Obsidian: Awakening had been on my TBR for some time so I jumped at the opportunity to take part in a buddy read on Dom’s Book Club Discord channel.
I’d seen rave reviews of it from esteemed reviewers such as Esmay Rosalyne and Craig Bookwyrm so knew I was in for a treat but wow, I wasn’t expecting the impact it would have on me.
In fact, it’s taken me a few weeks to fully absorb everything I loved about the book so I can attempt to condense it into a review.
I almost always choose the books I read very carefully, with research, because time is precious and I want to be assured I’m well rewarded for my investment. With Obsidian, I struck gold.
I was hooked from the first few pages by the quality of writing, intriguing premise, the intensity and passion of the character dynamics, and the world Frost has created.
Inspired by, rather than based on, Arabic and Mongolian cultures, the peninsula setting of the Black and White Deserts is so rich and in-depth, and the worldbuilding is weaved masterfully through the narrative.
It imbues every aspect of the book and provides a living, breathing foundation to everything which happens. The world history and cultural traditions give meaning to every action and the story is all the more believable and resonant for it.
The characters are the result of their places in this world, shaped by the prejudices and experiences of previous generations as much as the desert around them is sculpted by the winds and sun.
And what a brutal world it is. Harsh and unforgiving, like the people who inhabit it.
Life is tough. Even for those with wealth, power and influence - in some ways, more so - survival is the most people can hope for. There is no oasis of peace and safety in these deserts.
I’m not going to cover the plot – or rather the plots – in this review, as you can read that elsewhere. Instead, I’m focussing on my personal reading experience and my opinions of the book.
What I will say, however, is that the plotting involves a super complex spiderweb of threads between characters and events. I lapped up the multiple push and pull, cause and effect connections between all the personal and political factors and motivations at play.
It has more twists and turns than a rollercoaster, with cliff-hangers at the end of most chapters, and is full of nuances and subtext.
There were so many things I didn’t see coming even though I took my time reading, searching for any clue and coming up with all sorts of theories.
And I prolonged the enjoyable torture of wanting to find out what happens, restraining myself from galloping through the book like a Valerian stallion.
I loved all the cloak and dagger mystery in this book. It’s a desert storm of enthralling confusion, of incense smoke and mirrors, packed with duality, prophecy, foreshadowing and hidden meanings, and offering reflections on the failings of our own world.
The power plays, cunning scheming, alliances and betrayals kept me constantly on my toes. It’s all so juicy, and the passion and frisson between some of the characters adds extra zest and spice to proceedings. Things can get hot in the desert!
The sexual and non-sexual relationships in Obsidian are as satisfyingly complicated as the political ones and are usually intertwined with them and the geopolitical landscape. They’re as dangerous too, adding to the seams of conflict which layer this riveting tale.
However, it’s not all doom, gloom, threat and violence. There are sprinklings of humour in the parched sands of this menacing world and it brings some light relief from the darkness which otherwise rarely lifts from shrouding events in a deep sense of foreboding.
That feeling that the world is full of shit and things are only going to get worse.
And that’s the overall tone of Obsidian, in my view.
It’s grim and it’s dark. It isn’t a book about hope and the triumph of good over evil. It’s about survival and constant conflict in an unpleasant world full of danger, backstabbing and retribution. If I lived there, my motto would be “watch your back and trust no-one”.
There are some horrific moments but they are amazingly told, and there are instances of such immense poignancy I was hit so many times in the gut while being stirred in the heart.
The themes and messages are so powerful in this book. Destiny and fate. The burdens, duties and responsibilities of leadership, and of family and culture. The bonds and shackles which tie us to people and traditions. A captivating study of freedom and the cost of it.
Underpinning it all, sacrifice, love, hatred, prejudice and discrimination. And the thirst for - and constant cycle of – vengeance, which feeds perpetual war.
These themes are explored through the characters and the personal and political wars they wage, the oaths they take, the betrayals they face, and the pride, devotion, retribution, anger, guilt and shame which
drives them.
Like the story itself, the characters are full of paradoxes. Each of them is powerful and ambitious, yet most of them don’t have complete agency over their actions. They are tools, pieces on a peninsula-sized chess board, to be used as weapons by whoever proves the most cunning players of the long-game.
Make no mistake, the cast features a writhing nest of deadly vipers who will sink their fangs into anyone who gets in the way of their goals. If political intrigue and fascinating character dynamics are your poison, you’ll love it.
They are some of the most interesting and strong characters I’ve ever read about. There is nothing one-dimensional about Frost’s characterisation. Their personalities are so fully rounded we’re talking at least 4D! We don’t just get inside their minds, we’re given backstage access to the depths of their souls.
Most of the characters are broken and scarred, some very literally, and we experience their motivations, flaws, weaknesses and all their passions through all their senses. And it’s so bloody intense.
It’s also deeply psychological at times, and physically, mentally and emotionally tortuous, as we suffer through them some particularly toxic relationships.
We witness the clash of cultures and individuals through multiple points of view which provide so much insight and, literally, different perspectives, to the extent that my own allegiances switched repeatedly.
The personal and political stakes are high for everyone and the book is seething and simmering with external and internal conflict on so many levels as the characters fight with each other and themselves.
Each has their own battle on many fronts and their own demons to face and conquer to avoid becoming the monster that is perhaps in us all.
None of them are pure hero or pure villain (apart from one nasty, pathetic misogynist) and that is one of the many strengths of Obsidian. Despite the white and black of its deserts setting, it is all about shades of grey and the perspectives of different cultures.
Speaking of which, I love the duality of the Black and White Deserts and the Black and White Towers which rule them. But there are circles within circles at play and not everything in this world – like the characters - is black and white.
Duality is used time and time again throughout the story, which is something I revel in as a reader, along with the clever symbolism and imagery Frost employs to great effect.
There are so many superb examples of clever metaphors and similes which beautifully enrich the descriptions like a desert rose without ever being overly flowery.
Indeed, the prose as a whole is stunning. Every word earns its place and many of the passages are works of art in themselves, irrespective of the story they tell.
There are brilliant wordplays and even the darkest of subject matter is handled with supreme skill. There are times when it is beautifully horrible or horribly beautiful, I still can’t decide which. It’s another paradox of Obsidian, how some aspects can be so horrific and brutal and yet so amazingly readable.
The writing is as sharp as obsidian and the emotional impacts cut so deeply, so often.
There is biting cut and thrust in the wit and dialogue of several characters, their words wielded like weapons time after time in their verbal sparring. The equally sharp characterisation is superb, from all the mannerisms to their distinctive patterns of speech.
I even enjoyed trying to decipher the clever chapter titles (there are no chapter numbers) and the layers of meaning I suspected them of having.
It has obviously been written with much intelligence and passion - for the characters, setting and story - by an author with a great understanding of the human condition. A writer with lots to say about humanity using a fantasy world which sadly reflects our own as history repeats itself across planet Earth.
There are many life lessons in Obsidian and my take on some of the most important are that, to break the cycle of violence, vengeance and tragedy, people need to see things differently and act differently. Whether that’s in a family, a society or as a world leader.
They need to have the courage and foresight to act independently of their cultures and forebears. They need to sacrifice something, including pride, to end violence and achieve peace.
The characters in Obsidian all make sacrifices but will any of them be prepared to put peace before war, forgiveness before vengeance, tolerance and acceptance before hatred and prejudice?
After all, someone isn’t your enemy just because they’re different. Because they look different, speak differently, act differently, have different beliefs, or live their life by different rules and principles.
We can’t have peace without acceptance, tolerance and forgiveness – by everyone, for everyone.
War always has many losers but maybe the lesson is accepting you don’t always have to win. Or the only way for everyone to win is for everyone to lose, in the sense that everyone has to sacrifice something precious to them, to achieve the greater good.
OK, that’s my message to humanity over. Back to Obsidian.
I’m an optimist but I suspect Frost isn’t.
I don’t think this series will conclude with “and they all lived happily ever after” and I don’t need to be an oracle like one of the characters to have the foresight to know this story is going to break many of the characters. And me.
But, like obsidian, I’m sure I’ll be stronger for it, having absorbed the powerful messages and basking in the beauty of the storytelling and prose.
In conclusion, Obsidian is a journey. A hard, remarkable, engrossing adventure in which every chapter packs a combination of punches, often sucker punches at that.
It’s a staggering masterpiece in so many ways and I’ve never made so many highlights in a book.
The depth and intensity of the emotional dynamics between the characters and their introspection is breathtaking. As is the brilliant prose, the complexities of the plot, the richness of the cultures and setting, and the power of the themes and messages.
It may not seem like it but I’ve had to constrain myself with this review. That’s because everything about this magnificent book makes it a fertile oasis for waxing lyrical about it.
It’s an epic in the tradition of Arabian Nights and I expect it to get even more epic.
I could happily spend one thousand and one nights writing lots of essays about every character, every chapter and every plot thread because it’s an incredible read.
I love it to death and can’t wait for the desert sun to rise on book 2.