A Personal Dive into the Shadows: A Review of The Lesser Devil (The Sun Eater, #1.5)
When I first picked up Empire of Silence, I didn’t just find a book—I discovered a universe that pulled me into its cosmic depths. Christopher Ruocchio’s storytelling captivated me in ways I hadn’t anticipated, building a narrative so rich and layered that I couldn’t wait to devour every subsequent tale in The Sun Eater series. So, naturally, The Lesser Devil caught my attention as it promised a more in-depth exploration of Crispin Marlowe—Hadrian’s overshadowed brother. As I dove in, I felt the thrill of returning to a realm that blurs the lines between family loyalty and ambition.
Set chronologically in the middle of Empire of Silence, The Lesser Devil offers a fascinating lens into Crispin’s psyche. At nearly 60,000 words, it straddles the line between a novella and a short novel. Here we find Crispin summoned back to the ducal palace, facing not just political intrigue among the Duchess’s heirs but a personal reckoning with his own identity. The narrative quickly pulls us into the murky waters of familial expectations and treachery, all under the looming specter of violence that Ruocchio so compellingly examines.
Crispin has always been portrayed as a brute addicted to power, living in Hadrian’s shadow. But this book reveals dimensions of his character that challenge this stereotype. The emotional complexity of his internal struggles—wanting to break free from the past while wrestling with his perceived shortcomings—resonated deeply with me. Ruocchio’s exploration of brotherhood—their conflicting perceptions of each other—strikes a personal chord. As someone with siblings, I found their rivalry and longing familiar and relatable.
The writing style is, as always, striking. Ruocchio excels in weaving intricate prose that evokes both imagery and emotion, though I must admit that The Lesser Devil veers into heavily detailed action scenes. While I appreciate the vibrancy of these sequences, at times, they came at the cost of pacing, leaving me yearning for the quieter, introspective moments that made Empire of Silence so impactful. Crispin’s evolving relationship with Hadrian echoed throughout the book, culminating in poignant expressions like, “He had always been the lesser devil … it had taken years to realize that it was this that had made him angry as a boy.” This reflection on identity felt profound, highlighting how familial expectations can shape us in ways we often overlook.
One quote that particularly resonated with me, “Cultures are always built on the bones of the cultures that come before,” encapsulates the weight of legacy that runs throughout the narrative. Crispin’s battle is not just against external forces but against the ingrained narratives that define him.
In conclusion, while The Lesser Devil isn’t quite the literary masterpiece that Empire of Silence is, it offers a valuable glimpse into a character that deserves more attention. It’s an engaging tale that should certainly appeal to fans of the series seeking to understand the Marlowe family’s dynamics better. If you’ve enjoyed exploring the complex interplay of duty, identity, and familial bonds, this short novel will undoubtedly satiate your curiosity. For me, it has only stoked the fire of excitement for the next installment, Howling Dark. Here’s to cosmic adventures and the never-ending journeys they inspire!
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