Source of book: NetGalley (thank you)
Relevant disclaimers: None
Please note: This review may not be reproduced or quoted, in whole or in part, without explicit consent from the author.
Oh fuck me with a rusty teaspoon, this is ANOTHER terrifyingly dark, morally ambiguous faery-tale first part of a series YA thingy. Except it’s brilliant, so I don’t care.
(Seriously, though, my reading resolution for 2022is going to be: do more research and don’t embark on unfinished series).
Anyway, Violet Made of Thorns centres on Violet, an orphan street urchin and seer, who has clawed her way into a position of authority in the royal court of what seems, at first glance, a benign fantasy kingdom. Except Cyrus, the crown prince, is cursed, the king is not above manipulating prophecy for his own ends, and Violet herself is a cynical, closed-off liar determined to protect herself at all costs.
In case it isn’t clear from that description, I LOVED Violet with all my messed up, damaged heart. In the note at the beginning (that I sincerely wished had come at the end—I’m not mad keen on being told what a book is trying to do before I’ve had an opportunity to decide for myself if it works or not) the author says very explicitly that she wrote Violet specifically for those who tend to relate to the unrelatable. She’s an unabashedly flawed heroine who not only makes some pretty terrible decisions, but her defends her right to make them. And, most notably, struggles to do those things that sometimes seem to come so naturally to certain fictional characters: trust, hope, believe in love, surrender her own power.
I feel very seen right now. And slightly called out.
For anyone who has read Stephanie Garber’s Once Upon A Broken Heart, Violet is kind of the anti-Emmeline. And how much does it kind of delight me that I’ve read two YA faery tale books this year, one of which allowed its protagonist to make non-ideal decisions because she refuses to listen to her head and another that allowed its protagonist to do the same because she refuses to listen to her heart.
Anyway, I don’t want to go into too much detail about Violet Made of Thorns because the narrative, with its twists and turns and it’s thrillerish who exactly is trying to achieve what and with whom quality, is such a pleasure to watch unfold. But, believe me, everything about the book was pitch perfect for me, from Violet’s brutally sardonic voice, to the diverse and intriguing cast (special shout out to Camilla, Cyrus’s chaos lesbian of a twin sister), to the way Violet’s identity (she’s an outsider by social status and race, as well as because of her magic) is inextricable from her story. I was also incredibly impressed by the way Violet Made of Thorns gradually peeled back the layers of its initially generic fantasy kingdom to explore themes of colonialism, expansionism and the destruction of the natural world, and all without ever seeming forced or didactic.
And there is no way I can wrap up this review without mention Violet’s “Prince Charming” Cyrus. He is a flawed hero for a flawed heroine and, oh my God, does this book take enemies-to-lovers to a new level. They were enemies even when they were lovers. And, yet, somehow, swept away on UST and my romance reader need for a happy ending, I found myself rooting for them? In all seriousness, though, enemies-to-lovers is not generally a trope I’m drawn to because it’s hard to make the ‘enemies’ part as convincing as the ‘lovers’ part without making you question whether the characters should be together. And this often feel a little toothless to me, over-shadowed by its own trope (the reader’s meta-knowledge that everything will work out okay): that is very much NOT the case here. I believed in both the enemies AND the lovers, and the result was a relationship that felt genuinely unpredictable, precarious and dangerous for the participants.
Y’know, for someone who doesn’t read much YA, I’ve read some abso-fucking-lutely incredible YA this year. Of course, it’s not a competition and if you’re looking for something to read I’d stand by any of recommendations. Violet Made of Thorns, though. This book was amazing in all the ways. But it also felt … special, personally special. If your taste skews anywhere close to mine, you need to read it.
*Mini edit: while I grumbled about this book being the first of a planned duology, I should add that it forms a complete arc and offers significant emotional payoff. It leaves the characters facing an uncertain future but it doesn't leave you hanging. So it can be safely read on its own term (as much as I am already excited for the next book).