The Most Overrated

I've been dreading this topic for one big reason: I've always believed that liking or disliking a book comes down to personal taste. I enjoy plenty of things that would make most people shake their heads. I really don't want to yuck anyone's yum — which is exactly why it pains me to say this: ACOTAR did not live up to the hype my sisters swore by.

Maybe some of this is payback. I made my sisters read Manacled by Senlinyu for what felt like half a year of nonstop begging on my part. That fic is long enough it should come with its own bibliography — and when they still wouldn't budge, I caved: if they survived that beast of a book, I'd finally tackle A Court of Thorns and Roses. (I regret that bet to this day. I'm on book four via audio and still dragging my feet through it.) Yes, yes — regerts were made. (I know it's misspelled. I'm talking about the meme. Just go with it.)

So let's start with a few pointers. Something has to catch my eye and make me feel something within the first few pages, or the first five chapters. (I think that's generous of me, no?)

It starts with the introduction of our main character — Feyre — an able-bodied woman and, it seems, the only working member of her family: the one actually putting food on the table at the start of the book. She's like Katniss, only slightly less hateful and more judgmental — a mean girl whose inner monologue talks down about her sisters. But then you meet the sisters. Fair point, Katniss Feyre. Her judgment is justified.

Nesta is sharp, snarky, and just a bitch to Feyre — the kind of person who freezes out everyone around her, including the sister keeping her alive. Elain is gentle in a story that doesn't know what to do with gentle. Seriously, the world around them is harsh enough that you start wondering how Elain hasn't died yet — ah, right, Nesta's the one keeping her alive. What does Elain actually do? Four books in, and I still think she's useless. That's besides the point. Ahem. Moving on.

Did I mention Feyre is in her late teens or early twenties? Because yeah, it bugs me that no fantasy hero is ever coming of age in their early-to-mid-forties, like me. But then I remember I can barely get out of bed some mornings because of my knees, and I have to admit defeat — if this were a hero's world at my age, the whole thing would be doomed from the start. Who's fighting off faeries with bad knees? Fine. They get their point back.

Everything kicks off with Feyre shooting a wolf, or wolf-like creature, in the woods to keep her starving family fed — though it's actually Andras, a Spring Court sentry Tamlin shapeshifted and sent across the wall, hoping someone would kill him and break the curse in the process. Feyre just wanted dinner. Instead, she triggered a centuries-old treaty, and by the next night, a beast is at her door to collect. Her punishment? Cross into the fae lands — where, ironically, she'll finally get to eat.

Okay, okay — he drags her back to pay off the debt for taking one of his own. But I have to digress here: he sent Andras over in the first place. He turned his own sentry into cannon fodder, so demanding payment for a death he engineered feels a little rich to me. Anyway — moving on.

Tamlin takes her to the Spring Court, which practically bursts with life compared to the winter she's leaving behind — a winter that was, by her own account, harsher and closer to starving her out than any she'd survived before. So: bonus for her? No death? Yay?

It's beautiful where she is. Tamlin is nice eye candy, which instantly sets off a warning bell for me, because no one is that pretty without being some kind of walking red flag. He's cursed. Mysterious. Tragic. Masked. Everything that, going by every other fantasy book I've read, should have had me swooning. It didn't. He decides things for her without asking — the exact move of someone who likes control. From there, it "picks up."

Kind of. Things happen. I did enjoy the bits with the Suriel — an oracle-like creature Feyre traps in the woods and cons into answering questions about the blight on Prythian. Eventually she goes Under the Mountain to save her kidnapper — sorry, her Stockholm Syndrome lover (was he a lover at this point?)— from Amarantha, who caused the blight in the first place. That means three trials, all to save her "beloved" from the woman holding the leash.

It felt slow up until this point, and the pacing worked against it for me. Then it swings the other way completely — ramming everything at you so fast all you can do is gulp it down and hope for the best. We meet Rhysand, who I'd pegged as important well before the official reveal — I'd already clocked exactly how the trials were going to go. But the detail that actually got me was the illiteracy: Lucien, one of the more likable characters, is frantic because his life is literally in the hands of a girl who can't read.

The trials happen. She wins — technically — and still has to answer the riddle, but Amarantha's a sore loser, so she kills Feyre anyway. Cue the power of love — or, more accurately, every High Lord in Prythian handing over a piece of themselves to bring her back, because she saved them, so she should get to live too. Right?

To me, the pacing was the real issue. Maybe it's because I wasn't invested enough in these characters — the backstory of the Spring Court didn't land for me, and I didn't care how long she stayed there. I didn't care why Tamlin was a prick, consistently throwing barbs at Feyre. I've seen narcissistic abuse up close my whole life, so watching it play out on the page was, honestly, a little triggering.

The men were another issue. One constantly wanted to "keep her safe," which really meant "keep her contained." The other was a straight-up cradle robber, given how old he is compared to a teenager. Lucien was comic relief half the time, and I honestly can't tell if that was intentional.

The book just didn't spark much for me. Maybe I've been spoiled — I came up on genuinely great fantasy, The Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop, Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey — and ACOTAR just doesn't hit the same bar. So — did it live up to the hype? No. Do I understand why my sisters are obsessed with it anyway? Also no, but I've accepted that's not really the question I'm supposed to be answering. I made a bet. I'm keeping it. I've still got books left to go. Regerts, as established, were made. I'll report back — maybe, or I might just cry once I'm finally done.