Okay, first, a warning: if you ever engaged in self-harm, if you have ever been tempted to engage in self-harm, don't read this book. Don't go near this book. Don't even finish this review. You'd be better off reading Moby Dick backwards while dangling upside-down by a toe.
Actually, everyone would be better off reading Moby Dick backwards while dangling upside-down by a toe. This isn't just a bad book, it's an actively awful one on virtually every level. I finished this book so mad I came back to GR for the first time in years to write this review.
And then I stared at the blank box for weeks, wondering how to encapsulate all that was terrible about this book in one review. My conclusion: I can't. So let's just hit the lowlights, discussed here in no particular order because you can't really rank disasters of this magnitude.
Hero Confusion
This book has no idea who its heroes are. The nominal good guys, the ones the narrative wants us to root for, are the "good" earth natives (supernatural entities of many varieties -- werewolves, vampires, elementals, etc.). Now. The earth natives have powers that far overwhelm any human's abilities. A single earth native of the weakest variety can kill many humans. The most powerful varieties could kill every human on a continent without much effort, and they have no weaknesses at all. Because might exclusively makes right in this world (yeah, we'll get to that), the earth natives own everything in the Americas. (And most things everywhere else, as far as I could tell, but the worldbuilding -- we'll get to that, too -- is super shaky, so I'm not sure.)
The earth natives control resources, transportation, food, water, everything. And they can take any of that away from the humans, any time they want to. (They can also, of course, just kill them. Just sometimes it's more fun to make them eat their loved ones first.) This is textbook oppression. The most powerful control everything and will kill you or take away what you need to live at the slightest hint of dissent. And we're expected by this book to actively root for the oppressors to continue to dominate and oppress. I couldn't manage it.
Oh, and I mentioned that there are good and bad earth natives, according to the narrative. What separates them? The good ones only kill and hurt some humans. The bad ones want to kill all the humans. When the good ones get angry, they only kill or hurt the people who pissed them off, plus a random selection of other humans who had nothing to do with it. When the bad ones get angry, they kill every human in a town or larger area. That's…like, it's an improvement not to kill everyone, sure, but. It doesn't make you good. It doesn't make you acceptable. I'm not going to like you just because you hurt innocent people less.
This Book Hates Women
WOW does this book hate women. The hatred oozes from every page. It's not just that Bishop relies on the same tired old misogynistic tropes -- the Evil Ex Who Has No Redeeming Features and Cruelly Manipulates a Man, the Terrible Woman Who Uses Her Body or Her Looks for Personal Gain and Thus Must Die Horribly, and of course that wonderful standby: the Only Good Woman Is a Victim. It's not even mostly that.
It's that Bishop has structured this world based on the following principles:
1. Might and only might makes right.
2. Humans are weak.
3. Women, even when powerful, are weak.
So you get a ruling class made up of earth natives, and who rules the earth natives? The dudes. The female earth natives may have phenomenal cosmic powers, and many of them do, but they don't make decisions. They serve. They cook. They clean. They care for children. They admire shiny objects. And that is all they get to do. And the human women, being in two despised classes (human and female) get even less.
The main female character, Meg, is a classic Good Woman Victim, having been raised in captivity, abuse, and total isolation (…and yet somehow she's able to function in society; sadly, I'm not going to have room here to cover the unrealistic pile of damaging crap that is this book's approach to trauma), with her actual life starting at the beginning of the book. She finds work as a clerk and gets adopted by the earth natives because she's -- well, nice to them? I guess? And also does her job better than her predecessors? It's never made clear. But her weakness is emphasized again and again, from her inability to get over a countertop (played for laughs) to her inability to make choices for her own body (repeatedly taken from her by many characters) to her helplessness and need for protection. She's the classic heroine who does not do but is done to. Her main ability is to hurt herself. (No, seriously, that's her gift: she cuts herself so she can issue prophecies.) It's frustrating as hell.
The male main character, meanwhile, is everything you ever hated about the dominant male werewolf stereotype multiplied by ten, with a heaping helping of oppression thrown in.
The only really interesting character is Asia, a woman who attempts to do things for herself, investigate, learn stuff -- except she's the buffoon bad guy, depicted as an over-the-top scheming moustache-twirling villain who should burn, burn, burn for her crimes (of…using what she has to attempt to get ahead in this oppressive society that limits her choices). Spoiler: she's killed horribly! As is the inevitable fate, in Bishop's world, of women who do stuff and make choices.
The Worldbuilding Is a Disaster. A Racist, Racist Disaster.
Okay, so, Native Americans. You remember them, right? Well, they…don't exist in this book. They never existed, as far as I can tell. And they aren't just erased, either. No. They are explicitly turned into monsters. The little legend at the front of the book describes the European colonists arriving in the New World and trading baubles and cloth for land rights. Um. That actually happened, except it was to actual people who were then horribly abused and killed. But no, here, they were all-powerful monsters! The heroes were the brave, noble, outmatched colonizers!
Yup. This story attempts to reclaim the colonizers as heroes myth, while apparently turning Native Americans into non-human monsters. I'll give you a second to settle your stomach.
But once you've swallowed that giant, choke-inducing, rotten pill, you have to swallow a whole bunch more tiny crap-flavored ones. Bishop has no explanation for anything in this book. Why did human society develop along such similar lines, with similar governmental systems, for example, when everything is so different? The earth natives were always there! The human government has been a sham from the start! Why would it look like ours? Why would the police system look like ours? Why would the entertainment industry be like ours? Why are the same inventions present when access to raw materials is tightly controlled by the earth natives and there are far, far fewer humans? Innovation should be stunted, but -- I guess it isn't. WHY? I could sit here all night coming up with these questions. None of them is ever answered, or answerable in a way that makes logical sense.
TL;DR
If you can ignore the misogyny, the racism, the utter senselessness, the hero confusion, and the other flaws of this book, it's a page-turning id romp. If you read it with your brain turned on for even a single second, the whole house of cards will collapse and you'll be left with absolute seething fury. At this book, at this author, at the people who published it, at the place that sold it to you, at the paper it's printed on.
Read something else. Almost anything else. Read Ilona Andrews' Burn for Me and discover what urban fantasy looks like when it doesn't hate women. Read The Martian and discover what page-turners are like when they don't leave you feeling dirty.
Or read this. In which case, I wish you strength. You'll need it.