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Genre: Science Fiction, Fantasy, Space Opera

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Rating: 5/5.

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“Well, here I am, you deviant bitch. Here I bloody am. The motherfucking consequence.”

Dark Age, the fifth installment of the Red Rising saga, takes no chances: it presents a violent theatric that breams with the idea that perhaps a society must die for it to be reborn. 

Ever since I read Red Rising for the first time, I’ve been quite involved in the discussions of the series online. Probably not the best decision if I had wanted to avoid spoilers, I know. But I found myself honestly grateful I was aware of a couple of things about the book before I picked it up. I do not if I would’ve survived the journey otherwise. The narrative was too exciting, too… much that I’m glad I had an idea on what to expect. 

You might remember my critique of Iron Gold: it was perhaps too slow, too much foundation and not enough building, for an entire book devoted to its narrative. My opinions haven’t changed in that regard, but I do admit that Dark Ages made me see it in a slightly different light. Because I couldn’t help but think that considering the behemoth of a story this is, the character and story moments wouldn’t have been as meaningful if not for the build-up leading up to them. While I still don’t love Iron Gold’s imperfect progression, I now respect Brown’s ability to recognize the importance of creating a story from the ground up. Afterall, it set up things that were so integral to Dark Age. 

“Life is meant to be felt. Else why live? Valleys make the mountains.”

It’s an understatement to say that some crazy things happen in this book. It’s quite literally the dark ages for our characters. There is nothing that can prepare for the violent, senseless theatrics you experience. Even I, who knew a couple of things,  had to close the book a couple of times because I was terrified of what the next page would entail. Because Brown does not try to censor the realities of war one bit. Characters die. They are tortured, kidnapped, stripped off their very freedom and dignity. While I hated reading about their struggles sometimes, it was a reminder that war, especially one as big and ambitious as Darrow’s, is not pretty. Far from it. 

“The tragedy of the gifted is the belief they are entitled to greatness, Lysander. As a human, you are entitled only to death.”

Brown truly mastered how to keep the readers on their toes, from the Day of Red Doves to the tree (iykyk). While there had been similar moments before, it seemed like he had complete and utter control of screwing the readers over in this book (just kidding). Take Sefi, for example. I do not want to get into specifics, but I found it so devastating how her demise was portrayed; here is a warrior and leader who only wants the best for her people, a group that has been violated over and over again. And war has decided that she can’t achieve her one goal of providing them a haven, a place they could live and thrive. It was just so heartbreaking, and saddening, to see such a realistic picture of what true bravery and humanity looks like in the face of faceless violence. 

Now, you might be confused. Did I like the book? Well, yes. Despite being over 800 pages, I carved time out of school to read it, a testament to how much of an engaging whirlwind it was as a whole. This book was one of the most extensive narratives of death, conflict, and plotting that I absolutely fell in love with. So yes, I liked the book, in the best way possible. 5/5.

“But the measure of a man is not the fear he sows in his enemies. It is the hope he gives his friends.”