Review: A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas
A flawed, yet intriguing start to a series.
“Pity those who don’t feel anything at all.”
Full disclosure: I’ve been neglecting writing any new book reviews because I went back to working at Barnes and Noble last month. I had heard of this book—published in 2015—before, but I remember seeing it around and not being that interested. That being said, you can’t work for very long in a bookstore without having at least one customer (or five) come in looking for this series—or any Sarah J. Maas book. So down the rabbit hole I went.
While I was pulled into the story fairly quickly—I love any retellings of fairytales, and this one is very loosely based on Beauty and the Beast—I can definitely see why this book was mismarketed as Young Adult fantasy. The beginning of the story reads like any stereotypical novel from that genre: one lackluster protagonist, one devastatingly handsome, yet inscrutable hero, and a world of magic and danger and allure like our homely heroine has never seen before. Schenanigans ensue.
The book is set on the island of Prythian, which is split into two worlds: the mortal realm, and the world of the faeries. In turn, the faery lands are split into seven courts: Night, Day, Dawn, Winter, Summer, Autumn, and Spring. This is the result of a war centuries ago between faeries and humans. Now, faeries have become merely legends to the humans, and it has been years since any has been seen beyond the wall that divides them. Feyre, her father, and her sisters live in a tiny cottage near the wall, where they live in poverty and near starvation. Because of this, Feyre hunts in the woods outside their village in order to feed her family.
To start, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Feyre. She starts off as an amalgamation of Katniss Everdeen and Bella Swan. Not a great mix. But as the story progressed, she started to grow on me. She is a deeply flawed character who has led an incredibly bleak life, which turned her into someone fiercely prejudiced and insecure. Her time at the Spring Court gives her the opportunity to focus on something other than the survival of her family. Her character arc is one of the highlights of the story. There is a scene where—without giving too much away—she comforts a dying a stranger found on the outskirts of Tamlin’s lands. He asks her why she would comfort a faerie, since she was so vocal about her hatred of his kind.
“Because I wouldn’t want to die alone,” I said, and my voice wobbled as I looked at Tamlin again, forcing myself to meet his stare. “Because I’d want someone to hold my hand until the end, and awhile after that. That’s something everyone deserves, human or faerie.”
I love that quote. As soon as I read it, I was firmly on Team Feyre. It gives such a great snapshot into her character; yes, she is a badass lady who can shoot arrows blah blah blah, but it is her kindness and her empathy that truly make her a strong, female character.
Since this is the start of a series, one can assume that Feyre and Tamlin do not simply get their happily-ever-after at the end of this book. It’s clear from the start that Rhys is also meant to be a love interest for Feyre. But because of the obvious chemistry and tension between Rhys and Feyre, the initial love story is kind of ruined.
As soon as Rhys shows up, the reader can see that Tamlin is not the best match for Feyre. He is way too protective of her. Granted, she is a human surrounded by incredibly powerful magical creatures, but Feyre has demonstrated time and time again that it is wrong to underestimate her. Yet Tamlin continually seeks to keep her in the dark about the dangers facing the Spring Court, and the rest of the world. That to me doesn’t seem like the actions of someone who views their prospective partner as an equal, and as a result, I found myself less invested in their love story.
In stark contrast, Rhys views Feyre as a capable woman rather than a precious jewel to keep locked away. In the last third of the book, it is Rhys who challenges Feyre and offers her help with the horrific tasks she must complete. He does not try and shield her from the truth—if anything, he is too honest with her—because he trusts her to succeed. If that isn’t sexy, I don’t know what is.
However, despite the problems I had with the book, I still found it a gripping read. The world that Maas builds is enchanting, albeit ruthless and dark. It was thoroughly entertaining, and it was that reason that made me buy the second book of the series, A Court of Mist and Fury. Because, while I may not have enjoyed everything in this book, I am curious about the journey that lies ahead.