Joe Abercrombie: The Blade Itself

Joe Abercrombie and Brandon Sanderson have been sitting on my "I'll get to it eventually" pile for years. This year I chose Sanderson , hated hated pretty much every minute of it. Regrouping, I decided to switch to Abercrombie. After finally diving into The Blade Itself, I'm left wondering why I waited so long. Sure this is fantasy, more in line with Game of Thrones than Mistborn. It reminded me of Duncan Hamilton's Dragonslayer series but with less fantastical elements and with blockbuster pacing and style of writing. It reads like a movie, packed with memorable characters, sharp dialogue, and enough mystery to keep the pages turning. It's a long book, but it never feels long. There isn't much wasted motion, and despite the hefty page count I never found myself checking how much I had left.

The biggest surprise was how approachable it is. People often compare The First Law to A Song of Ice and Fire, but despite me doing essentially the same thing in the above paragraph, I don't think it's a fair comparison. Both feature morally gray characters and political intrigue, yet Abercrombie keeps the plot focused and narrow in comparison. There are plenty of moving pieces, but each character has such a distinct voice that it's almost impossible to confuse them. Logen Ninefingers, Jezal dan Luthar, Glokta, Bayaz, Ferro, and Ardee all feel completely different from one another, and Abercrombie's knack for characterization is what elevates the novel above many of its fantasy peers. The minor characters could add a GoT level of confusion, but they're easy enough to remember as Abercrombie does a good job recalling for us titles and history of each character within a few sentences of being brought back into the fold.

One thing that caught me off guard was the worldbuilding. Fantasy fans often praise sprawling lore, magic systems, and encyclopedic histories, but Abercrombie keeps most of that in the background. The world feels lived in without constantly stopping to explain itself. Magic exists, but it's rare enough that every appearance feels important rather than routine. The restraint gives the supernatural elements weight. It also lets the characters remain the focus, which is clearly where Abercrombie wants it to be.

The book is also much funnier than I expected. Abercrombie has a dry sense of humor, usually delivered through reflection and profanity or just absurd situation. Glokta, in particular, steals nearly every scene he's in with his evil yet cantankerous loathing. A broken inquisitor who spends as much time mocking himself as everyone around him, he's simultaneously tragic, terrifying, and hilarious. Abercrombie has said in interviews that he wanted to write fantasy heroes who felt like real, flawed people instead of idealized archetypes, and Glokta may be the best example of that philosophy.

If I have any complaints, they're mostly about setup. The Shanka are introduced as a terrifying threat but never become as significant as I'd assumed. Ardee, despite being one of the most compelling characters in the book, spends much of the story waiting for the plot to find something meaningful for her to do. Most of all, the ending lacks a knockout punch or that tune in next issue that would leave you salivating for the next entry. That's not because it's poorly written, but because The Blade Itself is very clearly the first act of a much larger story. Rather than delivering a traditional climax, it spends its final pages arranging the chessboard for what comes next.

Judging solely based off good reads scores, this book is the WEAKEST in the series, hopefully not because it's weak, but because it's laying foundations that later books get to build upon.

The Blade Itself is an excellent start. It has the grit and political maneuvering of Game of Thrones, but it's easier to follow, faster paced, and considerably funnier. Yes, I wasn't satisfied in the ending because the story wasn't over. But I'm hoping things just keep getting better and it sticks the landing in the end.