The Brilliant Death (Review)

  All I needed to know about The Brilliant Death by Amy Rose Capetta was that it had some queer lovin’ and some non-binary characters. Which was good, because that’s basically all I had heard about Brilliant Death before I picked it up.

I’ve recently become adamant about my hunt for queer fantasy (feel free to leave recommendations in the comments below!), so when I saw this in the sale section at my local Barnes and Noble, I had to pick it up. It was a bonus that Capetta is a Vermont author, my very own home state, which I so rarely see on inside covers!

The Brilliant Death follows a young girl named Teodora, a secret stregha in one of the most powerful families in Vinalia. Little do her father and brothers know that Teodora has been watching out for them all these years and that all the clutter in her bedroom is actually those who posed threats to their family, now in the form of harmless music boxes and mirrors.

This story really begins, however, when Teodora’s life is changed forever, not just by the threat to her father’s life by the powerful ruler of Vinalia, the Capo, but also by her meeting with the mysterious Cielo, the first stregha other than herself Teodora’s ever met, who sometimes appears as a gust of wind and other times a raven, sometimes a boy and sometimes a girl.

Having finished the book, I now realize why the gender fluidity of the characters is what’s often highlighted when people talk about this book. That, and the commentary on gender roles and gender conformity were the strongest points of the story, and I appreciated the dialogues that cropped up during these moments, even if they could be a bit on-the-nose sometimes (it is YA after all).

“Understanding rustled through me, soft as leaves. It wasn’t quite the same, but I’d often felt I didn’t fit inside the boundaries of the word girl. It reminded me of a country I could happily visit, but the longer I stayed, the more I knew I couldn’t live there all the time.” 

The way that Capetta handles these issues so well, and also clearly shows throughout the book that she can write so well, makes it all the harder to admit the weak points of Brilliant Death.

This could have been a better book.

The Italian inspiration is clear and strong, and something I rarely see in other books.  I was excited to read about a world like that for the first time. The writing is clearly good. The concept of gender fluidity is a great doorway into relatable topics, which is so important in YA books. The magic system, although not wholly original, is interesting and engaging. I loved the moments when Teodora has conversations with her magic as if it’s a sentient being, a character all its own.

But I struggled to connect to the characters and what was happening to them. I was surprised at my disconnect, considering that this is written in first-person from Teodora’s view. I realized late in the story that part of this was because we so rarely see her emotions. Teodora ends up losing someone dear to her in the story but doesn’t grieve much except to remember them at times when it’s pertinent to the plot. Other times, I felt she should have had a stronger emotional reaction, but had little to none.

This book is short for fantasy but still tries to tackle a storyline with a broad scope. Important events end up being glossed over and hurried through, so much so that I sometimes didn’t realize they were happening. I had to go back at one point in the book to realize an important character had died. At another, I realized I had whizzed right by the climactic scene. Both seemed to take place in mere paragraphs when they could’ve been extended into chapters.

Both of these issues, unfortunately, affect the romance that bloomed as well. I wanted so badly to care about the two characters as they fell for each other, but I struggled to be. The romance scenes and other plot elements weren’t as well-blended as I wanted. The few instances where they showed their attraction seemed to come out of the blue, especially when the characters were first falling for one another. It was as if the storylines of them falling in love and Teodora trying to save her family were two separate things smacked into the same book spine. I felt like I was popping out of one story and into another…several times.

I also questioned how quickly one character lets the other into their life considering the circumstances under which they first met and what they first thought of each other. And I really questioned when one of the first romantic scenes occurs right after a sudden and gruesome death. I thought the characters would probably be grieving, but instead, they begin flirting, drawing the reader’s attention to their connection instead of the character’s death (which becomes important in the rest of the story).

“People hold a deep fear of complication.”

I would call The Brilliant Death a quotable book, but not a completely absorbing or memorable one. I felt it was too short and too fast for its own good. I ended up rating the book  2.5 out of 5 stars. I wish I could say better of a book by an author who clearly knows how to write well. I have hope that the sequel will be better, especially now that readers have been introduced to the characters and world. (Yes, this is a duology! Although I was as surprised as many to find that out at the end of the book as it sets itself up nicely for a sequel.) However, I’m sad to say I’m not sure if I’ll continue.

I have plenty of time to decide, however, since The Storm of Life isn’t set to be released until January 7, 2020.

I’d recommend this book to those who liked the main character and her powers in A Winter’s Promise, for those looking for more queer fantasy and non-binary characters, or for anyone who may have been aching for an Italian-inspired fantasy.