Prince of Thorns was fast-paced and exciting. King of Thorns expanded the setting. It introduced the hidden players pulling the strings behind the scenes, expounding on the magic system, and providing insight into the events that destroyed 21st Century civilization.
Emperor of Thorns finally brought the entire saga to a head by throwing Jorg into an impossible conflict with the undead. The series was brutal and everyone was highly unlikable. Yet I could not get enough of the trilogy, because the individual stories were so clever, unpredictable, and fun.
So, what happened? I was so excited to read The Red Queen’s War series because it was set in the same universe as the Broken Empire.
This time, Prince Jalan took center stage. The spoiled, cowardly son of a merciless monarch, Jalan was supposed to spend Prince of Fools, his first adventure, traveling the land, finding his courage, and facing a mysterious foe known as the Silent Sister.
The novel had everything I could possibly want in a Mark Lawrence story. But it could not hold my interest. So, I abandoned it for Red Sister, the first novel in the Book of the Ancestors series.
The story was concerned with the exploits of Nona Grey, a fiery girl that had to find her bearings in a convent designed to turn girls like her into assassins. I could not have asked for a better plot. I was yet to encounter killer nuns in fantasy fiction. Nona was feisty, murderous and sad.
But again, the novel completely failed to hold my interest and I could not figure out why at first. But now I think I get it. The Broken Empire gave me such a concentrated dose of Mark Lawrence’s style that I feel like I know what to expect from him, and that makes the rest of his work less enticing.
Look at it this way; imagine drinking so many bottles of Coca-Cola that you lose the taste for it. The drink is not necessarily bad. You just don’t care for it, because you know what to expect. The fizzy sensation at the back of your throat does not induce the same pleasurable sensation you remember.
Red Sister felt fresh, because it was essentially Harry Potter but with assassin nuns rather than wizards at a school. The notion of exploring every stage of young Nona’s training was honestly intriguing. And once the classes began in earnest, my curiosity was piqued.
I enjoyed watching Nona as she bumbled her way through her new social landscape. But Lawrence’s overall style, the dank atmosphere of the world he had constructed, the tragedy of his characters, none of it could keep me engaged.
I won’t say I have outgrown the author’s style. It would be more accurate to say that I have experienced Lawrence’s greatness and had my fill. Not a bad thing.
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