By Quentin Monasterial
Courier Staff Reporter/Columnist
Hearing news of Leigh Bardugo’s new book hardly caught a hairsbreadth of my attention, let alone any desire to actually purchase it.
I’d already suffered through her previous work, The Grisha Trilogy, so, I remember thinking, why would this be any different? Turns out I was wrong. (And as to why I purchased it despite my hostility towards doing so–well, the hype claimed it was a dramatic improvement, and, knowing me, I couldn’t resist.)
Bardugo makes an outstanding comeback with her latest novel Six of Crows. Compared to her Grisha Trilogy, which I wasn’t a very big fan of (to put it lightly, I disliked them a great deal), Six of Crows is the gourmet dish and the Grisha Trilogy a take-out-night gone wrong. But Six of Crows isn’t just a gourmet dish; it is the first course to what I hope is a multi-course meal.
Six of Crows is a spin-off to the Grisha Trilogy, meaning it still takes place in the “Grisha Universe.” Fortunately the one thing that I thoroughly enjoyed–in fact, outrightly adored-about the Grisha Trilogy was the setting. It was an exceptional example of what high fantasy world-building should look like. The concept of Small Science–the special abilities that individuals called Grisha were gifted with upon birth–and how it works was brilliant, in my opinion. Additionally, there existed a spectrum of attitudes toward these individuals based on the cultural environment, which, I believe, provided the fictional society with more depth and authenticity, highlighting the struggles of a minority group in the face of society (regardless of the condition that makes the minority a minority).
The novel features six unorthodox individuals who, despite their polar-like differences, unite in pursuit of a common goal, but these individuals aren’t like your usual protagonists. They each have a past as dark as ink and filled with secrets just as mortifying; many of them are criminals, which is why they live in Ketterdam, a city where crime is as fundamental to its infrastructure as the ground is to a building.
There is so much more to them than meets the eye. In fact, there was so much depth behind them, I grew attached to each and every one of them. I connected to each of them in a different way. I felt myself growing close to them, as if they were real people, and I was apart of their mission.
Along the way, they forge an alliance much deeper than what had initially brought them together. They start out as untrusting of one another, and resentment trailed the group wherever they went (in some areas, this trail persisted throughout the entire novel). Eventually, bonds formed–both platonic and romantic ones. And I’m not talking about the cliched, dreaded insta-love that dominated Young Adult literature. I’m talking about the one that builds slowly (so that it doesn’t overshadow the plot of the story), surreptitiously seeping into the cracks of your heart, until, finally, when you least expect it, takes ahold and squeezes lightly and teasingly throughout the story.
Action is plentiful and wonderfully choreographed in this story, and the plot always has you gripping your seat in anticipation and need for more.
Bardugo’s writing ability was evident in her Grisha Trilogy. I don’t know if it’s due to my bias or not, but her writing seems to have taken on a whole new level in this novel as she exemplifies the intricacy she put into each character, giving each of them a clear, distinct voice even though it was written in
multiple perspectives–a task that is very rarely executed properly.
Furthermore, Bardugo does something that I rarely see in any literary genre; she features a diverse range of main characters. By diverse, I mean the main characters (notice how I highlight “main characters,” indicating that simply featuring minority as a side character isn’t accurate representation of diversity; these same minorities are just as capable of leading the story) are composed of more than just your average conventionally attractive, cis, straight, white male/female. People of color and the LGBTQIA+ community are represented here, which is something I consider essential to stories, especially those that are geared towards younger audiences.
Overall, Leigh Bardugo does a mind-blowingly fantastic job, and I can’t wait for her sequel. I also am hoping that the story doesn’t end there, because that’d be quite an injustice.
