Golden Son was better but as the middle story of the trilogy it was a bridge that went nowhere ending with a cliffhanger. Red Rising was good but I felt that it contained a few standard YA tropes that forced me to keep my distance. As this series has gone on I have found myself more and more invested in it. For the most part, the two books stay in their assigned places but occasionally one of the two books will grab my attention and cause me to listen to it continuously across both activities. I usually have 2 audiobooks going at once since I listen to one book while commuting and another while running. Watching gladiators battle in space is always good for a bit of blood and even made me forget Trump for a couple minutes every day. It is SciFi bread and circuses, and I guess that is fine for a couple days. I know I'm probably taking this review and the whole series way more serious than I need too. When Brown writes about death, it feels like a teenager writing about sex or a white man writing about racism. His prose lacks the gravitas to REALLY pull off suffering. Brown can write about death and suffering and still make it feel warm and sunny. Not everyone can write with the messy heart of Philip K Dick or the control of Dan Simmons. When I remember they are written more for my teenage kids, I am more forgiving. It was written to sell, too option, and yes read, but not to feed or inspire. It was written to be a large-budget movie more than a novel. His weaknesses is he sometimes runs into SciFi cliche, his plots are fairly predictable, and the whole set-up is far too clean.
I think the strength of Brown is his characters and his occasionally artful phrase. It is a steroid Space Opera with the subtlety of a freight train filled with frat boys. He's aiming for movie rights, readers, and finds an unplowed row between Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, Divergent, Star Wars, and Game of Thrones. Pierce Brown isn't aiming for great SciFi lit. This isn't Isaac Asimov or Philip K Dick. And, sometimes, what you want is popcorn with butter. Persian Mystic Poem Not great, but good enough. Split the atom's heart, and lo! Within it thou wilt find a sun.
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