overall story: ⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2
performance: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

ratings for each arc & side story
➡️ season of mists ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
➡️ a game of you ⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2
➡️ thermidor ⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2
➡️ augustus ⭐️⭐️⭐️
➡️ three septembers and a january ⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2
➡️ convergence (the hunt, parliament of rooks, soft places) ⭐️⭐️ 1/2
➡️ ramadan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

the biggest hurdle with act II is realizing morpheus, his endless siblings, and hell itself become significantly less of a major focus after season of mists. a game of you is just as well executed and adapted as season of mists, although it is initially hard to be invested in barbie as the lead if you aren’t expecting it. for me, barbie and wanda’s friendship was the highlight of AGOY which was written with a lot of love and care.

be forewarned your mileage will vary on the side stories in act II more often than in act I. I struggled reading half of them, but pushed through hoping these will make more sense once I complete reading the series. if you’re struggling to find any interest in these, I would definitely suggest giving three septembers and a january and thermidor more attention,

which includes a full orchestral version of orpheus' lament that is incredibly gorgeous.

*sandman series reader notes: if you're listening to the audiobooks while following along with a hard copy, note that act II specifically covers season of mists, a game of you, and most of fables & reflections but NOT song of orpheus and winter’s edge.

sadly, I can’t recommend this novel not just because of the violent content and intensely graphic scenes, but because it feels obviously half-baked. if the world-building were better executed and planned out I could have at least praised that, but I feel some regret for reading this.

characterization & narration
heavy usage of pronouns are used to refer to the protagonist instead of “Marcos”. it was hard to keep track of which characters were doing or saying different things, especially when they identified as male or weren’t given unique names. I’m still wondering if this was a tool used by the author to intentionally dehumanize Marcos or if it was a byproduct of translation.

I was left wanting more from all the side characters and exploring their relationships with Marcos. it felt odd that Marcos and Cecilia’s entire relationship and parenthood journey is given what feels like a montage reel in a single chapter in part I. Marcos is just ok as a morally gray character, and serves well enough as a protagonist who grew up already working in an unforgiving industry. however, I was surprised that he wasn't shown having a more active role at the processing plant, like a stunner or assembly line butcher, and felt like an opportunity was missed while reading about him as a higher-up executive instead.

the quality of dialogue and nuance deteriorated as the plot advanced. the author literally skips over what could have been added characterization of Cecilia by writing: 

I would have loved to have delved into Cecilia’s mind, even for just a couple sentences, in those last moments of the book but it barely goes deeper than surface level. Marisa felt under-developed too—it’s obvious she was a representation of the “sheeple” who have blind trust in their government and institutions, but that’s all the author cares to write about with her.

I do want to point out that the narration by Joseph Balderrama was enjoyable and elevated the writing. his voice work for the side characters aren’t overdone or distracting. I like how smoothly the production was edited and it definitely heightens characterization and tension, which I would find lacking without the accompanying audiobook.

plot & themes
the premise falls apart for not being thorough and left me wondering why this society has never solely relied on alternative food sources. it also raises questions about where human and animal rights groups ended up after the transition. were they all steamrolled by the government too? it comes across as if the author was really proud of writing vivid, brutal scenes of assault, animal abuse, and other depraved acts, then wrote in an underdeveloped premise to prop up these scenes.

the way exposition was written becomes heavy handed and oversimplified in part II. part II is less shy in villainizing the government, but doesn’t actually interrogate the end goal of the entire system. essentially, it just points and says “look how bad it’s all gotten! isn’t butchering and eating people so awful?” part I did a much better job of world-building than the second, where every aspect of the special meat industry that is depicted begins to feel gratuitous or stale.

my biggest gripe is with how the ending is handled. Marcos’ decisions to ask Cecilia for help and immediately eliminate Jasmine after labor is purely written for shock value. rather than dissecting how keeping a specimen might further damage his and Cecilia’s relationship, or parsing out Cecilia’s thoughts on raising a half-specimen child in an epilogue chapter, the story stops dead in its tracks. it’s implied that Cecilia would still be glad to raise the newborn with Marcos, even after calling him “crazy”, “sick”, and even though she realizes the potential consequences of him impregnating a specimen. so when I read the following line: “As though his words were magical, she [Cecilia] begins to move and tells him to start boiling water, to bring clean towels...” largely motivated me to drop my rating.

writing
this was my first introduction to SGJ’s work and the horror genre. in my opinion, this is one of those stories that may actually benefit from a miniseries adaptation or being heard as an audiobook mainly because sometimes the tone seemed to “wander” and didn’t leave enough detail to fuel my imagination. I didn’t mind the lack of descriptive writing of the characters, but I had trouble settling into SGJ’s voice since at some points he writes quite plainly and at others it’s breezy and very stream of consciousness. my biggest complaint with this is that I found it hard to envision exactly how some key scenes and actions were staged which led me to multiple paragraph rereadings, but I can appreciate the uniqueness of his style.

there were multiple POV shifts too that required adjusting to, but made me feel just as on-my-toes as the characters were, which worked for me. I thought the writing shined best whenever the Elk Head Woman’s voice came through in the middle of scenes otherwise focused on the protagonists and when we spent time with Lewis and the sweat lodge. I *loved* how tense and how much tighter the writing became just before a character was offed as well.

characterization
simply because of how much time is spent inside each character’s head, my favorite character (and demise) has to be Lewis. it’s interesting how little time we spend with Ricky, Gabe, and Cass to find less about their thoughts on the Thanksgiving Classic and dive into Lewis’ psyche and follow his unraveling from paranoia into total madness. it’s painfully clear that Lewis felt the most deeply about the events of that day, so after reading everything onwards I was left wanting to know more about the other 3 men's experiences grappling with those same or potentially dissimilar feelings.

I’m not an avid basketball fan, but I didn’t mind the focus on the sport and how it shaped Denorah’s identity and how she sees herself of two different worlds. according to what I’ve read from ownvoices reviewers and readers, basketball is a sport that carries its own cultural significance in native communities, so having an emphasis on game lingo and making it a centerpiece in the last act wasn’t as distracting for me. it’s just unfortunate that the story wasn’t long enough to allow for Denorah to be introduced sooner, because it did feel like Denorah’s arc and resolution as a “final girl” was a bit rushed. if we had gotten a more detailed chapter from her perspective of hearing her father recount that fateful day, I feel her arc would have felt more effective.

plot & themes
I’ve seen better execution of vengeful haunting spirit stories in movies/TV, but TOGI as a novel is far from the worst to do it. despite the finale being mostly predictable by genre standards, I have to applaud the author for just how dense it is with sharp commentary that touches on native identities that live on and/or off reservation, interracial couple dynamics, intergenerational guilt, and nature itself all in under 400 pages. I *love* that rather than having a character deliver a mini history lesson to the reader via internal monologuing these sentiments are naturally reflected in how all the characters talk and behave with one another. and despite the gore and disturbing imagery, it’s not all serious either as there are some humorous exchanges and a sense of brotherhood that add a bit of lightness to what is a really grisly tale.

this is one of the most effective sequels I’ve read and does an amazing job of expanding on the ideas introduced in TBP. like many have said before, the first 200 pages are an uphill battle to get through which is a shame because if TDF were ~400 pages it would have been the easiest 5 stars I’ve ever given. but the payoff we experience after the wallfacer project is established and they wake from hibernation? equally satisfying, chilling, and action-packed! my only nitpick: I haven’t read much hard sci-fi, but it seems to me that despite being a genre bursting with progressive ideas and characters even brilliant trilogies like this continue to suffer from underwritten, one-dimensional female characters. nevertheless, I will never think about the Fermi paradox and space exploration in the same way ever again.