After reading the Q & A included in the back of my book, though, it all started to make sense, and I wish I'd known before buying this stupid-ass book that it's inspired by DISNEY'S CINDERELLA, of all things. I know what you're thinking: Where the fridge tart does Cinderella come in? Isn't this story about, like, a TOUGH-AS-NAILS former-assassin-now-slave competing for her life in, like, the most badass tournament ever? Well ... actually, no. And I'm happy to spend the next few hours of my life quoting this most dumbass book if it means AT LEAST ONE PERSON might decide not to waste their money on it, no need to thank me.
'"Wake up." Not surprisingly, it was Chaol.
She shimmied beneath the blankets, pulling them over her head, but he grabbed the covers and threw them to the floor. Her nightgown was wrapped around her thighs. Celaena shivered.
"It's cold," she moaned, holding her knees to her body. She didn't care that she had only a few months to beat the other Champions - she needed sleep. [Nope, this isn't your bratty kid sister, but the most notorious assassin EVAH! You know, the one who - after slaving away in the salt mines for four months - was so desperate to escape that she even tried a mad suicide dash. What the hell, though; they're only offering her her freedom.] It would have been nice if the Crown Prince had considered springing her from Endovier earlier so she could have some time to regain her strength; how long had he known about this competition, anyway? [Sheesh. I know, right? Silly Crown Prince, not considering the feelings of, like, one of the most terrible criminals his men have ever captured. I mean, he gives you large, comfortable living quarters in his castle, a billiards table, a chance to change your life, even a puppy, and - what - he thinks this is enough?!]
"Get up." Chaol ripped the pillows from beneath her head. "Now you're wasting my time." If he noticed how much skin she was showing, he didn't react. [That wasn't irrelevant at all ... ]
Grumbling, Celaena slithered to the edge of the bed, dangling a hand over the edge to touch the floor. "Fetch my slippers," she mumbled. "The floor's like ice." [Yeah, put those servants in their place
From the doorway, Chaol asked, "Why, might I ask, are you so tired?"
She gulped down the rest of the pomegranate juice and wiped her mouth on a napkin. "I was up until four reading," she said.' [Why do you even have to ask, Chaol? It's only the start of the tournament of Celaena's life; of course she stayed up all night reading. SLEEP WHEN YOU'RE DEAD, YO!! If the competition barely merits any page time, why should the competitors actually give a shit about it?!]
'A few minutes later, Celaena frowned at herself as she hurried after the captain into the foyer. "I look ridiculous! These pants are absurd, and this shirt is awful."' [Way to be descriptive
'"You expect me to use a mace an hour after sunrise?"' [The horror!]
'She bit into an apple. It was tart, with a sweet, honey-like aftertaste. "Oh? And what books do you love?" He named a few, and she blinked. "Well, those are good choices - for the most part. What others?" she asked, and somehow, an hour flew by, carrying them on the wings of conversation.' [Jesus. This paragraph isn't a pointless waste of space at all.]
'There was something girlish about her, too. Oh, he couldn't stand her contradictions!' [INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS!!! Because *my* Chaol doesn't have a va-jay-jay ... ]
'Celaena bit down her laugh. Archery? It was an archery contest?' [Yeah, that was my reaction, too ... ]
'Pelor, the gangly assassin, wasn't yet strong enough to manage a longbow, and barely made any shots. When he finished, his eyes gleaming with resentment, the Champions sniggered, and Cain laughed the loudest.
Despite herself, Celaena felt badly for the boy. His shots hadn't been that bad.' [Yeesh! If barely making any shots isn't *that* bad, I can see how CINDERBRAT is the world's scariest assassin.]
'"Why would she kill me? I think she likes being pampered. [*snort*] If she hasn't attempted to escape or kill anyone, then why would she do it now?" He patted his friend on the shoulder. "You worry too much."' [ZOMG! U NVR HERD OF BIDING UR TIME B4? This Crown Prince is clearly not the brightest crayon in the box.]
'Sam. What would he make of all this?' [Since he's never been mentioned before, I really can't say. Sorry.]
'Dorian peeled himself from the wall. For all her assassinating experience, she didn't notice him until he sat down on the bench beside her.' [Yeah, I can see why she's Most Baddest Assassinator EVAH! And who glued you to the wall, anyway, Crown Douche Bag?]
'"No. I can survive well enough on my own - if given proper reading material."
He looked at the fire, trying not to think about where she'd been only weeks before - and what that kind of loneliness might have felt like. There were no books in Endovier.' [I find it hard to believe that loneliness is your biggest problem when you're a beautiful seventeen-year-old girl slaving away in a salt mine, but ... what do I know? A BOOK!! A BOOK!! MY KINGDOM FOR A BOOK!!!!]
'It wasn't until later that Philippa brought the news. The Champion who hadn't shown up for the Test had been found dead in a servant's stairwell, brutally mauled and dismembered.
The new murder cast a pall over the next two weeks, and the two Tests they brought with them. Celaena passed the Tests - stealth and tracking - without drawing much attention to herself or risking her neck to save anyone.' [When your plot's so boring that you're summarizing it all, you've got a problem ... ]
'He remained in the doorway, fearful that she'd wake up if he took another step. Some assassin. She hadn't even bothered to stir.' [I know, right? Also, you're a stalking stalker, Crown Douche Bag!]
'She smiled at the young chevaliers they passed - and smirked at the court women who eyed her pink-and-white gown. She couldn't blame them; the dress was spectacular. And she was spectacular in it.' [Bloody hell, you'd think a year of slavery would knock the vanity right out of a girl ... ]
'The assassin pivoted around the table and took aim again. She missed. Gritting her teeth, she considered snapping the cue in half across her knee. But she'd been attempting to play for only an hour. She'd be incredible by midnight! She'd master this ridiculous game or she'd turn the table into firewood.' [Now, now, CINDERBRAT. Temper tantrums are, like, so unbecoming.]
'"For the world's greatest assassin, this is pathetic," said Dorian, stepping from the doorway.' [Because assassins are widely known to be proficient at billiards. What, you didn't know??]
'She had often wished for adventure.' [If you spend seven years as an assassin and somehow manage not to stumble headfirst into all sorts of adventures, you're probably not doing it right.]
'So she'd cheated a little, but she'd won.' [LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, HOLD ON TO YOUR SEATS; WE'VE JUST HAD OUR FIRST GLIMPSE OF CELAENA ACTUALLY BEHAVING REMOTELY LIKE AN ASSASSIN!!!! And it's only page 240 ... ]
'It had been over three weeks since her last encounter with Elena, and she hadn't seen or heard her at all, despite the three Tests she'd had, the most exciting of which being an obstacle course, which she passed with only a few minor scratches and bruises. Unfortunately, Pelor hadn't done so well, and had been sent home at long last. But he'd been lucky: three other competitors had died. All found in forgotten [well, obviously not that forgotten] hallways; all mutilated beyond recognition.' [The plot overload! It's ... it's ... positively ... unbearable ... ]
'Amidst her worrying, another Test passed without incident or embarrassment - though she couldn't say the same for the soldier who'd been sent home - and she kept up her intense training with Chaol and the other Champions.' [WOW: So Much Story! How can I process it all?]
'"Candy!" A large paper bag sat on a pillow, and she found that it was filled with all sorts of confectionary goodies. There was no note, not even a name scribbled on the bag. With a shrug and glowing eyes, Celaena pulled out a handful of sweets. Oh, how she adored candy!
Celaena issued a jolly laugh and crammed some of the candy into her mouth.
"Someone," she said in between chews, "is very good to me."' [I just ... oh God ... I have no words! :D Cookie Monster strikes again?]
'"Of course I want her," Celaena said, then realized what the implications would be. "But I want her trained. I don't want her urinating on everything and chewing on furniture and shoes and books. And I want her to sit when I tell her to and lay down and roll over and whatever it is that dogs do. And I want her to run - run with the other dogs when they're practicing. I want her to put those long legs to use."
Dorian crossed his arms as Celaena scooped up the dog. "That's a long list of demands. Perhaps I should have bought you jewelry after all." [Hold your puppies, Dorian, CINDERDIVA STILL isn't done.]
"When I'm training" - she kissed the pup's soft head, and the dog nestled her cold nose against Celaena's neck - "I want her in the kennels, training as well. When I return in the afternoon, she may be brought to me. I'll keep her in the night." Celaena held the dog at eye level. The dog kicked her legs in the air. "If you ruin any of my shoes," she said to the pup, "I'll turn you into a pair of slippers. Understood?"' [Jesus Christ. Is it bad that what *I* want is for someone to rend Celaena limb from limb? And why does she have a bunch of shoes, anyway? Am I the only one who remembers that she's a fucking FORMER-ASSASSIN-NOW-SLAVE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!]
'Philippa huffed. "Just don't tell them I helped you when you get dragged back here."' [Sure, because if Celaena says nothing, they'll probably assume it was one of her other, non-existent maids who helped her navigate her way into her dress.]
'Frowning, Chaol watched his friend dance with the assassin. He wouldn't have danced with her, anyway. And he was glad he hadn't worked up the nerve to ask her, not after seeing the color that Duke Perrington's face turned upon discovering the pair.' [WTF is
' ... Cain was little more than a pawn in a game to amuse the king ... ' [That's what they keep saying, but the king isn't even present in the castle for the majority of the competition, so ... ]
Oh, one more thing: THE NAMES! How the heck do you pronounce Chaol? Kale? Like the cabbage? And Kaltain Rompier has to be one of the stupidest names I've EVER come across. It makes me think of frolicking unicorns, or ... something. As for the main character, well, I don't even know what to call her. Selena? Kay-lay-na? (that's the one I eventually settled on, after spending half the book mentally mumbling her name) I mean, what in Erilea kind of a name is Celaena? Is it really any wonder that Nehemia eventually renames her?! Other people get normal enough names, such as Dorian and Grave and Sam and Elena and Xavier and Cain and Philippa and Verin and Ned; simple names, really. I guess the special snowflake needs a special name to go with her very special personality impairment. Don't even try to get me started on the place names, because I tuned them out after Eyllwe, so I have no idea how these countries / lands / coffee beans relate to one another, but I'll probably live.
And what is even the point of the glass castle? Or the non-existent throne of glass that the book's apparently named after? Thinly-veiled CINDERELLA references FTW!!!! If you ask me, the author should have gone for Cinderella in Candyfloss Land!, because you certainly don't get much more than that. I don't even know what Celaena spends most of the second half of the book doing. The tournament trials and murders are mentioned in passing here and there (Yesterday we threw knives! Another three people were eaten over the past three weeks!) and the book focuses on - I don't know what - Celaena sitting in her room, Celaena fawning over herself in front of one mirror or another, Celaena boasting about her amazing assassin skills that you'd otherwise never know she had, Celaena going for walks, Celaena admiring pouffalicious dresses,
Also, since when do slaves have possessions? Why does some random slave (who immediately gets murdered by some random people, so yay for the Drama Llama) have enough salve to pass around as required? Who makes this salve? From what? Who are these slaves allowed to associate with that they can procure salve? What do they trade for this salve? Their bodies? Their hair? Salt they've squirrelled away from the mines? Yeesh! Explain yourself, Sarah J. Maas!
UGH! Terrible, terrible, horrendous. Nonsensical, stupid, pointless. Fluffy, pathetic, ridiculous. Need I say more? Really? Need I?
Throne of Glass tries to emulate Poison Study ... and fails ... spectacularly. Save yourself the torture and go straight for Poison Study. If you've already read Posion Study, read it again. Or try Graceling. Just ... don't say I didn't warn you.