Plenty of reviews speak about the stylistic choices made by the author; and while the plot and characters save the overworked and under-edited for the first book and half of the second, boy howdy do I have a bone to pick with the final, horrifying slog that is the conclusion of this trilogy.
I'd like to disclose that I am, mortifyingly, rather fond of these books, on account of reading them as a wee lass for the first time, and these things do have a way of staying with you when you're young and impressionable and at 14 do, in fact, dream of Adventure™ and think that the High King of Faerie is hot shit.
But rereading these in their entirety at my crotchety old age, I am compelled to vent my not inconsiderable rage in the aftermath of consuming the literary equivalent of about-to-go-bad skim milk. These books' many (numerous, abounding, frequent, innumerable, legion, lousy with, manifold, multitudinous, myriad, numberless, numerous, plentiful) shortcomings could be forgiven were it not for the author's insistence on discarding any semblance story for the sake of espousing the virtues of whiteness, thinness, blondness, beauty, and, imperatively, devotion to a man who you glimpsed through a window.
Fantasy thinspo has never been quite as masturbatory as it is in this series, but when your protagonist's only value is seemingly her hair and her waist and her magically enhanced beauty... Girl, we gotta talk. You can't just tell me that immortal royalty (hot men) be tripping over themselves for a teenager with the personality of a wet napkin. The whole "but she's just sooooooo pure and good and the Faeran just!!! know!!! that!!! about her!!!" had me rolling my eyes to Faerie and back; on account of the fact that in over 1500 pages, we're never given the opportunity to see her make any choices or act in ways which would indicate to us, the readers, that she isn't just flopping about from set piece to set piece in aid of a story which ultimately goes nowhere.
I, unlike many, don't take issue with the ending. It is appropriately stupid (and the two page epilogue only goes to indicate the author's unwillingness to actually stand by the "unhappy" ending she'd planned all along; I do not consider it to be the "real" ending) conclusion to a story which started out with so much promise. Banger world building, a fun implementation of Celtic lore and folk tales, something that was gritty without being grimdark. All of it to go out with a slow, uninspired fart.
This post is 18 years in the making. If you've made it this far, thanks -- hit me up if you're looking to add to your support group.