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sandygx260's review against another edition
4.0
This is book one on more serious hallucinogenics. Crazy stuff.
primereads's review against another edition
adventurous
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Again. Did I like it? Not sure. Will o read the last book? Eh. Probably.
imkidson's review against another edition
2.0
Beautiful prose and fascinating concept/setting but the plot is a mess and all the characters are inherently unlikable
kentcryptid's review against another edition
4.0
Mostly pretty compelling, and introduces a couple of intriguing new characters. It also genuinely made me care about Chess, and considering what a murderous loose cannon he is, that's quite a feat. The over-long magical battles could use an edit, though.
codalion's review against another edition
2.0
I misplaced this mid-read and can't say I'm missing it much. I feel like I'd like these better if they busted out of their awkward, badly plotted cocoons and became the beautiful trashy gay bodice ripping butterflies they were meant to be.
emilyrpf's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
the_novel_approach's review against another edition
5.0
In the Dedication section of Gemma Files’ A Rope of Thorns, the author gives thanks to a man named Steve, “who is the absolute best support a writer of ‘repulsive trash’ could ask for.” Editor, publisher, agent, significant other? I have no idea who Steve is, but one can only assume the “repulsive trash” comment was pulled from a review of the first book in this series, A Book of Tongues. And I have just one thing to say about the commentary: Halle-freaking-lujah for repulsive trash, man. Because you know what they say about one man’s trash being another’s treasure? This series is a gold mine of dextrous storytelling and lush prose and brilliant characterization that I’m so thankful I unearthed.
The best way to describe The Hexslinger saga is to equate it thusly: it’s like waking up from a dream that you can’t quite recall all the details of, but there’s one thing you do recollect with perfect clarity upon waking—it was really, really weird. I don’t at all fault the author’s plot-weaving skills for this conundrum as much as I do my simple inability to process the unorthodoxy of the story in its entirety just yet, as well as the subtle intricacies of its foreshadowing and the fusion of mythologies. Set in a 19th Century Wild West that’s made wilder, not to mention otherworldly, by the magic that runs rife within its borders, the story of Chess Pargeter, the Reverend Asher Rook, and every other character who is directly or indirectly associated with them, is at once complex yet stunningly simple. The simplicity comes in the avaricious betrayal. The complexity comes in the gods and goddesses, the hexslinging, and the relationships forged between allies and enemies and those to whom each role player chooses to pledge their allegiance.
A Rope of Thorns picks up directly where A Book of Tongues left off. Asher Rook has brutally betrayed the man he professed to love, aligning himself with the goddess Ixchel in exchange for the power that comes with godhood. Whore’s beget and all around prickly sumbitch, Chess Pargeter, the man whose heart Rook stole—in the most literal sense—was resurrected into something “other” after being rescued from Hell—in the most literal sense—by ex Pinkerton agent cum straight but bi-for-Chess cum friend-with-benefits sidekick, Edward Morrow. Now Chess is out for revenge, and, as one might expect from someone like the flame-haired and sharp tongued hexslinger, he’s made more than enough enemies in his short life that he’s got some formidable foes out to wreak their own vengeance upon him. Where Chess goes, chaos follows in his wake. Fortunately, however, he’s managed to make some allies too, and it’s these relationships that are the highlight of this novel.
Sheriff Mesach Love, late of the former town of Bewelcome—I say “former” because the entire town and all its inhabitants were turned to salt in book one—was resurrected by the Enemy (with a capital E because he is the Enemy). Love is now bent upon exacting a price from Chess (and oh, how much do I love the layered nuances of that statement?). That price being Chess’s destruction. When Chess and Ed descend upon the town of Hoffstedt’s Hoard, bringing Love’s wrath down upon it, one of my now favorite characters in the series, Experiance “Yancey” Kloves (née Colder)—recently newlywed and just as quickly widowed—is introduced. I absolutely adored Yancey for her intelligence and pragmatism and courage. Not to mention that she carries a touch of magic all her own. As the storyline moves forward, she will remain an integral cog in the God Machine, not to mention an interesting part of Ed’s life. What remains to be seen is how, or if, Chess will play into this dynamic since he went and made a sacrifice of himself… I think my highlight notes sum things up best: “Ugh,” “Nope,” and “Oooooh shit! What???!!!” I may have even tried to shed a tear or two as well, so there you go.
In a climactic scene that reads like part Gunfight at the O.K. Corral and part Armageddon with a dash of blood magick thrown in, everything is madness and mayhem. Chinese mysticism, Native American Spiritualism, Christian…ish Ideology, Ancient Mayan and Aztec Mythology; this series is such a mixed bag of -ologies and -isms that it’s difficult to summarize them in a review, but they all meld together under the umbrella of hexslinging and the phenomenal world building Gemma Files is holding forth in this series. Her sentences and paragraphs are big and chunky and fecund with imagery—it’s scenes such as this that I just want to wallow in:
“And now, eking through that stinking yellow fog he’d thought was just his eyes, a whole city street arrived: buildings dilapidated and promiscuously overhung, jammed hugger-mugger as a junk fiend’s teeth. Half-glazed cataract windows staring down, where they hadn’t been shattered wholesale; stagnant gutters and hinge-fallen doors; a sketchy crush of humanity loitering or roaming, wreathed in grime, ignoring Chess in the grip of their squalor. Raggedy skeleton children ran free as roaches, relieving themselves indiscriminately.
‘I know this place,’ Chess realized, a slow hollow birthing itself in his gullet’s lower-most pit.”
And reading that scene, I felt I knew it too, if only in my imagination. And that whore I mentioned earlier? That’d be English Oona Pargeter, the woman who unhappily brought a misbegotten Chess into this world, and this is her world we’ve now entered. The great unknown is how it plays into the third and final novel in this trilogy.
I love everything about this series so far, all the way down to its freak-a-delic mindbending core. I love the existence of Allan Pinkerton and his detective agency—along with the fracturing of Pinkerton as character in the series, as well as discovering that Frank Geyer, an agent introduced in this installment, was an actual Pinkerton detective. Although I’m sure his real job was neither as interesting nor as dangerous as his association with Chess Pargeter has been in this fiction.
Just like the Western serials of old, you’ll have to tune in next time for the further adventures of the Rev and his hellspawn-goddess wife, Chess, Ed, Yancey and the rest of this vast cast of characters—both human and not. What happens next remains to be seen, but I can guarantee it won’t be any kind of normal.
Reviewed by Lisa for The Novel Approach Reviews
The best way to describe The Hexslinger saga is to equate it thusly: it’s like waking up from a dream that you can’t quite recall all the details of, but there’s one thing you do recollect with perfect clarity upon waking—it was really, really weird. I don’t at all fault the author’s plot-weaving skills for this conundrum as much as I do my simple inability to process the unorthodoxy of the story in its entirety just yet, as well as the subtle intricacies of its foreshadowing and the fusion of mythologies. Set in a 19th Century Wild West that’s made wilder, not to mention otherworldly, by the magic that runs rife within its borders, the story of Chess Pargeter, the Reverend Asher Rook, and every other character who is directly or indirectly associated with them, is at once complex yet stunningly simple. The simplicity comes in the avaricious betrayal. The complexity comes in the gods and goddesses, the hexslinging, and the relationships forged between allies and enemies and those to whom each role player chooses to pledge their allegiance.
A Rope of Thorns picks up directly where A Book of Tongues left off. Asher Rook has brutally betrayed the man he professed to love, aligning himself with the goddess Ixchel in exchange for the power that comes with godhood. Whore’s beget and all around prickly sumbitch, Chess Pargeter, the man whose heart Rook stole—in the most literal sense—was resurrected into something “other” after being rescued from Hell—in the most literal sense—by ex Pinkerton agent cum straight but bi-for-Chess cum friend-with-benefits sidekick, Edward Morrow. Now Chess is out for revenge, and, as one might expect from someone like the flame-haired and sharp tongued hexslinger, he’s made more than enough enemies in his short life that he’s got some formidable foes out to wreak their own vengeance upon him. Where Chess goes, chaos follows in his wake. Fortunately, however, he’s managed to make some allies too, and it’s these relationships that are the highlight of this novel.
Sheriff Mesach Love, late of the former town of Bewelcome—I say “former” because the entire town and all its inhabitants were turned to salt in book one—was resurrected by the Enemy (with a capital E because he is the Enemy). Love is now bent upon exacting a price from Chess (and oh, how much do I love the layered nuances of that statement?). That price being Chess’s destruction. When Chess and Ed descend upon the town of Hoffstedt’s Hoard, bringing Love’s wrath down upon it, one of my now favorite characters in the series, Experiance “Yancey” Kloves (née Colder)—recently newlywed and just as quickly widowed—is introduced. I absolutely adored Yancey for her intelligence and pragmatism and courage. Not to mention that she carries a touch of magic all her own. As the storyline moves forward, she will remain an integral cog in the God Machine, not to mention an interesting part of Ed’s life. What remains to be seen is how, or if, Chess will play into this dynamic since he went and made a sacrifice of himself… I think my highlight notes sum things up best: “Ugh,” “Nope,” and “Oooooh shit! What???!!!” I may have even tried to shed a tear or two as well, so there you go.
In a climactic scene that reads like part Gunfight at the O.K. Corral and part Armageddon with a dash of blood magick thrown in, everything is madness and mayhem. Chinese mysticism, Native American Spiritualism, Christian…ish Ideology, Ancient Mayan and Aztec Mythology; this series is such a mixed bag of -ologies and -isms that it’s difficult to summarize them in a review, but they all meld together under the umbrella of hexslinging and the phenomenal world building Gemma Files is holding forth in this series. Her sentences and paragraphs are big and chunky and fecund with imagery—it’s scenes such as this that I just want to wallow in:
“And now, eking through that stinking yellow fog he’d thought was just his eyes, a whole city street arrived: buildings dilapidated and promiscuously overhung, jammed hugger-mugger as a junk fiend’s teeth. Half-glazed cataract windows staring down, where they hadn’t been shattered wholesale; stagnant gutters and hinge-fallen doors; a sketchy crush of humanity loitering or roaming, wreathed in grime, ignoring Chess in the grip of their squalor. Raggedy skeleton children ran free as roaches, relieving themselves indiscriminately.
‘I know this place,’ Chess realized, a slow hollow birthing itself in his gullet’s lower-most pit.”
And reading that scene, I felt I knew it too, if only in my imagination. And that whore I mentioned earlier? That’d be English Oona Pargeter, the woman who unhappily brought a misbegotten Chess into this world, and this is her world we’ve now entered. The great unknown is how it plays into the third and final novel in this trilogy.
I love everything about this series so far, all the way down to its freak-a-delic mindbending core. I love the existence of Allan Pinkerton and his detective agency—along with the fracturing of Pinkerton as character in the series, as well as discovering that Frank Geyer, an agent introduced in this installment, was an actual Pinkerton detective. Although I’m sure his real job was neither as interesting nor as dangerous as his association with Chess Pargeter has been in this fiction.
Just like the Western serials of old, you’ll have to tune in next time for the further adventures of the Rev and his hellspawn-goddess wife, Chess, Ed, Yancey and the rest of this vast cast of characters—both human and not. What happens next remains to be seen, but I can guarantee it won’t be any kind of normal.
Reviewed by Lisa for The Novel Approach Reviews
andreablythe's review against another edition
4.0
A Rope of Thorns is book two in a trilogy, so if you don't want any spoilers, I suggest you stop reading and go devour A Book of Tongues first.
Book two has Reverend Rook and his Lady Ixchel constructing "Hex City," built on blood and carnage, but also the only place where hexes can live in peace with one another. Meanwhile, Chess, the red-headed little man of grit and violence, barely in control of his new abilities, seeks his revenge against his former lover, Rook, while avoiding the attacks of angry hexes, Pinkerton agents, and other darker creatures, with Ed Morrow along for the ride.
As the middle book in the trilogy, A Rope of Thorns widens the the scope of the story, interweaving new characters and plotlines into Gemma Files' vision of a blood soaked west.
As always, violence follows Chess wherever he goes, as well as a strange new red weed that is spreading through the desert in the wake of his footsteps. But Chess has changed. He still laughs at the world and it's brutal misery, but his laughter is more bitter and without glee. The unfolding of Chess's character that began in the first book, continues in the second. His layers are stripped away and the profoundly human that lays at his core is unveiled. I'd be madly in love with him, if it weren't for the fact that he is fictional, gay, and unlikely to take my affection kindly.
The addition of Yancey Colder into the story is wonderfully refreshing. She's a spiritualist with her own unique power and is drawn into Chess's circle of violence. She's a strong female character, one who knows how to act quickly and smartly in the face of threat, and who manages not to be crushed under the weight of disaster that transpires.
Morrow, too. I find I'm even more fond of him in this book, because for all that happens, he stays loyal and true to his friend, Chess. He's a good brave man, who knows that justice isn't always what's written down in legislature books.
Most every one is given a wider breadth in this one, though the Gods that are playing board games with the world remain somewhat one-dimensional. Though, as they are far from human, I suppose that's to be expected.
Like the first book, there's plenty of sex and gore in gripping, graphic detail, and the story moves along at a fast pace. I'm looking forward to reading the final book, A Tree of Bones. Based on the ending of book two, I can't even imagine the carnage that's going to take place then.
Book two has Reverend Rook and his Lady Ixchel constructing "Hex City," built on blood and carnage, but also the only place where hexes can live in peace with one another. Meanwhile, Chess, the red-headed little man of grit and violence, barely in control of his new abilities, seeks his revenge against his former lover, Rook, while avoiding the attacks of angry hexes, Pinkerton agents, and other darker creatures, with Ed Morrow along for the ride.
As the middle book in the trilogy, A Rope of Thorns widens the the scope of the story, interweaving new characters and plotlines into Gemma Files' vision of a blood soaked west.
As always, violence follows Chess wherever he goes, as well as a strange new red weed that is spreading through the desert in the wake of his footsteps. But Chess has changed. He still laughs at the world and it's brutal misery, but his laughter is more bitter and without glee. The unfolding of Chess's character that began in the first book, continues in the second. His layers are stripped away and the profoundly human that lays at his core is unveiled. I'd be madly in love with him, if it weren't for the fact that he is fictional, gay, and unlikely to take my affection kindly.
The addition of Yancey Colder into the story is wonderfully refreshing. She's a spiritualist with her own unique power and is drawn into Chess's circle of violence. She's a strong female character, one who knows how to act quickly and smartly in the face of threat, and who manages not to be crushed under the weight of disaster that transpires.
Morrow, too. I find I'm even more fond of him in this book, because for all that happens, he stays loyal and true to his friend, Chess. He's a good brave man, who knows that justice isn't always what's written down in legislature books.
Most every one is given a wider breadth in this one, though the Gods that are playing board games with the world remain somewhat one-dimensional. Though, as they are far from human, I suppose that's to be expected.
Like the first book, there's plenty of sex and gore in gripping, graphic detail, and the story moves along at a fast pace. I'm looking forward to reading the final book, A Tree of Bones. Based on the ending of book two, I can't even imagine the carnage that's going to take place then.
the_original_shelf_monkey's review
5.0
After the vicious Book of Tongues, Rope is a true middle chapter, as our heroes (?) wander on their quest, vanquishing foes while incrementally getting closer to their goal. What that goal is, is in some doubt, as Chess—as violent and psychotic a protagonist as there has ever been— actually grows as a character, learning the limits of his power and actually evolving into something far more interesting. He starts Rope looking purely for revenge, but as Chess becomes more self-aware, he begins to see his place in the world, and understands the concepts of consequences and fate. If Chess had simply remained a remorseless stone-cold killer, Rope would still have been entertaining, but this stab at personal growth, Chess' actual attainment of empathy, is what allows the narrative to grow accordingly. There is still all the frank intergender sex of the first, but Files has leavened the outrageousness of the first through a deepening of the bonds between the leads. Chess and Ed may not become the next Frodo and Sam, but their quest is just as dangerous, and unlike those lovable hobbits, there is no doubt on the subject of homoeroticism.
Where is Files going with all this? I cannot tell, except that the finale will no doubt be apocalyptic in scope, a battle which will make Harry Potter's last stand at Hogwarts seem a slap fight between fifth graders.
Read the rest of the review here.
Where is Files going with all this? I cannot tell, except that the finale will no doubt be apocalyptic in scope, a battle which will make Harry Potter's last stand at Hogwarts seem a slap fight between fifth graders.
Read the rest of the review here.