No longer is Brown looking to create simple entertainment; there is real intention and commentary to this new space opera, every single scene a testament to his ability to build off of an already existing foundation, and enhance it to greater heights. 

“Home isn’t where you’re from, it’s where you find light when all grows dark.”

It happens more often than one may think where a consecutive series of books don’t show consistent quality. Even if the first installment starts off strong, you notice noticeable dips in storytelling or worldbuilding in the sequels, and promises and expectations that had been lined out aren’t delivered. This problem stems from the innate difficulty in writing a fictional story in the first place. We always like to dwell in the elements, building the world, and fleshing out the beginning chapters of what will happen. Rarely do we get excited at putting a stop at our imagination, and commit to an ending. So many of the books I love, such as the Tower of Bible series, have had this flaw. 

But not Red Rising.

“I will die. You will die. We will all die and the universe will carry on without care. All that we have is that shout into the wind – how we live. How we go. And how we stand before we fall.”

Cause something that Golden Son proves so perfectly is Brown’s capacity as an author and worldbuilder to deliver payoffs. It’s an incredible step up from Red Rising, and yet that steep growth is all the more impressive by Brown’s delicate control. While RR heavily features your classic Young Adult drama and action, GS is aggressive in its violence, the characters and their depths nuanced and sometimes even deeply flawed. No longer is Brown looking for simple entertainment; there is real intention and commentary to this new space opera, and every single scene is a testament to his ability to build off of an already existing foundation, and enhance it to greater heights. 

And something that accompanies this change is a more graphic portrayal of violence and ruthlessness. While the first book had its own sizable share of bloodshed, it was still sugarcoated under the pretense of YA; the gruesome details were left out, and the vagueness allowed the readers to know what happened, while not feeling it emotionally. Golden Son has taken off that subtleness: Brown is not scared of showing what war really is like, in its true colors of human cruelty. People are tortured, beaten, taken captive, and harmed in every way imaginable. Sometimes, it can get a little gut-wrenching, how much us humans are capable of with a sword and a purpose to wield it. 

“Friendships take minutes to make, moments to break, years to repair.”

But to Darrow who faces an unprecedented challenge of toppling a centuries-old dynasty and hierarchy, this need for violence must be accepted. In GS, this weight on his shoulders has changed him from a clueless, carved Red to a steadfast and determined spy for the revolutionary movement. He makes friends and foes left and right, and he learns to maneuver not just soldiers in the battlefield, but also among political weaves in parties and behind locked doors. While he is not perfect, his simple capability is satisfying to witness, his success one step closer to delivering the rightful freedom for his people. 

The emotional currents are strong beneath all of this, the turmoil inevitable when Darrow cannot trust even his closest allies in the Gold society when he is hiding his true intentions and identity. His desire to serve Ares, the secret leader behind this ambitious plan, and to reveal his true self to his friends clashes consistently, resulting in a conflict greater than anyone could’ve expected. 

In conclusion, Golden Son is an energising and impressive sequel to Red Rising, fit for anyone looking for an action-packed roller coast ride with sprinkles of emotional and political elements in between. 5/5.

“It’s not victory that makes a man. It’s his defeats.”