A Dive into Chaos and Charm: The Malevolent Eight (The Malevolent Seven, #2)
As a book blogger, I often find myself returned to familiar literary haunts, and Sebastien de Castell’s work is one of those places I love to revisit. Having been captivated by his earlier series, The Greatcoats, it was with a blend of excitement and mild trepidation that I delved into The Malevolent Eight, eager to see if the magic would carry over. I was ready to embrace whatever chaos and charm awaited me, but what unfolded was a story I appreciated in pieces more than as a cohesive whole.
Picking up where I left off with The Malevolent Seven was interesting, and I soon found that much of the previous installment had faded from my memory—a possible indicator of how invested I felt in this storyline overall. The initial chapters felt like a jigsaw puzzle, with me trying to piece together elements of a plot I had once been engrossed in. Fortunately, once that fog began to lift, the pacing quickened, and the chaotic essence of de Castell’s world swept me away again.
The plot is undeniably fun, weaving in magic, gods, and demons—ingredients that form the backbone of an adventure you’d expect from de Castell. When the story is firing on all cylinders, it shines, echoing the sharp dialogue and lively energy that made The Greatcoats so remarkable. It’s in those moments—the unexpected twists, the snappy interactions—that you get a taste of the brilliance behind de Castell’s narrative craft.
However, this brilliance often felt buried beneath a layer of noise. Each time the plot gathered steam, we’d hit a slow patch filled with internal monologues that seemed overly focused on landing jokes. After a while, it became tiring—seemingly half of my reading time was spent contemplating the plot rather than moving through it. The humor, which can often be a highlight of de Castell’s storytelling, came across as forced this time around. It felt like I was being hit over the head with punchlines that didn’t land—the humor occasionally devolved into shouting rather than wit, leaving me rolling my eyes rather than laughing.
The characters’ relationships, particularly the enemies-to-lovers arc, left me feeling unfulfilled. The lack of tension or emotional groundwork made transitions feel abrupt and disconnected. There was a lot of bravado, but it left the promised chemistry feeling unconvincing—like it was masquerading as something deeper without the foundational work to back it up.
Yet, amidst this chaos, glimpses of brilliance emerged. There are some scenes and ideas that reminded me of why I hold de Castell’s writing in such high regard. The creativity of the world-building and the distinct nature of the magic system are still on display. When the focus was on the plot rather than its commentary, the story truly sparkled.
Overall, The Malevolent Eight was an enjoyable read that didn’t quite stick with me. It was fun enough to finish, but when I closed the book, it felt a bit forgettable. If someone were to ask me where to start with de Castell’s work, I’d still direct them to The Greatcoats. That said, the way this book concludes hints at more adventures to come, and despite my frustrations, I’m keen to see where it goes next. There’s a flicker of something superb here, and when the series eventually hits its stride, I can’t wait to be part of that journey. If you enjoy adventurous fantasy with a sprinkle of chaos, chaos, and charm, this might just be a quirky stop along the way worth your time.
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