I read A Discovery of Witches two years ago, and was suitably unimpressed. (Well, not unimpressed, more like I loathed it.) Then last year, for some unknown reason (I blame having bronchitis and being in the mood to mindlessly binge watch), I watched the entire series on Netflix. (I also watched Shadow & Bone, about 11 seasons of Supernatural, and all of Bridgerton that was out at the time; don’t judge me for any of it. I told you, I was delirious with bronchitis.) So I figured I should get around sometime to continuing the book series, just to see if it was as bad as the television one was. Spoiler alert: in some ways, the book is far worse.
Picking up immediately where A Discovery of Witches ended, Shadow of Night takes Diana and Matthew on a trip through time back to Elizabethan London; where they attempt to find not only Ashmole 782 (the manuscript that started all this brouhaha in the first place), but also a teacher so that Diana can actually learn to use her magic. (Which seeing as she’s the main character, isn’t ordinary magic, but super-special super-rare magic, because of course it is.) Plunged into a world of spies, magic, and a coterie of Matthew’s old friends, the School of Night, the net of Matthew’s past tightens around them. Will they find what they are looking for? And what will they lose (and gain) along the journey?
This sucked as much as the TV series did. Largest problem was Diana being a doormat for the majority of the plot. Matthew’s jealousy has to be understood, his possessiveness coddled. his ego assuaged, he needs to call all the shots in the bedroom and always be on top; it isn’t “romantic”, it’s tiresome and offensive. If I was Diana I would have either dumped his sorry self months ago, or killed him or myself; anything to get away from him. But then again, that would mean Diana Bishop would show Matthew the backbone she only seems to have towards other people (except for when she’s whining at them.) Surely you’ll be as thrilled as I was to read that their marriage didn’t really begin until approximately 6 months into it, or that Matthew’s reaction to Diana’s miscarriage is more important than Diana’s feelings. (Seriously, one good executioner’s axe would solve all your problems, Diana.)
Phoebe, the Sotheby’s employee that Matthew’s son Marcus gets fixated by, was far more tolerable in the show; here, I couldn’t wait until the chapter mentioning her was over. Meanwhile Diana’s aunt Sarah is just a p.i.t.a. no matter what medium she’s in. Honestly, book or show, my favorite characters are probably Phillipe and Ysabeau, Matthew’s parents. Mostly because in some ways they seem to be the most adult out of everyone. Stephen, Diana’s father, was a pill; though with him being the way he is, I can see why bossy and condescending Matthew is her type of dream man.I also like Gallowglass, but he (and Phillipe) do just continue the Romantasy tradition of all men either falling love with, becoming fiercely protective of, or wanting to see dead the female lead because she’s that special/wonderful/standing in their way of something. (Which of course Kit Marlowe’s problem with her is what it is; why would it be anything else?)
Harkness is yet one more person that seems to play fast and furious about facts regarding Elizabeth and what England was like under her reign. But why would you want historical accuracy in what is basically just Outlander for the supernaturally bent? (My mother bought the first book in that series; neither one of us ever got through it. That and this make me wonder why some women seem to find egotistical, domineering, controlling men sexy and desirable.) Of course we also have to have Diana being the Goddess Diana’s champion, because why shouldn’t the main character just be that much more extra?
Add on to that I seriously suspect that Diana and Matthew adopt the woman who later becomes Shakespeare’s Anne Hathaway, they get their portraits done by a famous artist, and Matthew has to be the mysterious “Roydon” of the School of Night and BFFs with the who’s who of Elizabethan England, and they are both just special little snowflakes.
The writing is tad trite, overly blown, and just screams that this book is more of a Romantasy bodice ripper than an actual historical fantasy book. I don’t really care where this series is going, and it’s not because I already know because I’ve seen the show; even if I hadn’t I wouldn’t care. Will I still finish the series? Possibly, because I’m a masochist and usually don’t quit series once I’ve started them. But it’s going to be a long, long time before I get the next three books.
Can’t say I can recommend this book, unless you like to read books where you scream unflattering opinions of the characters back at the pages. (One unexpected thing though: after A Maiden and Her Monster, this is the second book I’ve read recently to mention the Golem of Prague. And I didn’t like that book any better.)
