Crooked Kingdom

This book finally did what all 4 books before it failed to do.

It made it to my favorites list.

That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.

I started this with low expectations, to be honest. I had been let down by Six of Crows and didn't want to repeat my disappointment. And I think those low expectations saved me just a little bit. While I still had reservations in the first 100-or-so pages, by the midpoint, I was sufficiently hooked. Honestly, I feel like the real problem with this duology is that the first book is bogged down by thematic set up that only pays off in this book. The plot was better paced, held more show more tension and stakes. There were real ideas here to latch onto, and real character moments that didn't feel too contrived or that they were entirely for the aesthetic. I felt myself begin to truly care for the characters and their problems, especially those characters who hadn't managed to snag me in the first book, like Jesper, Wylan, and Matthias. And those who I already cared for only became more important to me, primarily Kaz and Inej.

In specifics, I loved Nina's new abilities and the utter horror of their reality (I'm trash for possessed dead people; weird, I know ¯_(ツ)_/¯ ). I loved Jesper's battle to accept his own faults and his own gifts, and how his father played a key role in the plot. I loved Wylan's similar journey, and I loved that they helped each other through their hardships. I loved Inej and her warrior's spirit. I loved Kaz and his open ending. I loved Matthias and his goofy, fish-out-of-water kindness and equally compelling struggles. I even loved Kuwei and his stupid little antics.

This book had me sobbing all the time. I was a mess. I stayed up to ungodly hours reading this and further ruined my already damaged circadian rhythm. I'm so glad I read it. Maybe, upon a re-read, I'll like the first one more because of this one.

Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don’t forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.

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Anyone who knows me well knows that even when I was going through my teens, I found YA novels annoying and have avoided the genre almost altogether. Instead, I'd either be reading children/tweens books or adult fiction. It's overall a mix of being tired of the same stories and stereotypes being retold in bland ways, the constant coming of age stories that, due to how I grew up, didn't leave me nostalgic or happy, but left a bad taste in my mouth, and the overall feeling that the books were dumbed down for readers in a way that was unappealing. I understood that there was a place for them, but that place was never on my bookshelf. If I wanted more teen orientated adventures or romance stories, I was more than happy with my manga show more collection instead.

When I stumbled across the first book Six of Crows, I was simply looking at my library's recommendations for me and I thought it looked interesting. However, they didn't mark it as YA on the site so I was a little put off when a beautiful hardcover book with "YA" slapped on the spine was handed to me by the librarian. I contemplated not taking it out as I had been let down by the genre too many times to count. But, I checked it out anyways. What greeted me was a flawed story, but a very good one with characters I really enjoyed and an ending that left me angry that I'd have to wait a year to get my proper conclusion.

And that year went by slowly, but it finally passed.

Crooked Kingdom is a fitting ending to Six of Crows. The pacing can be slow at times, but overall this was a very satisfying read. I felt every emotion that each character felt, I teared up as I saw my favorite characters in pain, I laughed at all the new one-liners that will be on my favorite quotes list, I was invested in nearly every moment, and I enjoyed a YA series for the first time in years. It made me feel alive to a degree.

I could gush about the book for hours (and already have to my boyfriend who is just as shocked as I am that I've loved a series as this so much), but I would risk spoiling everything. Please, if you enjoyed the first book, grab this one and get your ending.

My only main complaint is that the characters, to me, do not act their age. They feel so much older and I suppose you could say what they went through forced them to grow up faster, but I almost feel it is a cop-out excuse. They are their age because of the target demographic. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, it just throws me off some moments to have their ages retold to me and it has to register just how young these characters are.

Get the book.

No Mourners.
No Funerals. show less

Spoilers Ahead.


“Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste.”

When a novel has a quote like that in it, it’s impossible not to sit up and take notice.

I’ve long loved the idea of conman and thieves, roguish anti-heroes, and characters twisted by the darkness of their own goals. I’ve previously mentioned Jimmy the Hand and The Artful Dodger in relation to Kaz, and this second book took all of that and added a healthy dose of Locke Lamora and his Gentleman Bastards, just for a younger generation.

My qualms with character ages still stand, as said in my review of Six of Crows. I can’t help but still wish that they were older; in this world of magic and deception, the lingering show more knowledge that they’re all kids still sits wrong with me. It’s one thing to go on a daring quest like SoC, but in CK, they’re directly pitted against adult businessmen and lawmakers. While wisdom doesn’t necessarily come with age, it still paints a rather silly mental picture if you pause reading and really think about what some of these scenes would look like. No one reacts to the fact that they’re all very young, and everyone takes the word of a bunch of teenagers (most who are known criminals) over adults of high standing.

But now that I have that off my chest (again), let’s move on. Because, honestly, the praise I have for this book astounds even me.

As a small preface: I consume a lot of media, and I hang out in fandom circles for the things I love. The reason I’m saying this is because, despite that, I’m normally a very critical person, as well as a rational one. I’m not the sort of fan that cries about ‘XYZ character deserved a happy life!’ I didn’t (completely) hate GoT, and while I’m a Stucky shipper, the fan-bitching about Steve’s ending borders on the conspiracy-theory insane.

Life isn’t perfect. Shit happens. And its high time that the media we consume reflects that and stops prepping people for a (Disney created) fairy-tale ending that will never actually happen.

So when I say that I haven’t felt this satisfied with an ending of… anything, in a long while (not with a book series, or a TV show, or even a movie) that means a lot.

Again. Spoiler warning.

First and foremost, I LOVE the fact that Matthias died!!!

It is hard to kill a character as an author; you risk losing readers and popular opinion, and you risk alienating your fanbase completely. It is also hard to say goodbye to a beloved character as a reader. It’s a punch in the gut and an eye-opening shock that a lot of casual consumers don’t take to very well.

But damn, doesn’t it just remind you that you’re alive?!

Did his death upset me? Of course, it did. But it showed that not everything was perfect. No matter how smart Kaz was, and how well they all followed the plan Kaz laid out, it is impossible to control everything. It made the stakes real and I can’t say how much I appreciate that Bardugo didn’t cheapen the moment by bringing him back for good.

So was it unexpected? Honestly. No. Not for me. I felt like something was coming from the moment Nina started to understand her new powers. While it wasn’t a complete Chekhov's Gun, as the final pieces fell into place and Nina hadn’t used her death powers for anything, I started working out possibilities. However, that didn’t take away the punch of the moment. I still felt it, and, as said above, Nina’s reaction and responses were so on point that the pain hurt even more.

I even loved the moment that Nina resurrected him, and her eventual decision to let him go. The fact that she was desperate and distraught enough to try was so real and human that it cut deep. And then the fact that she knew it wasn’t right, and that it wasn’t the same, and that yes, Matthias should have been with her, but how wrong it would be for her to keep him, added a layer of character development and genuine human emotion that you just don’t see often.

The storyline as a whole is great and deliciously complex, but I’m not here to give you a play-by-play.

So my next point (and biggest takeaway of the novel) is this: no one is fully redeemed.

That’s the absolute strength of this book and is again, unfortunately, something that most writers stay (or their publishers push) away from. We’re so conditioned to believe that ‘Oh, they’ll come back to life’ and ‘of course they’ll get together in the end’ and ‘everything will be fine’ all because mainstream storytelling doesn’t often leave room for permanence in painful emotions. Everyone is chasing that happily ever after, even if you’re not reading a romance. That moment will come where good triumphs over evil, and when the bad boy shows his kind side, and other such rubbish.

All of Bardugo’s characters grow and change in delightful ways. But none of them were ever perfect, and none of them turn over a wholly new leaf by the end. Jesper and Wylan get the best shot (and I will go down with that ship!!!) but scars linger. Nina finds a new purpose in life, but at what costs?

And then there’s Kaz and Inej. Their final scene is character development genius. It’s also the sort of romance that I want to see more of.

Again, I reference my review of SoC when saying that Inej is one of the best female characters that I’ve ever come across. She is as strong as she is weak; she is complex, and she is earnest and clear in her wants. She speaks her mind and her heart but doesn’t get weighed down by typical female associated tropes. Her self-realization that she can help Kaz but she can’t fix him came as such a breath of fresh air that I almost choked.

We live in a world that still idolizes the concept that a woman wants to, and should, ‘fix the broken, distant man’ and that when she does, there will be an endless sea of love and affection. From bodice rippers to rom-coms and action movies where the woman is little more than a plot point, all we’re told is that the female is there to help and tame the male and bring a gentleness to life.

To have a female character acknowledge her love for someone yet understand that she can’t change them and know that staying and trying will drag her down and destroy her, takes what is a fundamentally a fun adventure book and elevates it to a point where I feel it should be required reading.

Any person (but especially men) writing female characters, should read these books and learn something.

The same applies to Kaz. He’s not redeemed. His not magically healed of his suffering and questionable ways. He didn’t proclaim himself a changed man or lie and say that he will. He wasn’t magically able to touch without flinching, and there was no contrite kiss set against a pretty sky.

They held hands for a moment, and it was one of the most genuinely real moments of romance that I’ve ever read.

And just when you feel that Inej is set right, and that she’s going to be a good person focused only on standing up for those who can’t, the last chapter happens. Allow me to put it articulately: OMFG!!!!!11!!!!

I’ve ranted for a while now, so I should wrap things up here. SoC received 4 stars from me based on the age gripe. While it will always bother me, I can’t give this instalment any less than the 5 full stars it deserves. I hope that there will be more in this series (maybe set 10 years in the future so I can stop whinging about kids) because, unlike Nina, I just don’t seem to know when to give up on something I love.

“Maybe there were people who lived those lives. Maybe this girl was one of them. But what about the rest of us? What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary. That was how you survived when you weren’t chosen, when there was no royal blood in your veins. When the world owed you nothing, you demanded something of it anyway.”

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Because the first season of the Netflix series includes the introduction of the Crows, Holly also recommended I read the Six of Crows duology. And so I did. I have to admit I liked Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom much for than I did The Grisha Trilogy. I like nothing better than bad good guys, and the Crows are that and more. Their personalities are more vibrant. Their morals are gray but not really. Their heist is a thing of beauty, and their ability to beat the odds is perfection. The sleight of hand scenes are almost as good as their banter, but it is their flaws that make them real and personable. I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the Crows in the future!

The kind of book for which the term "rollicking" was invented, full of heists and misdirections and double-crosses. I still don't really buy most of the main characters as teenagers, but I found this a definite step up from the first book in this duology in terms of Leigh Bardugo's sense of stakes and consequences. I really enjoyed Crooked Kingdom and I'll definitely read more from Bardugo in the future.

"Where do think the money went?" he repeated.

"Guns?" asked Jesper.

"Ships?" queried Inej.

"Bombs?" suggested Wylan.

"Political bribes?" offered Nina. They all looked at Matthias. "This is where you tell us how awful we are," she whispered.

He shrugged. "They all seem like practical choices."

Crooked Kingdom picks up just days after where Six of Crows leaves off. Kaz and the gang have just finished pulling off the heist of the century and now their backs are against the wall as they've been double (triple, quadruple?) crossed by just about everyone. One of the team has been kidnapped and the lure of jurda parem has drawn many enemies to the city. Old rivals and new will test the bounds of Kaz's scheming mind if he and his crew are to show more survive.

I admit I hadn't really warmed up to Kaz in the first installment but that's no longer an issue. All the character backgrounds we received in the first book are given even more depth and by half way through I was fully invested in each character. I love the the relationships Bardugo has created, both platonic and romantic. The characters bond and build true camaraderie, using the strengths of each to balance out flaws, turning them into one highly effective team.

The main story line is very twisty! Gone was the annoyance of the constant reminder of character ages. The action scenes are intense and almost cinematic. Kaz Brekker's scheming knows no bounds, which is a good thing considering how many setbacks the team encounters. I was kept on the edge of my seat wondering how everyone was going to pull through. The payoff is very satisfying. Very.

I laughed, I cried, sometimes both at the same time. This duology completely swept me away and I was more than happy to go along for the ride. I can definitely see a reread in the future. show less

This series is about how everything you do comes back to you one day: every action has an echo, every action casts a shadow. It's also about heists and capers and twists and turns. And it's about building relationships when you've never really seen one and aren't too sure what trust even is. In short, it's about a lot of things I am super into.

The characters sold me on Six of Crows, and they sold me on Crooked Kingdom, too. I'm a suspense wimp, and I might have wimped out of this if I hadn't cared so much. (As it was, I had to put the book down a couple of times and back away.) But the thing is -- the heists aren't even the point. The twists and turns, for me, were pretty much the scaffolding, the skeleton. The body of this book was the show more characters, choosing their actions, choosing their futures. They were starting from painful places, and I cared about them, and so I was filled with joy every time they took a tiny step forward.

What I'm saying is that this is a well-told tale. It really is. And I'm glad I read it (and glad I stuck it out through the tense bits and the "what, again?" moments). show less