Crooked Kingdom

Like Six of Crows, I initially struggled to get into Crooked Kingdom. I care about this duology because of the group of main characters, and both books spend the first 50-100 pages just bringing that group together. I get bored in the meantime.

I was also frustrated by Bardugo moving the plot forward by Kaz having endless tricks up his sleeve. It seemed like a clumsy way to keep the reader in suspense. I will say, I think Crooked Kingdom did this less than SoC, especially as the book went on. Those are my two main gripes. Now, onto what I liked.

–Bardugo's take on trauma: it can occur at a young age, it can follow an isolated event (e.g., Kaz only had to lie in a pile of diseased dead bodies once to develop his aversion to physical touch) or after consistent exposure to the same terrible treatment (e.g., Wylan being rejected by his father over and over for his illiteracy, Inej's time at the Menagerie, Matthias and Nina being raised to hate one another).

–Bardugo's take on the Strong Silent Type: over the course of both books, Matthias pushes back against how he's been taught to view Grisha. He also pushes back against how he's been taught to repress all emotions except anger. He was trained to be an authority figure, someone who controls and intimidates others. But Matthias works to undo that. He's strong enough to stop boxing in both himself and others with absolutes.

Tangentially, it was oddly refreshing to see a male character as angry and violent as Kaz devoid of any interest in objectifying women, and in fact, in many cases angry and violent about others objectifying women. If we're going to have a Kaz type, I want him to create a fake plague in a brothel known to terrorize the girls and women working there.

–Friendship: the characters don't condemn the others in the group for their weaknesses and complexes. Most in the group have been told and/or have told themselves that they are lacking, in some way defective, perhaps even evil.

These characters don't blame their friends for not being able to do certain things. And it becomes cyclical; supporting each other helps them accept themselves. They show each other that they're not beyond hope, and that even if something can't be “overcome,” that doesn't make them incapable of success or unworthy of happiness.

I liked Bardugo's representation of female friendship with Nina and Inej. They worry about and comfort each other. Nina thanks Inej for “never trying to make [her] feel small.” I liked how everyone was delighted when Nina got her appetite back. Those bits were sweet.

–Questions of morality: How do we justify making decisions that we know will cause suffering? Does feeling remorse make us less culpable? Does earnest commitment to a cause or faith make us less culpable? Are Inej and Matthias any more or less moral than Kaz and Jesper? How close are any of us to making the sorts of choices these characters do?

If I had to sum up the duology as a whole, I would say that Leigh Bardugo knows what she's doing, and what she is doing is breaking my heart.