Bright and Broken Things by Ryan Graudin:

5 stars

There are several reasons Ezra Bright has never felt as though he belonged anywhere: he was born in Egypt and, after age six, raised in England; he was deeply hurt by those who love him most; and he doesn’t understand the strange things he can do. It isn’t until a thief explains that he has magic that things begin to make sense…and he begins to understand how corrupt the world truly is.

I have not previously been aware of Ms. Graudin, but I’m a fan. Consider me converted. Bright and Broken Things is not a quick or easy read—far from it; I recommend frequent breaks—but it does reward engaged reading. The worldbuilding is sumptuous; the lifestyles of the Bright Young Things are a swirl of glittering despair; and the halls and habits of the Order a labyrinth of slow-moving horror.

This story has a low narrative distance—the emotional impact is not softened. As a reader, there is the aftermath of war, the entitlement of desperate men addicted to power, and grief warped by time, dedication, and success. The story is not without humor, but it does not offer relief from all that Ezra goes through.

The prose is fairly dense and is not suited to those who prefer to scan; there is a mystery buried here, and it can be deduced with careful examination. For those who like a puzzle, this is a chewy one. The craftsmanship within these pages is a thing of beauty; the pacing is excellent, the style is gorgeous, and the characters—especially the villain—are exactly what they should be. This book is a challenge; no one gets what they think they wanted, but the ending is satisfying. It has darkness, sharp edges, and hope.

Thank you to Orbit Books for the opportunity to read Bright and Broken Things. I received a complimentary copy through NetGalley, and I am voluntarily writing this review.