The majority of this book gets a 5-star rating from me. The last 50 pages get a 3-star rating: read on to see what I mean. I have tried to keep this spoiler free, but there are mentions of some plot points, using as general terms as possible.
What Llywelyn does so incredibly well in this text is twofold. Firstly, she has a knack for turning a phrase that is keener than any I've encountered in recent memory. Here you won't find the ongoing, extensive, paragraphs-long passages of "literary" beauty seen in novels deemed "classics." What you will find are scattered but affective sentences: "... she brought joy into the shadowed hall and garlanded its walls with laughter" or "Ravaged by battle cries, his voice rasped in his throat, but he continued until it was only a whisper of grief." You won't be dumbstruck by any grand revelations; you will find yourself pausing, pointing, and saying aloud "That's a good line right there." The prose is fairly simple, but oh is it enjoyable.
Secondly, Llywelyn is, in my measure of this novel, an expert at converting the directness and flatness of mythology into a living, breathing world, particularly when it comes to characterization. I picked up 'Red Branch' for the sole purpose of reading a more stylistically enjoyable and descriptive version of the Ulster cycle myths with which I'd fallen in love. Cuchulain, our protagonist and my favorite mythological character, is given the appropriate depth and mental complexity denied to him by the mythological writing style. And Llywelyn finally does justice for Emer, voicing the feminine perspective severely lacking in the original legends and showcasing just how crucial a role she plays in the overall context of the Ulster cycle. The mutual romance of Cuchulain and Emer is also a refreshing change of pace for anyone completely fed up with mythological pairings involving Olympians changing into swans to rape human women (bad Zeus-- naughty, naughty Zeus!); the sex does read like Harlequin romance, but it's no '50 Shades...' by any means. But Llywelyn's true triumph is handling the central antagonist, Maeve, in all of her ferocious glory. It boils down to the fact that, as a reader, I both loved and hated Maeve for all the right and wrong reasons, all at once. When it comes to an antagonist, that's the kind of perspective you want to achieve -- and Llwelyn nails it.
This was so painfully close to being a perfect read for me, but there are two major problems that beat my enjoyment of it down at the last minute. Firstly, Llwelyn chooses to truncate Maeve's role in the climactic battle of the third act (by comparison to the myth on which it is based) in favor of concluding that individual story arc more succinctly; considering how well-developed she is throughout the text, this feels like a disservice to her character. I feel Llwelyn missed the mark on that conversion. Ultimately, that problem merges into my other major issue with the text. While there are some pacing issues (moving too quickly, not too slowly) throughout, they're usually so minor as to be negligible. But pacing really becomes an issue in what is effectively the epilogue. Had Llwelyn cut the last four chapters, ending at the last sentence of page 436, it would have ended perfectly. Instead, she chooses to condense about a dozen years of plot into the last fifty pages in a move that feels shockingly rushed, so much so that I was taken aback.
Regardless, I got a lot of enjoyment out of this book, and I would highly recommend it to any fantasy or historical fiction fan, especially someone who hasn't read the original myths. This is a great route into Irish legend and a fun read that holds your interest throughout: A+ in my book.