thebookbin's reviews
503 reviews

I don't think horror is for me. If I was going to enjoy a horror novel, I feel like it would have been this one. 

 This novel contains graphic depictions of incest, self-harm, and sexual assault, and I cover them in this review.

This is hands-down the most challenging book I've ever read. Byrne writes a story that completely de-centers the western writing canon. It's a startling experience, even for someone like me, who seeks out books written by women and enbies, authors of color, queer authors, and non-American authors. The "canon" as the current English-speaking world has come to know it has really limited the ways in which we tell stories, even if we don't recognize it as such (the hero's journey, the 3 act structure, trilogies, ect). While I recognize and appreciate what this novel does, there are some major issues which both detracted from my enjoyment of the novel and the values I think it is trying to express. 

The novel is told in three stories, all interwoven, but for the sake of the review I'll be addressing them individually.

First, the Mayan twins Ixul and Ajul. There's no getting past it: the incest. While reading this novel, I really challenged myself. I took the time to think about it. Is it the vestiges of Christian imperialism that condemns incest in our society the root of my disgust? Is it only frowned upon because of some weird heteronormative biological imperative to produce heirs? Is it so viscerally disgusting to me simply because it's been ingrained in me? I had to reject all of those avenues for a few reasons: one for some absolutely insane reason, incest fiction is alive and well. From Game of Thrones to the teen Mortal Instruments novels, you literally cannot escape incest in modern media, and it's always portrayed in a positive or romantic light, so it's not as if it's some edgy literary taboo. Then, my mind  goes to the real-world examples and studies of how it harms children and adult victims in recovery later in life. It's not as if their relationship is spontaneous--Ixul rapes her brother and takes advantage of him while he's still in shock and grieving after finding out their parents are dead. He's literally crying as she takes him. Then, later when Ajul questions their relationship, wants to consult the priests or outsiders, Ixul punishes him by withdrawing entirely and leaving him bereft of any human contact at all, until he comes back to her through sheer desperation. Yet their relationship and lovemaking are written in a positive light. Being in their heads when it's their POV is sickening, although I think the author doesn't want the audience to view it that way? I always wonder if the writers of incest fiction have siblings, and if so what those people have to think of it. 

Aside from the incest, which is hard to get past (for me at least), the story line set in the far past in the declining Mayan empire is bereft of purpose. We know this empire falls, and the royal family's condescension to the common people is integral to their downfall. Yet they do not learn from this. The blurb tells us that three souls are important in each timeline, and Ket, the younger sister disappears halfway through the story, and her importance to the narrative never sustained. Ajul and Ixul die in the cave like the many sacrifices perpetrated by the Mayan royalty before them--royalty which has turned its back on its people and has led their empire to ruin. To me, it sounds like punishment, like justice. Yet, I get the strong sense this is not the author's intention: we are meant to sympathize with the disgraced royals. Why? Great question, this book does not contain the answer. 

The story line set in modern times follows a teenage Leah, an American tourist visiting Belize for the first time. Her mother had gotten pregnant in Belize and moved back to Minnesota, and Leah is on a quest to "find herself." The narrative is very aware of the Eat, Pray, Love stereotype and even confronts it in the form of Xander, an edgy tour guide who hates his job and has a huge chip on his shoulder, simultaneously hating Belize and all it is, thinking it's beneath him and being fiercely protective. Leah is a self-described weirdo who has always sought a state of euphoria through self-harm and by layering sensations of top of each other. For example, she'll cut herself in the bathroom with the heat all the way up, the shower going for humidity, with chocolate in her mouth while wearing green-tinted sunglasses. She is searching for what she has decided is Xibalba, the ancient Mayan concept of the other world,  a shadow-realm like place of gods and monsters. She hears about Xibalba through the Discovery Channel, of course (it's giving Bella Swan googling "vampires" at 3pm). Based on the story of the third thread, set in the future, we assume there is something to Leah's story because a whole religion was formed around Leah's disappearance. And yet in the last chapter, we learn Leah has brain tumors and she's dying and it could all just be a hallucination. Which is it? Am I meant to be opening my mind to the possibility of Xibalba or writing it off? Another great question, I wish this novel contained the answers. 

The third thread was my favorite, the telling of the future. In a world ravaged by climate change, where the entire global population are intersex nomads who all worship Saint Leah and are on the quest for Xibalba. They have abandoned scientific rationales for the universe since people began spontaneously disappearing from the earth, beginning with Saint Leah in 2012, but nobody has "found xibalba" in hundreds of years. The two opposing characters are Niloux and Tanaaj, who are each vying to be the demagogue of a forming religion? (It's the best way I can describe it). Both are convinced that they know which way humanity, in its much reduced population and capacity, should head. They live in a world of perpetual nomaditry, not staying in any place for more than five days and their "familia" are only the few who are with them right now. But as the story progresses and each budding christ gains her own followers in the thousands, you watch as the values ingrained at the beginning of the narrative degrade for the characters: what they are willing to sacrifice for their new goals: the traditions on which their entire current society is based. There are lots of really cool morsels of world building that I would have loved to explore, but it is overshadowed by yet another contradiction: is this novel encouraging us to open our minds to Xibalba, or are we criticizing the religions that turn us into fanatics? Oh, how I wished this book answered that. 

As for something that happens in both the past and present story lines, the overemphasis on sex. Of course, there's the nauseating incest scenes. But it got to the point I was laughing. At one point "the pressure [in Leah's] bladder was making her horny" and both Xander and Javier get erections in public just thinking about Leah multiple times. Not only that, but so much attention is paid to Leah's nipples, when they're hard from the cold and when they're sensitive from the heat. Again, I had to ask myself: is this just me being prude, or having been trained by society to view sex and/or nudity as bad? Again, I came to the answer of "no." I did not grow up in America and have seen many naked people in non-sexual contexts. I actually think it's healthy and good for societies to know what real bodies look like. But this was getting comical because it over-sexualized everything. It wasn't Leah experiencing her body in its fullest, or the author acknowledging sex and bodily functions that are often times left out of fiction. Leah actively seeks out sex at thirteen. This does not bother me. But the line describing her partner, a seventeen year-old boy who tells her she's "mature for her age," that it hurt, but she asked for it, so it doesn't matter--it all made me recontextualize everything. I don't understand how in a novel where a character goes straight for anal sex with no communication with his partner and very little prep that is written like a "celebration of the body," matches with blaming a thirteen year-old for wanting to stop after getting hurt by a seventeen year-old because she sought it out. I don't understand what the author was trying to invoke. There are lines like "It was like the Crystal Maiden was the orgasm of the tour" that I am meant to take seriously as a reader and I found I just couldn't. If i took a shot for every time something ridiculous happens in a sexual context in this book, my liver would start failing. (At one point Leah wipes her pussy juices on Xander's pillow in the hopes the "pheromones" will lead to a sexual encounter. Like what?)

The end of the novel was disappointing. We know from the beginning that the characters are reincarnations of themselves, but  it's not abundantly clear which characters are the reincarnations of whom. And I don't understand why Ket/Leah were reincarnated if they supposedly found Xibalba, which was supposed to be the end goal. The novel ends, with Leah and her tumor-riddled brain either "finding Xibalba" or hallucinating as she drowns to death in a flooding cave. The last line "How had she forgotten? --that it was just as much pleasure to disperse as to be whole." left me confused. The best that I can come away with is as the Point of this story is something vague about seeking pleasure and finding wholeness.

Overall, I think a really interesting piece of literary fiction got bogged down by the mindset of an academic elite, which is evidenced by the lengthy author's note at the beginning, reminding us that this is a work of fiction and that the author takes "responsibility" for all literary choices made... which is a thing that all authors do regardless of a pedantic author's note at the beginning. And by the 14 page-long "Acknowledgement" section naming various academics, translators, Belizian tour guides, and intellectuals who were all apparently necessary for the creation of the book. After the first four pages which are typical explanations of what each person did, it devolves into an endless list of names. I am not joking. The last ten pages of this book are a list of names of people with no context who had a hand in the creation of this novel. At the end of it all, I find myself wondering, what was the point?

And not even in a fun way. 

One thing I think the author hara is right about, is the fact that Japan is so far behind the times when it comes to body positivity. A lot of her revelations and thought processes are revolutionary for Japanese culture but are just run-of-the mill American experiences. 

I wanted this story to be more impactful than it was. The art was cute, though! I loved seeing all the pretty girls. 

Do you ever pick up a book for casual reading, and then get hit directly in the face with the rawness of the human experience? It was just supposed to be a casual read, and now you're contemplating the entirety of the human condition?

The Spear Cuts Through Water is one of the best books I've ever read. It might even be the best. I don't even know right now, I need a minute to collect my thoughts. 

What makes this book so great is not only what it's about, but how it's told. The book is almost epistolary in nature, but instead of written letters, it's framed by stories. You embody the narrator, as he is told grand stories about the Old Country by his sharp-tounged lola. When I say embody, I mean this framing is written in the second person. You are the narrator, and he is the immigrant son of a merchant with nine brothers and a grandjo that never dies. As you grow up, and listen to these stories and sometimes tell them yourself, you are invited to the Inverted Theater in your dreams, a place your lola spoke of so wistfully. A place where stories are told, time is fluid, and the dream-selves from everywhere and everywhen commune. As you sit to watch the tale unfold, the five-day odyssey across the Old Country, you do so in the company of thousands of other dreamers. 

This book is not written in chapters, but is instead separated into the Five Days of the journey, as well as a Before and After section. But because it is also framed as a story being watched on a stage told by spirits, the spirits are a part of the story. When a character dies, usually their spirit will comment on their thoughts in their last moments—sometimes profound, painful, sometimes mundane. But you never really forget this is a story you are watching from the Inverted Theater, even as you become absorbed in the tale. It adds such an ethereal quality to the story, to hear the thoughts of the spirits about their lives as the story goes on... it's unreal. You really start to feel like you are in the Inverted Theater. 

As far as main characters go, I really loved both Jun and Keema, although I will admit Keema was my favorite. Both men are complicated, flawed, even contradictory at times, but oh-so-compelling to read. Their relationship to the world and to each other was so profound to watch unravel. Keema, with his missing arm, branded as a man of poor fortune discriminated against his whole life, is the last of his people. Jun, son of the Prince, has committed untold horrors in the name of the Moon Throne, has had his eyes opened to the error of his ways by the Moon Herself. Together, they must help the escaped empress reclaim Her place in the sky. 

As a staunch believer in populism, I really enjoyed Jimenez's perspective on religion and monarchy. Although this is a fantastical tale, it isn't necessarily religious. It takes the form of the familial stories that get passed down for generations. And yet the criticism is integral to the story. Even the "good" gods are harmful in all their actions. It's critical of power in all it's forms, and I enjoyed this, as most fantasy revolves around installing the "true king" or worshipping the "benevolent god" but Jiminez's narrative is focused on the People as a collective, and their wellbeing, and this I appreciated.

This book is very close to indescribable, and honestly, I could probably keep trying forever. But just know, you should read this book. It is just that fucking good. 

 5/5 holy fuck what did I just read I need a minute to compose myself stars 

While on vacation I finished my ARC of Translation State by Ann Leckie. Again, I’m late to the game because Leckie is clearly a master at her craft and I’ll be moving Ancillary Justice to the top of my TBR. 

This book is a fascinating mix of mystery, coming-of-age, political thriller and sci-fi epic. The three main characters, Enae a wealthy but downtrodden heiress whose evil grandma didn’t leave sir anything when she died, Reet a gruff mechanic who is desperately searching for some proof of his genetic background to explain why he has cannibalistic tendencies, and Qven a Presger Translator, a being designed by the mysterious Presger species to mediate with the humans on their behalf.

As all three of these characters move along their journeys, they become entangled in increasingly interesting and complicated ways. As a character, Enae annoyed me a little. Sie felt like sie didn’t have a backbone and just let things happen to her. On the other hand I resonated with her. Sometimes I feel like I get steamrolled by my family.

Leckie is able to craft a mystery that is so interesting, and she does it so well. Pretty early on it is clear to the reader, who gets multiple points of view, what is happening to Reet. But this doesn’t detract from the mystery: it’s a reward for paying attention. Leckie leaves you breadcrumbs to follow to ponder how you will.

The heart of this novel is personhood and identity. Reet isn’t who he thought he is. And Presger Translators must merge with another to become Adults, and Qven, new to the world and kept in the dark, isn’t sure e wants that. Being unsure is not Optimal Behavior and could result in em being “discarded”.  Each of them wants diplomatic immunity from being forced to match by declaring themselves human. But are they? An interesting question to ponder, and Leckie does it very well.

From what I understand, this novel takes place in the same universe as her other books. I very much look forward to getting to know this universe. It’s diverse and complicated and this one book barely scratched the surface. And I hope I’ll get to meet some of these characters again.

Side note: from now on I will only read science fiction authors who understand gender as we view it now is an outdated human construct and build that into their universes. 

5/5 two bodies-one-person stars

 Recently I had an existential crisis because I was worried that romance just wasn’t for me. This came on the heels of reading a romance novel and being more concerned about the labor rights of the minor characters than the romance or the plot. King of Immortal Tithe by Ben Alderson was everything I wanted it to be, and it proved me wrong. I have been in the mood for a romance novel, and Alderson delivered.

Despite my professed hatred for the trope, this story is a “retelling” of the Hades/Persephone myth but make it gay. I think the only reason I enjoyed it so much was the fact that it really was nothing at all like the Hades/Persephone myth (canon or fanon) except Faenir is the elf of death? god of death? idk unclear, and there was a sex scene that involved pomegranates. So basically, nothing at all like the Greek myth.

The plot is layered and interesting. The book opens with our main character, Arlo going out into the world and killing a vampire for its blood. He has a terminal illness and vampire blood is the only thing keeping him alive. This is a secret. On the other hand we have Faenir, death king, whose evil grandma is making him do a “Choosing” except everything he touches dies so instead of “Choosing” a mate he will be killing a human which will lead them to war. When Arlo stops Faenir from choosing his sister by TOUCHING him and does not die, our fateful love story begins. There’s misunderstandings and murder attempts, and angst because even when Arlo falls in love with Faenir, he does not tell him about his terminal illness. It was really nice when the romance part actually started about halfway through the book.

The sex scenes were spicy, although probably not as spicy as some of you more hardened romance readers like, but I did blush. And clearly the author has a spit kink because these men need to learn about proper foreplay and the magical substance known as lube.

Arlo was a really fun MC. He is sassy, bratty, selfish. He has his motivations, and they are consistent. He also has a thing for stealing knives to threaten people with at random times and it felt like that vine with the kid and the mom where she’s like “what do you have?” and he yells “A KNIFE!!” before running away screaming with glee. That’s it, that’s Arlo. Faenir was a little less interesting. Gloomy and broody because he’s an ancient virgin who kills everything he touches including his own parents, he’s just kind of there to be the menacing service top. Didn’t really bother me.

The interesting thing with this one was the tone with which it ended. I would call it a tragedy? Almost a corruption arc? Because the main characters at the end, despite being together and achieving one of their goals have lost everything else? The only issue with that is I’m not sure that’s how the author intended it to read. It would be very interesting to explore that if he did.

All in all this was a really fun read, and it was just what I was wanting from a romance novel: gay, sexy, had a decent plot.

 bookshop.org ┃ local houston

★★★ THE ENDING WAS A BIT ASTONISHING BUT THE AUTHOR HAD TO END IT SOMEWHERE STARS 

 Reading this book is like getting repeatedly punched in the face. Dr. Gibson really knows what she is talking about. Not only does she spend time with cause and effect, the different types of emotionally immature adults, the different kinds of affected children, and common behavior patterns seen in both, as well as case studies from her own personal experiences, at its core this book is just compassionate. 

While I did see my parents hiding among these pages, I also saw myself. I found it incredibly helpful to do each of the exercises three times: one for my mother, one for my father, and one for me. Seeing yourself represented these ways isn't always a pleasant experience, but I hope it's a learning one. 

For anyone who felt lonely as a child, and maybe couldn't understand exactly why I'd recommend this book. It's highly insightful, extremely informative, and broken down into helpful chunks so it's very easy to get through. I'll probably buy my own copy and read it again. 

 This was a confusing story. I picked it up because I was in the mood for a romance, and this book has such little romance in it I was pretty confused, because there's not really a plot. The book blurb says its about a changeling named Saffron who wants to stay in the fairy world and needs a patron, so he makes a dark deal with a mysterious high fey. Then love, murder mystery, vague plot things in the background. 

The plot is nonsensical. Saffron is part of a subjugated class: human changelings are servants to fey. For some reason this takes place at a magical college/university, but classes, education, and why this particular institution even exists is not only irrelevant to the plot, but seems irrelevant to the world. It basically is just an excuse for young hot people to be around each other? There's mention of a single professor, but that, again, doesn't have anything to do with the plot.

The way changelings are treated also makes no sense for this "romance" plot. Saffron is subjugated to slave-like conditions, extreme cruelty and indifference. At one point he is tortured and forcibly tattooed for... crying when his friend is murdered? It doesn't make sense but it doesn't have to. Cylvian is supposed to be the Crown Prince. Somehow he seems unaware of the cruelty all the changelings face, even though he himself treats Saffron with that same cruelty. Nor does he ever seem to care about the system that allows these horrors to exist in the first place. 

Even their first meeting. Cylvian tells Saffron his True Name, the name that can compel him to do anything, literally on a whim. His excuse is he is trying to see if this enchanted ring will remove the power from his True Name, and to do that he tells his True Name to a random stranger. There seems to be many flaws in this plan. Despite being the Crown Prince, despite being a powerful magic-user, despite being well-versed in mystical arts that are taboo to other high fey, Saffron still ends up being the one with the... I hesitate to call it "agency." Cylvian is trapped in a loveless engagement and is confined to his house, so despite being beaten multiple times, getting sick enough to warrant the equivalent of a hospital stay, doing hard labor every day, Saffron is still somehow the one who is meant to save Cylvian. In my humble opinion, Cylvian should save himself and Saffron should be more concerned with labor rights but that wouldn't be much of a romance novel. It still might be more of a romance novel than this version of Prince of the Sorrows though. 

Overall, I would say this book isn't fantasy enough to be a fantasy book and not romantic enough to be a romance book. The singular sex scene was extremely vague (maybe because Saffron is trans? I have a feeling that the author wanted to keep Saffron's specific plumbing vague, but it definitely felt like a barrier to overcome in the sex scene rather than a regular part of life).  Cylvian is inscrutable as a character. There is no real reason he goes from torturing Saffron to loving him, other that just proximity. And proximity is just fine for a regular romance novel, but this is a novel showcasing extreme class difference to the point of indentured servant x royal. You can't ignore that. 

Anyways, this was a confusing read. The plot was kind of all over the place, although I did enjoy Saffron's dramatique brief stint as a ghost. But it didn't deliver for me in either the fantasy or romance realms. 

This book perfectly encapsulates the danger of writing prequel series. And although I will be the first to tell you that I believe collaborative storytelling is the next major frontier, Cataclysm manages to make every mistake possible to make when being a part of an endeavor like this. 

This book is just... bad. There's no other way to put it. It's heartbreaking to be a Star Wars fan, particularly someone who loves the High Republic era and get this as an offering. 

Where to even begin... Let's start with inconsistent characterization. Gella, the independent Wayseeker in Convergence is nowhere to be seen. In her place is a simpering idiot who makes every mistake in the book, is manipulated at every turn, and worst of all gets her partner killed. Why? Oh, because Axel Greylark is pretty, of course. 

In case you're not fully up to date, in the first installment, tenuous interplanetary negotiations keep getting sabotaged at every turn, things go horribly awry, and thousands of innocent people die. The main cast discovers that it is Axel Greylark, hiding among them, who is responsible for this, and he is sent to prison. 

If I ever read the phrase "she had to clear her head" or "she tried to focus" because apparently just being in the presence of a single (1) bourgeoisie mass murderer who is a bit pretty is enough to rattle Gella to her core. Seriously. This is a major plot point. Part of me genuinely wonders if Lydia Kang was chosen for this installment specifically to fend off accusations of sexism. The misogyny in the Star Wars fandom is already so prevalent, this honestly felt like a kick in the teeth. Especially because there are absolutely no other relationships that Gella holds as dear, even ones she's had for far longer--even ones that are more meaningful (I'm basing this on the fact that her attachment to Axel is based on the events of the first book, and he never said a true thing in that book, ergo her affections are based on a lie). When she gets a mentor in the form of a senior Jedi, who gently tries to prod her away from succumbing to her emotions, she goes around and immediately gets him killed. This does not affect Gella for more than 3 paragraphs. Meanwhile the only person she sheds tears for the entire novel is Axel Greylark, who, at the end of all this, must carry out his actual prison sentence. He gets tears, but Master Orin Dargha, killed by Axel Greylark, does not. 

If you couldn't already catch on, this is an Axel Greylark hate account. There is absolutely nothing wrong with his character, I don't mind evil characters. It's the fact that he is narratively wasted. I was hoping for this book to be a corruption arc so desperately, but I could tell how much Kang wanted us to like him just because. Despite being a coward, despite getting people killed through inaction, and directly through his own actions, despite causing the deaths of thousands of innocents, Axel Greylark is narratively redeemed because he gets injured in battle and goes to jail at the end. Now first let's talk about the injured thing. This book was so hard to read because for some reason Axel is favored  by the writer. Here is a list of things he somehow survives: getting blown up hard enough he goes unconscious, shrapnel to the chest (which he pulls out), a lightsaber slice to his shoulder that somehow didn't cut off his arm, strangulation, and drowning. This is all within hours of each other with no medical attention in between.  Then when he switches back to being a "good guy" (I use the term loosely) it's because, and I am not joking, when the cultists he killed Orin for realize he's useless they make him do grunt work instead of being a Leader, and he doesn't like doing the grunt work. This man is selfish to his core. I thought for sure he would die in the battle in some bullshit Anakin-esque move that would "redeem him" because he made one right choice at the end of a decade of truly terrible choices, which I was going to roll my eyes at. But no! Not only does he survive, he gets to go to cushy white-collar criminal prison at the end of the book, and THAT is supposed to be enough. I want to throw him off a bridge. 

Then came all the narrative blunders. The tension in the Eiram and E'ronoh and the not-so-subtle hints in the first book that the leaders were being manipulated into war, yes, but that manipulation was easy because of the old and set ways of their respective rulers, which is what Xiri and Phan-tu were supposed to mirror in the younger generation that solves it, but the politics of the first book are completely erased in this one. There is no resolution to this plot point, just a quick scene of a new treaty being signed in the postscript. 

Another is Binnot Ullo, the orphaned street rat taken in by the Path who befriends the aristocrat Axel as a child. Where Axel literally has everything, and his entire selfish motivations stem from "my mom doesn't pay enough attention to me and I'm sad my dad's dead" while being lavished in every whim he could think of, Binnot had to earn his way his entire life. And while Binnot's story is truly a tragedy: an orphaned child with no family taken in by a Force-user hating cult. He has to suppress his Force abilities his entire life, because if he makes a slip the people around him will kill him. No, we can't be sympathetic to him, what about Axel! Binnot's death would have been so poetic if he was killed by a Force eating beast. In his last moments, he would be forced to confront his own  hypocrisy and discordant world view. He would be forced to acknowledge the people he considered family--in his messed up sort of way--would throw him away in an instant. Narratively, we would understand that the "weapon" meant to kill Jedi has been unleashed, but anyone could fall victim.  But we don't get any of that. Why? Because Axel needed to look cool. Axel kicks Binnot so that he... accidentally strangles himself with his poison glove? It seriously makes no sense. Binnot has a glove with retractable needles in the fingertips. He is reaching for Axel. Axel kicks his hand. Now, in my mind the needles are still facing away from Binnot's body, he was reaching out to use them against someone else. That does not explain how his own hand got around his neck after a single kick. I digress. 

Now for the weird continuity things. Kang introduces another of Yoda's species, a female little green alien, who I kid you not, is named Master Yaddle. The weirdest part is: Yoda still talks like Yoda in this timeline, hundreds of years before the movies, but Yaddle talks like everybody else. I was hoping it would just be a cool linguistic quirk of the species but if Yaddle speaks normally, then Yoda's famous form of speech is... because he's just Like That.  What?! Also, we know from the Mandalorian that there are more of Yoda's species, but Yaddle's presence is just baffling. There's no real point to it, besides the interesting tidbit she is also a caretaker of younglings. Honestly the whole time I was thinking of thee 1980 Empire Strikes Back puppet with a red wig on. 

The whole point of Phase II was supposed to be an exploration of how and why Marchion Ro came to lead the Nihil and shed more light on their intentions in Phase III. Because Phase II takes place two hundred years before Phase I, it's like going back in time from going back in time. In Phase I we were introduced to this incredible weapon that turned Jedi into husks (Bell Zettifar, my boy, needs so much therapy). This same weapon is in Phase II HUNDREDS OF YEARS BEFORE PHASE I, and how does Kang explain why Jedi hundreds of years later fight the same enemy and have them still not know anything about it? The LAST SCENE OF THE BOOK is Yoda and Creighton Sun decide to just not talk about it until they "know more." 

WHAT. You mean Loden Greatstorm died because Yoda JUST FORGOT TO MENTION the Force-eating monsters?! It's inconceivable. It's laughable. I just imagine Yoda going "Oh ya. Those guys. Bad news, they are." Because the book ends where it does, there's no investigation into these monsters, and we've already read Phase I in which they are a surprise, so we can surmise as the audience that, yeah. Yoda just forgot about the Force-eating monsters, after he and another Jedi decided to keep them a secret (despite multiple other Jedi coming face-to-face with them so literally how is it a secret between just them two?) and decide NOT TO KEEP ANY RECORD OF THE FORCE EATING MONSTERS and just NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS?!

Also, this duology really revealed absolutely nothing about the Nihil, Marchion Ro, or anything super relevant to Phase I. I am left thinking "what was the point of all this needless misogyny?!" IT WAS ALL FOR NOTHING?!  WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS?!

Honestly. This  book is terrible. Just so bad. Poorly written, nonsensical plot, lack of continuity, and no clear purpose. At this point my recommendation is you can skip Phase II entirely.

1/5 don't waste your time on this mess star