“According to legend, Father Earth did not originally hate life.
In fact, as the lorists tell it, once upon a time Earth did everything he could to facilitate the strange emergence of life on his surface. He crafted even, predictable seasons; kept changes of wind and wave and temperature slow enough that every living being could adapt, evolve; summoned waters that purified themselves, skies that always cleared after a storm. He id not create life – that was happenstance – but he was pleased and fascinated by it, and proud to nurture such strange wild beauty upon his surface.
Then people began to do horrible things to Father Earth. They poisoned waters beyond even his ability to cleanse, and killed much of the other life that lived on his surface. They drilled through the crust of his skin, past the blood of his mantle to get at the sweet marrow of his bones. And at the height of human hubris and might, it was the orogenes who did something that even Earth could not forgive: They destroyed his only child.”
If you fell in love with Sabaa Tahir’s An Ember in the Ashes earlier this year and are looking to bridge the gap between now and the glorious day when the sequel is released, then Ink and Bone is an excellent choice for you. It’s got the same feel to it, the same Middle Eastern desert-y type world, with some decent characters, a very bad baddie and a fast-paced plot. You will not be bored with this one.
At the grand old age of 25, I fully realize I am no longer the target audience for Young Adult literature. Though I admit that I find it increasingly difficult to relate to a teenage protagonist, and high school drama really does just bore me to tears, I can’t seem to get enough of good old YA. And I can’t help but wonder; why, eh? (I apologize, that was inexcusable…)
I guess my affinity for YA lit has to do with the fact that it didn’t really exist when I was a young adult myself. Sure, there have undoubtedly been stories aimed at young adults since the beginning of time, all dealing with themes of growth, identity, angst and so forth. But it has only been in recent years that YA became n genre. When I was younger, the Harry Potters were bundled in with the Very Hungry Caterpillars, and it was tough to find literature to guide me through such a rough, hormonal period in my life. I think when I was sixteen I weaved back and forth between reading The Babysitter’s Club and my mum’s semi-trashy crime paperbacks; it was in interesting time for me.
But these days an increasing amount of publishing houses are developing their own YA imprints, libraries and book stores have dedicated YA sections, this genre is now a culturally accepted thing, and it is booming. I am so fond of this genre because I recognise its potential, I know what I would have gained from YA books if they were around when I was younger, but at the same time I see a responsibility to be upheld.
The feeling of getting this book on release day is comparable to Gollum’s elation of finally obtaining the One Ring before he falls to a painful, undoubtedly blistery, stingy and all together unpleasant death in the fires of Mount Doom. I don’t know why I’m illustrating it for you; the gif’s right here:
This was everything I wanted, and expected from Sarah J Maas, and even more. Despite some tropey flaws that kinda made me cringe just a tad, I was enthralled by A Court of Thorns and Roses. Obviously, as a massive Maas fan, I couldn’t help but compare it to her awesome Throne of Glass series. Verdict: completely different, but in some ways, better.