A review of ‘The Fiery Heart’, the fourth book in the ‘Bloodlines’ series, is out! Check it out!
If you weren’t already yizzing in your pants over the fact that Adrian got his own series, well … The Fiery Heart will sure spark up that yizz out of your places. For the sake of the younger readers, I’d suggest you skip this ‘review’. I’m going to use phrases so insulting and disgusting that your parents will send you up to Gotham Asylum if they ever learn you read them. I gave you a fair warning. Don’t come back crying.
It took me awhile to go around and read this damn thing. I read a couple of reviews and all were like ‘OW MY GAWD THIS SO AMAZING, SUCH WOW, MUCH TEARS, MANY BLOOD’ … and I figured it can’t be that bad. For fuck’s sake the book has 4+ rating. Right? Well, whoever the fuck invented this rating system, and whoever the fuck helped this book get this high up, should go straight to a dog-shit-filled abyss decorated with Jabba the Hutt’s vomit and then further chained up in an Orc-made ‘human centipede’. You fucking heard me. Well, you read me, but who the fuck cares about semantic value of this review. Let’s get started.
At first, I wanted to do chapter-by-chapter review, but then I thought: who the fuck would want to write that? Chapter-by-chapter review of the most shit-filled piece of wood in the past decade? Yeah, no. The first problem I have with this book appeared literally with second word in the book. First comes ‘Chapter I’ and the second word is ‘Adrian’. Right there I knew this was going to be a disaster beyond proportions. And I was right. Oh my … I was so right.
Why’d I continue …
The major part of why I liked Adrian rose up from the fact that I didn’t know what the fuck he was thinking. Well, imagine my surprise when the first fucking chapter destroys him so badly that I wasn’t able to recover. Not that there was anything to recover from. The only reason this stupid series began in the first place is now the reason I’ll probably skip the remaining two books. Want a list of what’s wrong with Adrian? Sure, I’ll give you a list.
– Spirit haunting him wasn’t enough of an excuse for his melancholy so Mead decided it’d be a good idea to have him be bipolar
– Think of 300000 different, poetic ways, to describe the girl. Adrian knows.
– You know that part when a main character is so useless that writer has to create some bullshitting event just to ‘help him grow’? Adrian knows.
– Remember that charming, sarcastic dude that was the only reason we read Vampire Academy and Bloodlines? Yeah, he’s gone.
– Is there a way for me to act more dramatic and ‘bipolar’? Adrian always finds a way.
– Hmm … how can I prove I love only Sydney? Oh, I know, let’s go see Rose and have think about how I no longer feel hot for her!
I’m seriously tired of this character. I’m annoyed. I’m almost frustrated. But, beyond all, I’m disappointed.
Open letter to Richelle Mead (first out of many in this review):
Dear Richelle Mead. We all know you can pull out a lot of bullshit straight out of your hairy ass, but seriously? Who the fuck gave you a hint that telling the story from Adrian’s perspective was a good idea? Seriously. Tell me. I’m deadly curious. Sincerely, an okay dude.
Back in the days, I used to fantasize about writing from female’s perspective. Actually no, no I didn’t. Why? Because fuck me if I know how female population sees the world. Apparently, Mead has it all figured out. I mean, she might be transgender for all I know, right? But the last time I checked, she was a fucking woman. Now, sure, there were some good stories that were written from perspective of reverse gender of that of author’s, but that shit should be left only to experienced and GOOD writers. Mead barely tops the average, even in solely vampire-young-adult-world category – let alone writer as a whole. It’s obvious from the very first chapter she has no fucking idea how male’s brain functions. If I had a penny for each time Mead used ‘Thesaurus’ for Adrian to describe Sydney, I’d be richer than fucking Bill Gates. I’m fine with occasional ‘poetic description’, but for holy fuck’s sake does ANY GUY IN THE WORLD think like that WHENEVER HE SEES HIS FUCKING GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND? Do any of you go: ‘Her radiant colors … her emerald-green eyes, illuminated features which shine like the goddamn sun …’ – NO YOU FUCKING DON’T. I don’t care whether the guy’s so in love that he can’t function properly (apparently he is), but there’s no way in ten worlds of fucking Thor this shit exists. No.
More things that are wrong with Adrian
– Hmm … you know what’s a good idea? If my girlfriend, who has the entire fucking organization that hates me behind her back, stands me up JUST ONCE, I’ll break our promise and go drink my ass off! That sounds like a very good idea! (seriously, I don’t know if Richelle Mead is sexist, feminist, or just plain fucking stupid)
– You know what else would be a good idea? Push my girlfriend into coming over every day and make EVERYONE more suspicious of her behavior!
– Blame my spirit for everything? Yeah.
– Have sex with my 18(19) years old girlfriend every day without using a condom! That sounds like a great idea!
– Conveniently start taking medication just before shit hits the fan!
– Make my world revolve around my girlfriend! But when she stands me up, forget about that bitch!
– Blame my dead aunt for everything wrong with me.
Okay, I’m five thousand words in and I’ve barely covered Adrian. That says something? Yeah … so, I figured I’ll skip the rest of the Adrian. Otherwise I’d have to write an actual fucking book about what the fuck happened to this character.
Want another list? Of course! Here’s the list of plot/character devices that were so blunt you’d spot them from Poo-Poo’s fucking ass. Ready? Steady? Go!
– Sydney’s father
– Misplacement of the phone
– Dead aunt
– Those two lesbian chicks no one cares about
Erm … pretty much everyone besides Sydney and Adrian. Oh, I forgot the most important thing: this entire book is written for maximum of three reasons:
– To show just how much Sydney ‘developed’
– To show just how much Adrian ‘developed’
– So that Sydney and Adrian can finally have sex
Look … I don’t mind convenient plot devices that much. But if every fucking thing that progresses your story is a fucking cheap plot device, then fuck me stupid. Oh, but Jill kisses Eddie! That’s development! And Jackie dates that eye-patch dude Wolf! Oh, oh, and Angeline and Trey start dating! Oh, Trey finally crosses over his ‘misbeliefs’!
Let me remind you that these four books are placed within 3-4 months. Five maximum. It’s really, REALLY, hard to believe that one would diminish all of his beliefs that were drilled into him/her for the entirety of their lives within barely half a year. And these things happen literally out of fucking nowhere! The entire fucking subplot was created solely so that the fucking Sydney and this Adrian can have sex! Are you fucking serious? No!
I instantly gave my copy of ‘The Fiery Heart’ – and I mean, like fifteen minutes after finishing it. And it took fifteen minutes only because that’s how long I had to walk to reach my friend’s house. I’ll have to take it away one of these days and update this shit with some of the ‘OH MY GOD IT’S SO AMAZING’ quotes. There are plenty.
Open letter number 2 to Richelle Mead:
Dear who-the-fuck-published-you Mead.
Just because you decided to resolve all the shitty love triangles doesn’t mean your love stories are good. If you write your love stories just to fulfill fan’s fucking desires, I hate you as a reader and fellow-want-to-be-writer. Jill and Eddie don’t belong together. Adrian and Sydney don’ belong together. Trey and Angeline don’t belong together. You suck at developing relationship between characters.
Sincerely, someone that actually reads critically and skeptically all of your works.
This really dragged on, so I’ll quickly wrap this up. Ending is absurd. The capture of Sydney is absurd. It literally came out of nowhere. Phone? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Let me get this straight. Zoe’s bee staying with Sydney for Jabba knows how long, and you’re telling it was the DAMN PHONE that tipped her off? ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED? And a fucking cake? And … fuck it. Conclusion? This shit sucks. Make it stop. Make it fucking stop. It isn’t even funny anymore.
Rating? There’s no rating in the world to describe this.