comes up. As a reader, I found it fascinating to connect the threads and attempt to weave the bigger picture. Cameron is a true master mind and she lays out a game of chess where each character has their own place in a bigger narrative.
All in all, I loved Rook both for its story and, more particularly, the writing and I recommend it to anyone who wants to read about an 18th century setting some time after 2824. It’s an interesting way to state that history is bound to repeat itself and it also allowed me to consider the potential fate of our current society, if the earth was ravaged by solar flares. I really wish there were going to be a second book because I’d love to see where Cameron takes the story, and she does leave the ending somewhat open to that, but even without a sequel, this book was great.
I’d seen The Wrath and the Dawn floating around ever since it came out, but I was never particularly interested in reading it until I fell on my first negative review of it and I decided it was high time to find out if this book lived up to the hype.
It didn’t.
(Well not entirely)
You see, this book could’ve been amazing, I readily admit that, but there were aspects to it that overshadowed all the good parts of the story.
The good:
- The world-building was excellent. Unlike a lot of fantasy books, there was no exposition scene, or a revelation through a character telling a story or something like that, instead readers are thrust into a vaguely Arabian setting where the fine details are slowly revealed through small actions all throughout the book. While this might seem off-putting, it allows each reader to build up a world entirely their own, since there are barely any specifics. Much like the story itself, the world is a mystery to be discovered.
- Ahdieh did a wonderful job at describing Shazi’s perception of time over the course of the book. At first, like her, we are aware of every single second, but as she settles into a routine, it also becomes a routine for the reader with days flying by. Personally I was delighted by how well this was done, given the fact that time is one of the novel’s central themes.
- Expanding on that, the writing was spectacular—description wise. It was vivid, nothing bored me, and it immediately sucked me into the story; one of the things everyone else gushes over is the descriptions of the food, and I have to agree with them, I loved the way they were done (I was reading one of them while in class before lunch and, let me tell you, it did me no favours).
- The relationships between characters were something I really enjoyed. Shazi and Khalid aside (I’ll get to them further on), I loved the intricate web of relationships Ahdieh built between seemingly unconnected character, but also how those relationships developed during the course of the book. Despina’s relationship with Shazi was one that had me incredibly interested because Shazi recently lost her best friend which impacted the way she interacted with Despina and how close she was prepared to become with her. The fact that they formed a significant friendship, despite the external factors that might’ve prevented this in other cases, is heart-warming and I look forward to seeing more of it in the sequel.
- The image Shazi gave of herself was incredibly entertaining and one of my favourite things about her. I loved her sharp tongue, quick wittiness, and the way she manipulated pretty much everyone to get what she wanted. While the contrasts between what she actually felt and what she projected was incredibly well done, adding even more layers to her character.
- While there are quite a few aspects to the romance that I didn’t like, even I have to admit that some of Khalid’s words made me weak:
‘What are you doing to me, you plague of a girl?’ he whispered
‘If I’m a plague, then you should keep your distance unless you plan on being destroyed.’ The weapons still in her grasp, she shoved against his chest.
‘No.’ His hand dropped to her waist. ‘Destroy me.’
The bow and arrow clattered to the ground as he brought his mouth to hers.
(damn if that doesn’t make me melt a little)
-Ahdieh’s character in general are incredibly well constructed (with one exception) without fitting a single mould; each is unique with their own qualities and flaws while their true motivations are only hinted at, where most are concerned, which adds an extra element of mystery.
The bad:
- The insta-love. I’ve never had an issue with insta-love, personally, but this book took it a little too far. The only reason Shazi marries Khalid is to avenge her best friend, Shiva, by killing him but she starts having doubts the second day of their marriage. Beyond having spent the night together where she narrates her first story, they hadn’t really learned much about each other at that point so it seems implausible that she would have a change of heart this early on. I mean I understand that each day is supposed to feel like a life time at first, but this makes Shiva’s death feel like it only existed to further the plot, which is something I take issue with (what with being quite attached to my best friend and all).
- Khalid’s behaviour is all over the place. I don’t know if this is intentional or not, given the way he grew up and all, but one minute he’s all dark and broody and then he cracks a joke before going back to the dark and broody persona. I’m all for the ‘character A is a hardass to everyone until he meets character B who makes him melt’ trope but the way it was executed here was mildly irritating. Instead of appearing tall, dark, and handsome, Khalid came off as a melodramatic 13-year-old who believed the entire world was against him, which didn’t do many favours for his character.
- Tariq’s entire character pissed me off to no end. He’s so incredibly childish about the way he reacts to Shazi’s plan, and I feel like he should have trusted her—at least in the beginning. Honestly, I’d rather he had been a separate antagonist who saw Khalid’s weakness in Shazi, and decided to use her, rather than add this unnecessary love triangle, where it’s clear from the very start who Shazi will end up with.
- The entire reason for Khalid’s behaviour was revealed in the prologue?? I think the book would’ve been so much better if the reader learned about it at the same time as Shazi. If you haven’t read this book, do yourself a favour and skip the prologue entirely, I promise you, it’ll make for a greater reading experience.
I still can’t decide how, exactly, I feel about this book. While I liked reading it well enough, the use of Shiva’s death as a way to simply further the plot left a bad taste in my mouth from the very beginning and I would’ve preferred it if the romance had developed much slower, showing Shazi’s growing conflicting feelings over Khalid—which would’ve been mirrored in the reader. The early reveal, no doubts in hopes of getting the readers on Khalid’s start from the very beginning, robbed the story from achieving a higher potential. On the other hand, there are elements about it that I simply loved and couldn’t get enough off, ones that I really hope are present in the sequel (which I will obviously be picking up because I have so many questions after that ending).