Back Cover Blurb:
The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around—and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly. Since he was five years old he’s been obsessed with the mythic lost city of Weep, but it would take someone bolder than he to cross half the world in search of it. Then a stunning opportunity presents itself, in the person of a hero called the Godslayer and a band of legendary warriors, and he has to seize his chance or lose his dream forever.
What happened in Weep two hundred years ago to cut it off from the rest of the world? What exactly did the Godslayer slay that went by the name of god? And what is the mysterious problem he now seeks help in solving?
The answers await in Weep, but so do more mysteries—including the blue-skinned goddess who appears in Lazlo’s dreams. How did he dream her before he knew she existed? And if all the gods are dead, why does she seem so real?
Welcome to Weep.
What I loved about this book:
The most beautiful, poetic world and character building I have ever seen. *DROOL* Oh my gosh– #writergoalsnojoke Absolutely devastating and rich and vivid. The world was amazingly unique, brilliant, breathtaking, and seeing everything through Laslo’s eyes for the first time was my favorite. This story was masterfully planned and masterfully rendered; the characters were deep and wide, and Laslo and Sarai and their co-stars are still taking residence in my brain. Laini Taylor wove the intricacies of love and hate and revenge and mercy with a brilliance I’ve never had the privilege of reading. WOW. I had to stop after almost every chapter just to savor the beauty of her writing. Seriously.
You just have to read the story. Almost everything was magnifique. I don't want to talk about it much because YOU need to adventure into the folds of this otherworldly realm with Lazlo.
What I didn’t care for in this book:
Same-sex and unmarried sensuality. It was never explicit, but briefly mentioned or implied. Made it less perfect for me...boo. But I am glad that nothing was really described. It was alluded to and had fade-to-black/closed door scenes that avoided anything of a graphic nature.
Trigger warning: sexual assault/rape/abuse and revenge-murder themes within the story. Also raw violence and death. Recommend for mature readers (17+) Absolutely heartbreaking what the main characters have survived. I’d say it’s New Adult more than YA.
Even though there were things I did not like, I still plan on purchasing this book for writing reference and inspiration. :)
Excerpt:
What had happened? Did the city still exist? He wanted to know everything. He learned to coax Brother Cyrus into that place of reverie, and he collected the stories like treasure. Lazlo owned nothing, not one single thing, but from the first, the stories felt like his own hoard of gold.
The domes of the city, Brother Cyrus said, were all connected by silk ribbons, and children balanced upon them like tightrope walkers, dashing from palace to palace in capes of colored feathers. No doors were ever closed to them, and even the birdcages were open for birds to come and go as they pleased, and wondrous fruits grew everywhere, ripe for the plucking, and cakes were left out on window ledges, free for the taking.
Lazlo had never even seen cake, let alone tasted it, and he’d been whipped for eating windfall apples that were more worm than fruit. These visions of freedom and plenty bewitched him. Certainly, they distracted from spiritual contemplation, but in the same way that the sight of a shooting star distracts from the ache of an empty belly. They marked his first consideration that there might be other ways of living than the one he knew. Better, sweeter ways.
The streets of the city, Brother Cyrus said, were tiled with lapis lazuli and kept scrupulously clean so as not to soil the long, long hair the ladies wore loose and trailing behind them like bolts of blackest silk. Elegant white stags roamed the streets like citizens, and reptiles big as men drifted in the river. The first were spectrals, and the substance of their antlers–spectralys, or lys–was more precious than gold. The second were svytagors, whose pink blood was an elixir of immortality. There were ravids, too–great cats with fangs like scythes–and birds that mimicked human voices, and scorpions whose sting imparted superhuman strength.
And there were the Tizerkane warriors.
The wielded blades called hreshtek, sharp enough to slice a man off his shadow, and kept scorpions in brass cages hooked to their belts. Before battle, they would thrust a finger through a small opening to be stung, and under the influence of venom, they were unstoppable.
Pgs. 10-11
Stars:
7 out of 5 for craft,
3.5 for heavy themes and sensuality.
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