Harrow the Ninth
Harrow the Ninth Book Review by Tamsyn Muir
This book is a pretentious trash fire.
...in my opinion, of course.
One of my favorite things to do when I finish a book is to look at reviews on Goodreads. Usually, I try to formulate and write down my own thoughts first, as I don’t want to be influenced by others’ thoughts and opinions, but I couldn’t help myself this time.
As I envisaged, the reviews were mostly positive with sporadic one or two star ratings. Unfortunately, my review will emulate those fellow abysmal ones. Trust me when I say that no one is more disappointed than myself and my best friend.
As I buddy-read Gideon the Ninth with her, so too did we also accompany each other while reading Harrow the Ninth. However, because of things like life and jobs, she was well ahead of me and warned me quite succinctly that I was going to hate this novel.
And she was right.
Now, I can still appreciate Muir’s writing skills, her creativity, her myriad vocabulary, and the sheer guts this novel probably took. Muir is a fantastic writer. She’s obviously skilled, highly detailed, and unimaginably creative. Her vocabulary is insane. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book with so many unfamiliar words in my life. And just like the first book, Muir continues to advance her world-building, the magical universe of necromancy, her character base, and the conflicts.
All of this being said, the book was still atrocious.
You might be wondering how I could spout all these lovely compliments at Muir and then turn around and stab her book through the cover. It’s quite simple really. The book was absurdly confusing.
Not confusing in a hahah, what a cool mystery! kind-of-way, but in a what the hell is going on for 2/3rds of the book kind-of-way. This feeling as a reader is dreadful.
Now, I like mystery as much as the next person. I don’t like to be spoon-fed every morsel of information from an author that doesn’t think I can comprehend a little ambiguity, but this novel in particular takes this idea and chucks it off a cliff.
Things are so ridiculously intentionally confusing from the get-go, a feeling I thought would go away once we got 15 pages in. Then 30. Then 75. Then 100. This book makes no goddamn sense until, no joke, maybe the last 100 pages.
Now. The last 100 pages were phenomenally entertaining and especially titillating when we actually started getting answers, but for me, wading through 300 pages of absolute nonsense, over-the-top language, and purposefully perplexing scenes in which the readers are given no kind of payoff or even the chance to understand was not worth it to me.
We see no hair nor hide of Gideon Nav until the end, we don’t even really get the real Harrowhark until too late in the narrative, the plot doesn’t make sense until near the finish line, and the payoff just isn’t worth it.
I also especially loathed the second-person-point-of-view. I always wondered why more books weren’t written in the 2nd POV and now I know why. It’s the absolute worst. Even after the twist at the end in which the POV genuinely has an explanation, it didn’t make the fact that I had to read 300 plus pages from that viewpoint any better.
I really wanted to like this book, I really, really did.
And for the most part, it seems like Muir’s risks paid off as most people praise it highly and enjoy the jumbled mess that is the narrative, including my friend. I get that. I acknowledge that. I also acknowledge that this book isn’t for me.
I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t get to see the characters that I had grown attached to. I didn’t understand the burgeoning whatever was happening between Ianthe and Harrowhark, disliked the idea that Harrowhark was incapable of loving anybody except “The Body”, and I abhorred the feeling of being in the dark for so long. I grew bored, irritated, and uninterested, a feeling that lingered even when I started to see the light of the end of the novel.
The only pinprick of hope for me was God. I found him almost sickeningly enjoyable. I have no idea why. I’ve always been a huge sucker for the all powerful character with immense stature that seems banal and ordinary on the outside. I mean his name is John for god sake, John when we have other characters called Harrowhark and Mercymorn. I found him unironically enjoyable.
Other than that, however, this book was quite an unfavorable experience for me.
Now, the question begs: will I be reading Alecto the Ninth?
Honestly...I’m not sure. I’m still strewing over the train-wreck that I found this sequel to be and the thought of the third novel makes me want to cry. Unless it’s more reminiscent of the first novel. If that’s the case, I’d be more than happy to read it.
I suppose I’ll have to wait for it to come out, read the reviews, and then ultimately decide if the next installment of The Locked Tomb will belovedly return me to the universe of Dominicus or end it for me permanently.
Recommendation: Read Gideon the Ninth, then read my review, and then peruse many more before deciding to pick up the sequel. Maybe read an Amazon sample before purchasing. I highly recommend you taste a sampler of this story before deciding to purchase it yourself.
Or, better yet, check it out from your local library and save yourself the cash and the potential heartbreak. If it ends up being your next love, you can purchase it after-the-fact and not before like me.
Score: 4/10
