I liked this slightly better than the first book, if only because it was not quite as filled with inconsistencies. But I still didn’t think it lived up to its very cool concept. And once again, War does not sound authentic — here we have a former Saudi-area bedouin who has spent most of his life as horseman on the Mongolian steppes with only his horses for company, but he calls Russell "dude" and has a pack of condoms and lube handy at his ramshackle abode in the middle of nowhere. I’d have preferred yak butter. It all seems so perfunctory; there is no real flavour to the world of the horsemen, and they’re Frankenstein characters; cobbled together from bits and pieces that don’t fit together well.
Russell, on the other hand, is a much better character than the first book’s bland Bart, and the description of his PTSD is handled with sensitivity.
The world building as regards the horsemen leaves much to be desired, the philosophy is paper-thin — oh, we need the horsemen to introduce some serious, large-scale suffering because otherwise good and evil won’t be in balance? Funny, I’ve never noticed a surfeit of good in our world even in the absence of war, famine, plague, and death. I think we need a few anti-horsemen instead.
Also, we have so far had two guilt-ridden horseman protagonists, who have suffered for centuries because of what they did BEFORE they died and became horsemen. But somehow the much larger body count and suffering they have inflicted during their later career seems to just slide off like they’re made of teflon — oh, they don’t like their jobs, but they’re not having the same kind of guilt pangs over it — and that despite both Pestilence and War’s very hands-on activities. Death told them it’s ok (they were just following orders!), so hey, no problem? Me, I’d want to have a chat with management. Because I’d be wondering whether I am working for the right side, you know? These people have centuries to ponder their existence, and they’ve not spent as much time on it as your average 17 year old teenager.
And how come Death knows anyway? This is even a relatively young Death, younger than either Pestilence or War — yet when a new horseman is made, Death waits for him and informs him of his duties and the rules. Who waited for this new Death after the French Revolution? Maybe we’ll find out in the 4th book why Death is the special horseman snowflake.
Once again we’re teased with the presence of Lam, the uppity agnus dei called in for "babysitting", but we don’t find out much more about him. We also get a piece of info about the horses which is mildly intriguing but goes nowhere once again.
I don’t know whether I can stomach reading another one. I probably will because I am ornery that way, and I own them all.