Mehhh.
I must read more short stories. I must get used to the small format conveying the same emotion and build and creativity as the long form novel. But these four stories feel disconnected and cold and unwelcoming, cutting the reader off in a very dispassionate way. Which may be due to the bleak content: all four stories are relentlessly dark and nauseating.
It's a relatively quick read, but that might have been me skimming frantically over another description of maggots and rats trying to find a glimmer of hope, which this series simply doesn't have, except in the first (and I believe strongest) story.
Mild spoilers as I talk through each section.
Okay, so it's four short stories. They're sort of related to each other. That is, they take place in the same world and they mention events that the others set up, but no characters or plots return once their part is ended.
The first one is about an alchemist who is trying to stop this bramble from taking over the world--this bramble is finely attuned to magic in all shapes and sizes, and whenever any magic is used, it grows. It's deadly stuff, sending its victims to eternal (usually, unless the plot requests otherwise) sleep with just a touch of its fibrous tentacles. Cool, Sleeping Beauty stuff in this weird semi-Mesopotamian (maybe?) fantasy landscape. But with more maggots crawling around inside the victims over time because why not. This first tale sets the landscape up and puts out the rules for the magic system. The main character is persistent and despite his awful circumstances filled with hope for his daughter's survival and the idea that he can save the world. It balances the bleak with the good. It feels the most complete. Characters are finely developed, goals clear and completed by the end of it, sense of place strongest.
The next three feel meandering and without purpose.
The second story is about an older mother figure whose sons are stolen in a raid and her long trip in a caravan to get them back. Which...she doesn't succeed in. Her sons are still gone and she never sees them again, far as we know. She takes over a city, but solves nothing and eventually seems to decide that the people who stole her family in a raid were at least sort of right all along because without them the bramble is really causing mayhem in her city. Feels like a stationary story where nothing proceeds. Yay, fighting women I guess, whatever, rah-rah the patriarchy sucks, what message am I meant to come away with here exactly?
The third story is about a young boy and girl who used to be very rich, lost their home to bramble, came to live as refugees in a city that doesn't want them, and is The Worst. The girl, Rain, accidentally touches bramble and falls asleep, and her brother, Mop, refuses to mercy-murder her, but decides to keep her safe until she maybe wakes up--tho this never happens (except when the plot requests it, as mentioned). He loses her anyway, and spends the rest of his very short story desperately trying to find her by searching the brothels for "dolls"--others like her, in this eternal living slumber where they're still alive and warm, but can't fight their rapists. Of which there are hundreds of dolls, and Lots of Gross Men (only men?) who want to enjoy their night of Mostly-Dead Sex. And then after a convoluted midnight magic romp he finds her body being raped by his boss, and she Still Doesn't wake up but for some reason they're now accepted by their coworkers because Reasons. Feels the most incomplete, like it exists for shock value and little else. Characters are flat and pointless, and the reader just stumbles along watching the horrible events with detachment. Hurrah.
The final story is an Extremely Black piece about the atrocities the rich will do to the poor. A blacksmith is hired by a lordling to make armor, but they weren't paid enough to finish it. When they present the half-completed armor to the lordling and request funds for the rest, he tells them to stuff it, sell their daughter as a doll by brushing her with bramble thorns, and make the rest of his order anyway. She apparently thinks that her parents will do this, because she doesn't sleep at home again until they've schemed up a way to escape (some nice family love there), and in the escape they're caught and her parents thrown into a pit and buried alive with bramble magically, in such a way that they won't die right away apparently because That's How That Works. She's given a ticking time schedule to finish the armor before her parents suffocate in a fifteen-foot-deep pit or fall asleep, which goes as well as you'd expect because This Book Has No Hope. Drama and maggots ensue, and she attempts a rescue which has a guessable outcome, let's be real, and then she rides her horse into the sunset leaving the readers with a bit ol' "....okaaaaay?" look of horror on their face as they realize that's where we're leaving it. Characters and stakes are at least better defined here than the third story, though the big bads are almost cartoonish in their bad-ness.
Also, commas are thrown all over the place like we're playing darts with no rhyme or reason. And there are other typos and misused words and nonsense that makes me think we forgot to bring an editor along at all.
Look. The book has a really interesting landscape, even if I personally had a hard time pinning exactly what I was looking at for most of it. And I feel like the ideas were there. They just seem to be really lost under the shock value sequences. The first story with the alchemist truly was an interesting little piece. But the villains are all cardboard cut outs with no gray to balance them out, and the messages are so lost beneath such intense loss and sorrow, and the book ends on such a bleak, horrible note that I'm really not sure what readers are meant to take away. I get that this is a series of short stories set in the same universe, only tangentially related to each other. Leaving it open like this lets the authors keep playing in this sandbox universe without having to resolve anything. They can keep building and tearing down as they like.
But, storywise, we have a way to fix the bramble--we've had it since The Alchemist--but for some reason the alchemist never builds a new bramble destroying balanthast, never shops it to a new city, never opens up the wilds, never builds up an army of his own, never deals with the nebulous and ill-defined power of the forbidden magic that the majistar has. We never see nor hear of the Alchemist and the amazing, world-saving thing he's created despite that being one of his main character motivations.
Instead we just watch stuff spiral deeper and darker into blackness and the worst of humanity with no hope for the good that we also carry in our hearts.
It's going to stick with me for a very, very long time. But I don't think that's a good thing in this case.