Author: Leigh Bardugo Rating: 99.5% | A+ | ★★★★★ Warnings: + Violence Synopsis (from Goodreads): Nikolai Lantsov has always had a gift for the impossible. No one knows what he endured in his country’s bloody civil war—and he intends to keep it that way. Now, as enemies gather at his weakened borders, the young king must find a way to refill Ravka’s coffers, forge new alliances, and stop a rising threat to the once-great Grisha Army. Yet with every day a dark magic within him grows stronger, threatening to destroy all he has built. With the help of a young monk and a legendary Grisha Squaller, Nikolai will journey to the places in Ravka where the deepest magic survives to vanquish the terrible legacy inside him. He will risk everything to save his country and himself. But some secrets aren’t meant to stay buried—and some wounds aren’t meant to heal. Initial Thoughts King of Scars has the distinct honor of occupying my second top rated novel ever. There’s really very little I can say without spoiling any aspect of the novel, because everything is so intricate. Weighing in on the “should I read The Grisha Trilogy first” debate, I’d say that you probably don’t need to? There’s a lot of exposition in this novel, and it recaps roughly what happened in the trilogy. I haven’t actually finished the trilogy myself, but just knowing roughly what happens was enough. Reading Six of Crows, on the other hand, is practically required. There are heart-wrenching moments that would be lost on the reader if they hadn’t read Six of Crows, and there are multiple references to characters in the series. Breaking it down item by item on the rubric (which is comprised of Plot (30), Characters (30), Writing (20), and Closure (20)), KOS gets full score on everything except Characters for me. But it’s more of an opinion thing than anything else. The plot is perfect and fast-paced, and Bardugo’s writing is as pristine as ever. This is her best writing to date, her words crisper and rawer than anything I’ve read in the past three or four years. The most gratifying thing for me, I think, is comparing how juvenile The Grisha Trilogy seems compared to King of Scars; The Grisha Trilogy was Bardugo's infant stage; King of Scars is out for blood and savoring every drop. King of Scars was … not what I was expecting. In fact, I don’t think a single person got a detail of the plot right. This book took me by surprise every step towards the end, and the characterization of characters also forced me to reconsider what I had cast them as in my mind. In the end, King of Scar's mere 500 or so pages is ensconced with wave after wave of wrecking action, story, and cadence. It was my absolute honor and fortune that I got to read it on the day of release. Click "Read More" for spoilers. Spoiler Section
Plot (30/30) My rubric breaks Plot up into three sections, but let’s conform to the book and talk about each half at a time. Part One: The Drowning Man (15/15) Is there a more perfect title?? It’s a theme that’s brought up over and over again, and there’s a symbolism that chips away at my heart upon realizing that out of all of the things Nikolai could have chosen—grand lady, stubborn child—he chooses the drowning man. Himself. At the end, and perhaps always. The beginning story with Dima is the best of the Grishaverse’s “poor bystander” introductions. I found the ones in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom really very dry, but this one with Dima completely enchanted me. He reminds me of both Zoya and Nikolai. In my mind, Zoya and Nikolai’s scene in the carriage still remains one of the few lengthened romantic scenes between the two of them in the novel. I remember someone describing on the wiki page a “romantic subplot” and honestly, that’s what all of the relationships in this book are. There are few moments where Zoya and Nikolai are by themselves, with their guards down, and far more where they are bantering in passing. I read Nina’s chapter exactly once when the sampler came out, and I completely skipped over it this time. It was easily forgettable to me, especially because all it established was that they were in Fjerda. And that she was carrying Matthias’s body around. Oh Matthias. We go from there to Nikolai and Kirigin, and I really expected the Gilded Bog to be a bigger plot point. Maybe it was because I centered a lot of theories around it. For the base of operations, it seemed deserving of more book time. Everything melds into one from here on (except Nina’s chapters, but we’ll get to that). I adored the banter between Nikolai, the Triumvirate, and the twins. It’s a flawless, flawless transition from Nikolai’s monster problem to Yuri and the cult and to the Fold. I felt like I was floating in the sky, looking down at everything. THAT SCENE where Zoya loses her temper in the middle of the Fold was brilliant. I honestly thought I would be angrier at Zoya for being so reckless, but I was shocked to find I hardly was anything other than in support. Before King of Scars, I feel like I’ve always had a picture of a calm Zoya in my mind, but after this, everything has changed. The barest, rawest moments in this book are based off of The Grisha Trilogy, and it was only through watching the Grisha in this book relive that pain that I myself felt it. That’s the beauty of third-person; it tells you everything. It makes you feel everything. With Alina, we only knew her emotions and had to guess at other people’s. (I do wonder if Bardugo had written The Grisha Trilogy in third-person if we would have more sympathy for Mal, knowing his motives.) A main theme of this book is power and greed. And while a plethora of characters points fingers at Zoya without shame, it was the Fold scene that really convinced me otherwise. It is the ultimate culmination of Zoya learning to serve something herself instead of others, to let go of her duties and anger and pain. This time, she wasn’t angry on behalf of the Darkling—calling Alina a peasant, breaking her ribs—or Nikolai—burning Magnus Opjer’s picture, seething at people who would insult her country—she was doing it for herself. And you can see just how deeply emotions run, not just in her, this one fictional character, but in all humans. And I know that sounds wild and fake, but when I read that scene, I felt it. It took me by the collar and threw me against the wall. “Let go of me,” she seethed. “Where is the shrine to my aunt? To Saint Harshaw? To Sergei or Marie or Fedyor? Who will worship them and light candles in their names?” She felt the unwelcome prickle of tears in the back of her throat and swallowed them down. These people did not deserve her tears, only her anger. All of these characters are a lifetime ago for her and the reader. Harshaw was funny. Fedyor was kind. Marie was foolish. Sergei was a coward. But they were all just children. Like Zoya herself. And the mention of Sergei’s name specifically really drove the point home for me. Because we all felt for Sergei in Ruin and Rising after losing Marie, but we could never forgive him for being such a coward and betraying them. Zoya’s anguish over him, still, reminds me of the fact that you can sometimes never truly let go of the people you used to know, regardless of what they did. And that pure human pain, that pure human emotion, is what made my heart ache for Zoya. Circling back to Nina: I have more to say about her character arc as a whole in the section further down for her character, but the one scene I just need to take time to address is Matthias’ burial. Like Zoya’s pain, whatever I say will never encompass how deeply I felt Nina’s grief. Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting to tear up already. Eight chapters in. It wasn’t Nina’s eulogy that got me, oh no. It was the last few paragraphs. But Matthias’ voice was not [real]. It had never been. “You were never here,” she whispered, the tears coming hard now. “You were never here.” All this time, she had wanted to believe that he was still with her, but it had been her voice all along, talking herself through the silence, forcing herself to do the work of living when all she wanted was to let go. That scene broke me. Completely. Because it’s been nearly a year since I last read CK, but reading this scene brought back all of the ghosts. There’s nothing more I can say. Part Two: The Witch in the Woods (15/15) I am so, so glad I read The Language of Thorns recently because the moment I saw this title I choked. Well, I’m choking now because I thought it was going to be Zoya and it turned out to be Elizaveta, but we'll get to that. I read a review on Goodreads where someone expressed their disappointment that the Saints were made actual beings, and I think I agree. The second half of this book was very Throne of Glass to me for some reason; divine beings becoming mortal, mortal beings becoming divine, royal pawns. The reviewer expressed that the power of the Saints in the Grishaverse was that they were part of the lore. They made up the culture of Ravka, adding to the way the characters thought and providing rationale for how the story should be built. By humanizing them, it took that power away. If you were to pressure me for an answer, I think I’d agree. Because while in the end it didn’t really matter for me, I think that making the Saints so similar to your average human, it added too much magic to the story. It sort of raises the question, if the Saints can be human, what’s not possible? (Probable.) Plus, it also raises too many questions about the world-building. Why are only Juris, Grigori, and Elizaveta there? All of the Saints were martyred, like Nikolai mentioned. So why only the three of them? Is it related to their animal mythology? It adds too many factors to a universe where (in my opinion) the Grisha orders are already subject to debate. Plus, I could have sworn Elizaveta was Sankta Lizabeta the last time she was mentioned in SOC and the first half of KOS. Unless Lizabeta is a diminutive of Elizaveta. And at the palace … ISAAK. Gotta admit, wasn’t really a fan fan of Isaak, primarily because of his stumbling in the end. Even if Ehri (or fake Ehri) was in love with him, he completely forgot that to everyone else, he was still the King of Ravka. Back to the Fold. Juris is officially the best. Maybe tied with Gregori. Anyone but Elizaveta. For someone who mentored for exactly two-ish weeks, he sure whipped Zoya into shape. It also gave me an appreciation for how Bardugo balances all these relationships. We all know that Zoya isn’t one for softness, but there’s a difference in how she opens up to Nikolai and Juris respectively. Nikolai is a love interest; she wants understanding and conversation with him. Juris is a mentor; she needs him to help her evaluate her own understanding, often forcefully. It’s so subtle and nuanced, but it truly is one of the things that helps define Bardugo as such a strong writer. Elizaveta is … Let’s just say, if you’re reading a Leigh Bardugo book and you’re not looking for crazy plot twists … you must be new here. Look, guys. I knew Elizaveta was shady from the moment she refused to recognize Alina as a saint. But the reason why I kept my suspicions at bay was because Nikolai trusted her. And I trust Nikolai. Which turned out to be a really sad mistake. That battle where Zoya completely annihilated Elizaveta still shakes me to my core. And when Juris died (merged with Zoya??). Surprisingly emotional. Especially considering how he mentioned that Elizaveta tricked him with “honey mead.” That tugged on my heartstrings; knowing that he had just longed for something wordly, something to hold and enjoy. I wasn’t expecting Yuri’s involvement, though. I was duped along with Zoya on that one. And I certainly wasn’t expecting the Darkling to come back. Was it fanservice to bring him back? The more I think about it, yes. Because we wrapped up his partial redemption (villain-has-a-heart-kinda-justifies-their-evil-deeds) arc in The Grisha Trilogy. I’m not really sure why Bardugo brought him back, or what part he could possibly play. I have my doubts, but I guess we just have to trust in Bardugo's plans for the next book. Backtracking to Nina again: There’s not much to say, really. I was kind of shocked when Bardugo introduced the idea of breeding Grisha (or whatever parem-addled creatures the Fjerdans wanted) because it didn’t seem like something she’d go for? Weirdly, that’s what I thought. And it also adds another similarity between King of Scars and Throne of Glass, when they were breeding ilken in Heir of Fire. It seems to be a popular trope in YA nowadays. I did scream when we found out Hanne’s father was Jarl Brum though. There are too many plot twists in this book. Characters (29.5/30, broken down into Development (15/15) and Allure (14.5/15)) In general, there was good development of character arcs but not enough lure. And the one I’m going to throw under the bus is Nina. And with that, why not talk about Nina? Nina Let’s just get it out of the way. I was not a fan of Nina in this book. Not Nina herself, but her arc. Her part in this novel was nowhere near as enthralling as her part in Six of Crows. In fact, come to think of it, why did we need Nina’s point of view anyway? Bardugo could have very easily had a minor character come back and tell Os Alta about the Fjerdans’ experiments. In my mind, the only real reason Nina was made a major character is because of her journey to bury Matthias. I’m guessing it meant a lot to Bardugo to include it, and that’s perfectly fine, but plot-wise it didn’t make sense to me. In the grand scheme of things, Nina played such a minute role that everything else heaped on top of her—the mission, Adrik and Leoni, Hanne—felt forced. As if Bardugo needed more drama to really justify Nina’s large role. I also wasn’t really a fan of her and Hanne. I think, for me, despite the three month (or so) gap between Crooked Kingdom and King of Scars, there wasn’t enough grief over Matthias before moving on to Hanne. And I know that sounds really bad—me judging Nina for “getting over it too quickly”—but I’m also wondering if it made sense to the plot either? I felt rushed towards Hanne; Matthias had just been buried when she showed up in the snowstorm. And aside from Hanne, Nina was pulling some serious Kaz Brekker “I-need-to-do-this-on-my-own” propaganda and not letting Adrik and Leoni in on her plans. This especially frustrated me when she was saved by Hanne after rushing back to the convent from the factory. I also felt like her calling Adrik and Leoni saints at the end was strange. Because Fjerdans can change and not see Grisha as evil, but no amount of haunted girls will make them accept saints that quickly … right? The best Nina scene aside from Matthias’ funeral was when she spoke about growing up in the orphanage and being bullied by that dickhead boy whose name I don’t care enough to search up. For some reason that just really got me. I’m hoping for a better role for Nina in the next book, but I’m not optimistic, to be honest. As long as she’s outside of Ravka, her role and its connections are too tangential for me. Nikolai: Oh boy. The Nikolai banter in this book? Brilliant. I don’t think there’s really anything to be said about Nikolai’s personal thoughts on how he needs to pretend in front of courtiers. That was covered pretty much in its entirety in chapter 4. I have to say I was disappointed that he was fooled by Elizaveta though. That hurt my faith in him. The best Nikolai scenes are when he’s with or thinking about Zoya. Their scenes together always feature the point of view character wanting to be vulnerable with the other but lacking the skills to do so. The most prominent scene is when Nikolai literally takes eight pages thinking about his friend Dominik and how he wants to tell Zoya about him but ends up saying nothing new. Please. Nikolai. The whole concept of “the monster is really just my own insecurity” is … cliche? That’s my gut reaction. It seems like a very metaphorical way (although according to Juris, “sometimes a dragon is just a dragon”) of dealing with Nikolai’s personal issues. However, my bit of leniency towards that judgement is that it’s arguable that the Darkling was actually the one speaking at the very end, as a sentient being who just wants to get out. I felt like the end of Nikolai’s arc was lacking. We went on a whole journey just to end up back where we started. The duology’s not over, but at this point … I’m starting to wonder if we need more books. Zoya: MY QUEEN. MY LOVE. MY DRAGON. Like Nina and Nikolai, Zoya’s strength as a character in this book comes from her backstory. Out of the three of them, she has the strongest one, mostly because we knew virtually nothing about her before this book. 1. Zoya’s Wedding I got chills when she first mentioned her mother trying to marry her off: Should I tell you about the old man my mother wanted to marry me off to when I was nine years old? I think the saddest part was the fact that Zoya makes a point to link it all back to her parents marrying for love. Despite the fact that her mother was so beautiful she could have had anyone she wanted. That, along with what her mother tried to do, is presumably why Zoya can’t love or feel that she can't love. And yet, it doesn’t excuse her mother for what she did. Absolutely not. That whole overheard conversation with her mother and Liliyana talking about how her new husband would wait until Zoya bled hurt me. It broke me beyond almost everything else in this book. But when Zoya brought the church down? Yes. 2. Zoya’s Aunt I wonder if Bardugo knew she would be writing something with Nikolai when she wrote that line in Siege and Storm about Zoya defecting to their side after the Darkling destroyed Novokribirsk. Because if so, that’s some brilliant foreshadowing. I think I could have done without the scene where the old man tells Zoya that Liliyana sacrificed herself for him? I felt like it promoted the idea of a perfect aunt too far … although Zoya’s anger at everyone around her was so palpable and realistic. 3. Zoya and the Tiger This story is important because it showcases a pivotal moment between Zoya and Nikolai. It reminded me of another story I’d heard—perhaps the Too-Clever Fox—where the main character tries to do something good with negative consequences. But just that simple action: “He said that I’d doomed them as surely as if I’d taken a knife to their throats myself. That she’d leave them to die in the snow. But I don’t believe that, do you?” Her face was composed, but her eyes were imploring. Nikolai felt as if he were looking at the young girl she’d been on that cold and bloody night. Zoya looks towards Nikolai for comfort in this scene, and it is the first time in the novel she gives information freely about herself to Nikolai. Before, it was stilted and largely prompted by teasing. But this time, Nikolai asks her out of curiosity: “Your amplifier […] Will you tell me how you got it?” “Why does it matter?” “I don’t know that it does.” But he wanted to know. He wanted to sit here and listen to her talk. For all the time they’d spent together, Zoya was still a mystery to him. This might be his last chance to unravel her. Sure, it comes about because neither of them are sure that Nikolai will survive the process of purging himself, but it’s a transfer of trust nonetheless. And this scene is how I know Nikoloya will be endgame, because they’ve come too far. (I hope?? I think??) Zoya has the best arc in this entire novel, and what I don’t think enough people realize about this style of plot—creating a different story but with a minor character from the same universe—is that it’s very, very difficult to show character development without extensive familiarization for the reader first. In other words, some authors spend so much of the book developing their minor character (traits, quirks, likes/dislikes) into a major character that there aren’t enough pages left to then show even more development. But Bardugo somehow manages to familiarize the reader with Zoya from page one and throw her into the thick of it and watch her metamorphose. I think the only qualm I have with her involves how I’m unsatisfied that the Saints were made human. Because now that Zoya is officially “the most powerful Grisha in the world”, it seems almost to me that we’re just trying to … one-up Alina? I know I’m not supposed to see it that way, but I can’t help but think about how just when we thought we had the most powerful Grisha ever, we get yet another one. It’s a little frivolous. The necessity of this move, however, is that it’s probably going to be used as justification for being queen … hopefully … Juris, however, makes a point to say this: “You waste your time with trifles.” “My country’s future is not a trifle.” “King and country are not the same.” […] “You will see in time. When he grows old and you only grow more powerful.” And that concerns me. Why has every YA author decided that an immortal-mortal relationship is the only tragic love story that exists? Also I feel like this was said previously in The Grisha Trilogy? Something about how Alina shouldn’t be with Mal because she’ll outlive him?? (King of Scars is rehashing old storylines and I’m not really sure how to feel about it.) Hanne I … liked her? I still feel she’s still a little one-dimensional for me. She’s a little too perfect, but her banter with Nina and her ability to be quick on her feet is beginning to be endearing. I hope to explore more of her relationship with her father. Juris Like I mentioned before, Juris’s value comes from being Zoya’s best tutor. I loved the transfer of power and trust between them at the very end, and seeing how Juris and Zoya’s personalities aligned (when they tore apart Elizaveta together). I really wish we got to see more of Juris, considering the fact that they were only together for two weeks. Elizaveta I think, to a certain extent, Elizaveta’s motives are understandable. We saw through Nikolai the toll that being in the Fold had on him, and to endure that for centuries must have been difficult. Still, when your peers don’t feel the same lust for destroying people … you’re doing something wrong. I still don’t really understand the ending. How did we go from “the Darkling is dead” to “I saved his body"? Yuri Honestly Yuri isn’t at the bottom because I saved him for dramatic effect he’s at the bottom because I forgot he was a character. Do I even consider him “Yuri” anymore?? Do I call him the Darkling?? Is he going to be the crux of the next book in a “what do we do after we purge the Darkling from him” way? Do we even want him to survive? The Apparat I was expecting the Apparat to have a much larger role in this. Especially considering all of the worries that he would be the one to try and overthrow Nikolai. But calling him a red herring seems a little too naive. Writing (20/20) Descriptions (10/10) I’m not a visual reader, so I tend to gravitate towards writing that takes more time describing emotions rather than setting. This book definitely catered to me. Each character went through a scene where their pain, their hope, their fear, was palpable. It was the most dragged-along I’ve ever felt in a book, and for that, it deserves all of the points. Actually, bonus points for one scene in particular: “What happened to Lusha’s baby?” Dominik asked. “A khitka came for it,” his mother replied. But Nikolai and Dominik were not children anymore, and they knew better than to listen to talk of evil forest spirits. “She drowned it herself,” Dominik told Nikolai the next day. “She had stopped making milk because her family is starving.” This scene got me, just like the rest of the backstories. It shows how deeply we, as readers, are impacted by the recognition of human cruelty—even though this is a fictional universe—and how we begin to understand the awful disconnect between the rest of the royals and the peasants. It not only characterizes the true vapidity of Nikolai’s childhood, but also how different he is from his predecessors. Flow (10/10) The way I graded Flow for this book is controversial. To me, at least. For me, Flow means the ease of words, not necessarily plot-wise. If that was the case, I’d dock points for Nina’s chapters, because of how out-of-place and uncomfortable they were for me. But it’s the writing behind King of Scars that enables it to keep its full score. Closure/Set-Up (20/20) Logic (10/10) I know I’ve ranted about the ending and how it’s ultimately fanservice, but I think that it was still a logical sequence of events. I was actually expecting the book to end with Nikolai and Zoya trapped in the Fold, and I was disappointed when they seemed to return to the palace, safe and sound. That is, until it was revealed that Yuri did a Peter Parker and melded with the Darkling. But I like the way Bardugo wrapped everything up. She reminded the reader that Nikolai still needed to find a queen, there was a Fjerdan claimant to the throne, and that the Cult of the Starless Saint was still out there. Allure/Closure (10/10) There are three main factors to consider going into King of Scars #2: 1. Nikolai and Zoya's Relationship Elizaveta completely interrupted whatever Zoya was about to say before Nikolai thorned himself so hopefully we get a scene in the next book exploring that! As for Nikolai and Ehri’s engagement, I’m desperately hoping we get a relationship like Kestrel and her fiancé in The Winner’s Crime; they weren’t a ship, but they became friends and stayed friends. Ehri seems to have so much potential as a character. But she also seems so similar to Nikolai (just wanting a peaceful life) and that’s going to heighten the stakes for Nikolai and Zoya's relationship in the next book. 2. The Darkling Like I said, I haven’t finished The Grisha Trilogy yet so the jury’s still out on the Darkling for me. But there’s no doubt that he’s going to be a major part of the next book, especially with his cult followers right outside the city walls (although they’re all okazats’ya, not Grisha, which will be interesting). I can’t say I’m especially excited to see another one of his storylines (or perhaps the second half of his storyline) play out unless it involves an even more extreme redemption arc. And even then, I don’t know if it could, with Alina out of the picture. 3. Nikolai’s half-brother the Lantsov Pretender I think that this is probably the most frightening thing to me right now. I don’t know how much people know or care about history, but when people have pretended to be the “true” ruler of a country when its people are divided, it gets bloody. (e.g., Perkin Warbeck and Lambert Simnel during Henry Tudor’s reign.) It’s not as simple as making one grand speech and earning the people’s trust. Especially in Ravka, where Nikolai has the support of the masses (peasants) but not of the nobles (people with real power). If the Fjerdans sway the nobles to their side, Ravka is done for. Also, Magnus Opjer is riding with them. There’s a reason why Bardugo included that scene of Zoya throwing the miniature into the fire. I thought about the possibility that she had thrown away their only shot at convincing Magnus to join them and abandon his other son (a long shot), but if he ever met Nikolai, hopefully they would recognize each other. Ultimately, King of Scars: +Fantastic character development +Brilliant descriptions +The plot is strong, but a little awry at the end +Nina's storyline needs to be a little closer to the main plot
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