The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.13


This chapter begins with probably one of the most relatable sentences Stiefvater has ever written:

Blue very much liked having the boys over to her house.

Dude! Me too! Have the boys over every chapter!

We get an explanation about why this is that involves how she sees the boys differently when they’re in a space that’s definitively hers, especially since around her family she can’t lay claim to it the way she can around an outsider. It’s hard to be a human battery in a room full of psychics, something we so often forget about Blue.

Only Gansey and Adam are visiting today. Ronan is somewhere else and Noah is elsewhere, so after a quick Gansey OOTD (green shirt, fancy coffee, restless energy) we get right down to business. They’re trying to decide whether or not today is the day they go back to Cabeswater, and there’s two sides: team “there are rules regarding the energy that we don’t understand, so it’s too dangerous and we shouldn’t go”, and team “who cares we’re going anyways.” Can you guess which one comes out on top?

[Maura] would see a rich boy dressed and coiffed like a newscaster—but his eyes were like the dreaming pool in Cabeswater. He hid the insatiable wanting well, but now that she’d seen in once, she couldn’t stop seeing it. But he wouldn’t be able to explain it to Maura.

And he would never really have to explain it to Blue.

There are some fun side plots, like the consumption of Maura’s horrible-tasting psychic tea and, as with every Blue POV, finding Gansey’s vulnerability attractive, but the fact remains that this is a Decision Chapter and the decision has been made. Calla has something to say about it, but Blue and Gansey are teenagers, so there’s no reason for them to listen.

Blue and Gansey both remember Adam at the same time. Gansey takes the opportunity to ask Blue about the murderkiss as promised. Actually, he calls it “that no-kissing curse thing,” which is a mouthful and made me really glad I invented the term murderkiss. It really rolls off the tongue.

They have a small, heated argument during which Blue tries really hard to pretend like she isn’t attracted to Gansey and fails miserably. Instead of facing her failure she runs outside to inform Maura they’ll be going to Cabeswater as soon as Ronan arrives, and to ask about the scrying bowl in the attic. Maura lies, Blue calls her out on it, and then Maura admits to using it to look for Butternut (the colloquial term for Blue’s absent father).

Because they forgot about Adam again, Blue’s surprised when she catches Maura and Call looking at him. My post-it note here said “Adam!!!! Bby boi!!!!!” which I think is most people’s reaction to any mention of Adam Parrish, but certainly not Blue’s.

He sat in the reading room by himself, the diffuse morning light rendering him soft and dusty. He had removed one of the three tarot decks from its bag and lined all of the cards face up in three long rows. Now he leaned on the table and studied the image on each, one at a time, shuffling on his elbows to the next when he was through. He looked nothing like the Adam who’s lost his temper and everything like the Adam she had first met. That was what was frightening, though—there’d been no warning.

The grown-up psychics decide someone needs to talk to him, and Calla announces it won’t be her. There’s a lovely train wreck analogy in which Adam’s described as a derailment, because he’s taking quite a bit of time to come off the tracks, but he’s coming off nonetheless. Because they’re psychic, I assume they knew that Adam could hear them the whole time.

He has a very healthy response to the whole derailment issue: “that would mean I was on the tracks to start with.” Sad and self-aware, that’s our Adam.

And then, probably my favorite part of the whole chapter, which I will copy below as not to mar it with my poor summarizing skills.

Gansey appeared beside Blue in the doorway. He shook his empty bottle at her.

“Fair trade,” he told her in a way that indicated he had selected a fair-trade coffee beverage entirely so that he could tell Blue that he had selected a fair-trade coffee beverage so that she could tell him Well done with your carbon footprint and all that jazz.

Blue said, “Better recycle the bottle.”

Whatever works, Blue. Whatever works.

Thoughts and Feelings:

I love this chapter with a particular fierceness because it looks both backwards and forwards at some of my favorite Blue and Gansey moments (known to fandom as Bluesey, which is a very cute name).

Blue is surprised when Gansey refers to her using her real name because she’s so used to Jane. That’s amazing. That’s adorable. I’m going to shut up about it before y’all get annoyed with me. Then, we get the first appearance of Blue and Gansey’s romantic yogurt consumption. I know, I know. You’re asking: how the hell can yogurt consumption be romantic?

Well, when it’s yogurt with fruit on the bottom and one person likes the yogurt and one person likes the fruit and they share the experience of consuming a delicious and nutritious snack, how can you not pass out at the pure and unadulterated romance? That’s right, you can’t.

And then, lastly, it’s the way that Blue and Gansey interact. With Adam, Blue completely freezes. Unless she’s angry, she loses any semblance of character she previously had. Instead, when she’s with Gansey, it’s very Elizabeth and Darcy. They have these quick, witty conversations that start with one of them (usually Blue) angry and end with both of them laughing. An example:

“Isn’t every female relative of yours in this house somewhere?”

Blue whispered furiously. “Don’t be un-un—“

“Couth? Uncouth?”
“Disrespectful! My grandmothers are both dead.”

“Well, Jesus. What did they die of?”

“Mom always said ‘meddling’.”

That’s how you develop a romance, people.

(We are going to ignore the plot-hole of Blue knowing how or when Artemus’s mother died because it’s small and insignificant, but I do want to brag about my knowledge of the series by pointing it out. So, I guess we’re not going to ignore it. I’ll shut up now.)

Overall, my feelings about this chapter can be summed up in one sentence: Thank God, we’re going to Cabeswater.

Best Character Moment:

Gansey took a drink of his healing tea. Maura’s chin jutted as she observed the lump of It heading down his throat. His face remained precisely the same and he said absolutely nothing, but after a moment, he made a gentle fist of his hand and thumped his breastbone.

“What did you say that was good for?” he asked politely.

Best Turn of Phrase:

Gansey completely forgot they were being secretive and let out a tremendous laugh. It was a powerful thing, that laugh. He only did it once, but his eyes remained shaped like it.

Action: The promise of future action is enough for me. 7/10

Magic: I don’t think Maura’s tea quite did the trick. And anyways, she spent the whole chapter being distinctly unhelpful. 4/10

Comic Relief: Gansey insinuated that Blue’s family keeps the male relatives live in the basement! Classic comedy! 11/10

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.12


In the beginning of this chapter, for an exceptionally lovely page and a half, we are thrust back into 300 Fox Way. It’s been so long that I almost forgot what their house number was, which is a travesty. I promise it will never happen again.

But, as things go at Fox Way, this is a pretty quiet morning. We’re mostly concerned with Blue’s summer reading and its subsequent interruption as her Aunt Jimi comes in to smudge the room. I didn’t know what that was, but I quickly found out it’s when you burn bundles of herbs and then walk around to cleanse somewhere of bad energy. The bad energy we’re getting rid of today is Neeve’s, because unlike the reader, the occupants of Blue’s house haven’t forgotten that she was doing bad witchy stuff very recently.

Now Jimi waved the lavender and sage in Blue’s face. “Sacred smoke, cleanse the soul of this young woman before me and give her some common sense.”

Blue is waiting for Adam and Gansey to come over and leaves the smokiness of her room, fully preparing to wait for them out there, when she realizes the attic door has been left open. What teenager wouldn’t be inclined to snoop, with an invitation like that? Blue goes upstairs.

She finds that everything has been packed away and shoved to the side except for Neeve’s mirrors and her scrying bowl, which looks like it’s been recently used. That doesn’t make sense, not only because Neeve has been gone for months, but because scrying is dangerous and the women of Fox Way have been sufficiently warned against it. We are (not so subtly) posed the question: who’s scrying? And what are they looking for?

We then switch point-of-view to a nice little flashback where Ronan explains how he once saw the devil. This isn’t a joke, or a fun little metaphor where he describes the human cruelty he’s been witness to. No, Ronan Lynch saw his father shoot a red, horned being in the head. What he called the devil then showed Niall its genitalia and then left.

I’m not entirely sure what to make of this story, except to tell you all that it’s supposed to serve as an explanation for why Ronan is religious and transition to a scene in St. Agnes, with Noah and all three Lynch brothers.

It was the devil who drove him to church every Sunday, but it was his brother Matthew who drove him to a pew beside Declan.

Declan looks terrible. We know why he looks terrible; remember when he got the shit kicked out of him in chapter two? But he doesn’t tell Ronan everything, instead saying it’s a burglary and refusing to say anything more about it. Ronan’s a little jealous; he’s definitely of the fun sibling mentality that dictates nobody but him can beat up his brothers.

That sweet bonding moment is interrupted when Declan, acting with no tact (as per usual), tells Ronan that Kavinsky isn’t Lynch Family Approved and they should stop hanging around each other. Even if there wasn’t gay tension there, Ronan would still have a right to be pissed, but you can see how the setting might up the tension. Catholic church, estranged brother telling you not to talk about the boy you dreamed a present for the night before—it’s a lot to take in.

Sometimes, Declan seemed to think that being a year older gave him special knowledge of the seedier side of Henrietta. What he meant was, did Ronan know that Kavinsky was a cokehead?

In his ear, Noah whispered, “Is crack the same thing as speed?”

Ronan didn’t answer. He didn’t think it was a very church-appropriate conversation.

When church is over and they all leave, we get a wonderful cameo from Declan’s-smart-girlfriend-Ashley, who fights with Ronan and acknowledges the church as an institution is oppressive to women (thank you, Ashely, you underappreciated bottle-blonde goddess). Ronan is having none of this and leaves to look for a street race. Which is to say, he leaves to look for Kavinsky and the spiritual satisfaction he didn’t find at church.

I’m going to gloss over this part, because I know that Stiefvater loves cars but I just don’t know anything about them. Descriptions of souped-up whatevers and loud mufflers just confuses me. Let’s just say that Ronan knows how to find a car with which to race, and that takes the kind of Rich Boy Car Knowledge that he and Kavinsky have in spades.

Noah and Ronan drive in the direction of Kavinsky’s house. Kavinsky shows up in his Mitsubishi, calls Ronan a fag, and then pretends to get offended when he’s called a Russian in return. I realize that I truly do not understand teenage boys, and thank God for that.

Ronan wins the street race. For one second, he is happy. It’s a new experience for the both of us.

Thoughts and Feelings:

These new-fangled chapters with their multiple locations and diversified plot structures are really throwing me for a loop. It feels like years since we were smudging Blue’s room with her Aunt Jimi! Granted, that makes sense, as any church service also seemed to me, in childhood, to take several years, but still. Wow.

We got to meet Matthew for the first time, which is nice. There’s a gratuitous description of his dimples (which makes sense in a couple books when you learn more about the Lynch family structure) and he turns down the church wine which is very adorable and wholesome for a boarding school boy. Declan and Ronan make a lot of angry noises at one another, which makes sense with what we know of their characters.

I was a bit startled by the throwback to Neeve and her mysterious disappearance, because she feels so irrelevant now. It’s also well-within my moral code to just write her off. She messed with stuff she shouldn’t have messed with—she deserves to be gone! Anybody who had a healthy appetite for reading as a kid knows that’s what happens to villains. They don’t die, because killing is ~wrong~, but they deserve whatever odd punishment is granted them.

I wasn’t so much startled by all the anger that was floating around the church. This is Ronan’s book, so seeing what he does on the weekends is inevitable. It was a motley crew, though, there’s no denying that. Ronan, Noah, Declan, Matthew, and then Kavinsky. In hindsight I have to say I’m glad Blue was there to balance it all out.

I’m excited for this to move forward, though. Blue dropped the hint that she’s waiting for Adam and Gansey, Ronan is angry and ready to mess some shit up for everyone, and Noah is being proactive about the state of his soul. It’s pretty much all I can ask for as we transition to figuring out what the hell is going on with Cabeswater and where Glendower is sleeping. If we ever do, in fact, find out either of those things (don’t worry guys, I’ve read the series. We do find them out. It just takes a couple more books).

I’m going to stop rambling and go to the highlights now.

Best Character Moment:

A lady reached over the top of Noah to pat Matthew’s head fondly before continuing down the aisle. She didn’t seem to care that he was fifteen, which was all right, because he didn’t, either. Both Ronan and Declan observed this interaction with the pleased expressions of parents watching their prodigy at work.

Best Turn of Phrase:

And so Ronan became a reverse evangelist. The truth burst and grew inside him, and it was laid upon him to share it with no one.

Action: As street races go, this one took place after a house-cleaning and Catholic mass. Not all that exciting. 5/10

Magic: I personally hated the magic we were presented in this chapter, which was the red devil that Ronan saw with his father. It felt superfluous and creepy for no reason. 2/10

Comic Relief: Man oh man does Matthew provide relief from the tension between his older brothers. But how funny was it, really? 6/10

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.11


This is an interesting chapter in that it doesn’t fall into any of the predetermined categories. It’s more like a dream scrapbook, moving from Ronan to the Gray Man to Adam in quick succession. This format was so daunting, in fact, that I took a 2 week break from doing any work with regards to this blog and now I feel like a big idiot who does nothing but sleep and watch YouTube videos. But we all knew that was true even before I stopped reading Dream Thieves, so I don’t know what I was so worried about.

We start off with Ronan’s dreams, which are naturally the most exciting:

It was a massive old forest, oaks and sycamores pushing up through the cold mountain soil. Leaves skittered in the breeze. Ronan could feel the size of the mountain under his feet. The oldness of it. Far below there was a heartbeat that wrapped around the world, slower and stronger and more inexorable than his own.

When I dream, it’s usually about missing class. This is infinitely more interesting.

The trees are calling him Greywaren in Latin and everything is ominous and rustly, so Ronan calls out for a girl. I’m not exaggerating, he says “Girl?” and then she appears. She’s been around since Ronan was a kid, big when he was little and now vice versa. She talks to him in Latin and helps him make things real so he can take them home. He calls her Orphan Girl.

In the time it’s taken for Ronan to describe Orphan Girl, he’s dreamt hundreds of hornets to crawl all over his hands. But this is a dream, and Ronan is the king, and when he decides they aren’t hornets, they aren’t. Now they’re ladybugs, and Ronan is moving forward in the dream.

He scratches on a rock: the trees speak Latin. He grabs a replica of Kavinsky’s sunglasses to take back with him, to prolong the game. The Orphan Girl asks Ronan to take her with him, but he wakes up instead.

Then we’re thrown into the mind of the Gray Man, who is dreaming of a stabbing. He’s never the victim; first he’s the wounds themselves, then he’s the one doing the stabbing, and then he moves on to be the knife itself. That’s weird enough to jar him out of sleep, but remember, this is our Gray Man. Ever the pragmatist. He just rolls over and goes back to bed.

And then, last, Adam. Adam’s not even sleeping.

Curled on the mattress, he covered his face with his summer-hot arm. Sometimes, if he blocked his mouth and nose, just this side of suffocation, sleep would overthrow him.

He’s doing the immensely pleasurable thing we all do while we’re trying to go sleep where we think about every awkward and horrible things we did the day before. Adam is thinking about when he lost his temper in front of Blue, and when he sacrificed himself, and whether he even deserves to be alive. You know, everyday stuff.

Basically, everyone else gets to dream instead of Adam. What a surprise.

Thoughts and Feelings:

Here’s the thing about this chapter: it’s almost entirely contenders for my best turn of phrase category. It’s a transitional chapter to get us away from the exposition and into the action, and it’s beautifully written. But it’s ultimately unsatisfying. I didn’t learn anything from these characters that I didn’t already know.

Was it cool? Yeah. Did I get Harry Potter’s Nagini dream from Order of the Phoenix vibes from the Gray Man’s knife dream? Yeah, obviously. But did it enhance my understanding of the story or the characters within it? No, not particularly.

Now in the interest of getting my Ulysses reading done in time for class today, I’m going to cut this short. But an apology is due for being so lax about this, and to compensate for that I’ll be doing another life update complete with pictures very soon! Not that anyone cares, but it does make me feel better.

Best Character Moment:

Time was a circle, a rut, a worn tape Ronan never got tired of playing.

Best Turn of Phrase:

He had been here before, lots of times. He’d grown up with this recurring dream forest. Its roots were tangled in his veins.

Action: Other than several stab wounds and a pair of sunglasses, I have nothing to show for reading this chapter. 3/10

Magic: Dream forest! 7/10

Comic Relief: I laughed at nothing but my own jokes. It’s not a rare occurrence, but it is disappointing. 4/10

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.10


At this point all I do is apologize for posting updates late, and I’m tired of it! Especially when it pertains to self-imposed deadlines about a passion project that I’m only doing because I couldn’t find it anywhere else on the internet. Chapter updates will come when they come, and this will be the last one until at least Monday because I’m going on a class trip to Yeats country this weekend and will be too busy hearing about Innisfree 30 million times to think about Maggie Stiefvater and her creations.

But, anyways. Back to the book.

Gansey hung up the phone at the end of last chapter, but somehow he’s back on it, talking to Adam again. He wants Adam to come with him to some fundraising party his mother is throwing, since Adam might find a political internship or something equally as snakey to do with his time. Gansey’s trying to placate Adam’s confusing rules about when he is and isn’t allowed to accept help while also unrolling an enormous satellite map of Henrietta, and it’s proving difficult, to say the least.

For some weird reason, though, everything seems to be going okay at Monmouth. Adam agrees to go to the party, Gansey gets his map pressed flat, Ronan and Noah are dropping expensive things out of second floor windows. And then, as if that wasn’t good enough, Adam asks Gansey for help with Blue. Specifically her whole hang-up on kissing—why won’t she do it? Is it Adam? Has she talked to Gansey at all, and if she hasn’t, could Gansey bring up the subject gracefully and see what’s up?

“I’m really bad at talking, Gansey,” Adam said earnestly. “And you’re really good at it. Maybe—maybe if it just comes up natural?”

I don’t know if you remember, but in the last book Blue and Gansey had a conversation that seemed to be about nothing but kissing. Gansey has the whole story but it’s a secret story that’s not his to tell. He does his best to skirt around the definition of a lie, but it would be a really bad idea to say “yes we’ve talked about it but no I’m not telling you what she said” to your emotionally vulnerable and deeply insecure friend. It would actually transcend really bad and be firmly in the realm of disastrous.

And also, Gansey has a very obvious thing for Blue, and it’s hard for teenage boys to rationalize those feelings. And Gansey still is a teenage boy, no matter how many times he’s described as being an old man. And then there’s this:

“Well, she’s not really like a girl. I mean, sure, she’s a girl. But it’s not like when I was dating someone. It’s Blue. 

Oh, Gansey. This is going to pose such a problem in the future.

The rest of the chapter is consumed with Noah’s righteous anger at being thrown out the window by Ronan (“you’re already dead!”) and questions of whether or not Adam has a red tie to wear to Gansey’s mother’s fundraiser. It’s all very short, and sweet, and it makes me wary. What’s going to explode next?

Thoughts and Feelings:

Although I have to be at the train station in an hour and am therefore glad this chapter was short, I don’t really understand why it wasn’t rolled into the previous one?

Like, okay, I get that Dollar City was a setting for a phone call touched by magic. And this call is distinctly non-magical; in fact, it pertains to everything that I forgot was going on in the Gangsey’s lives because I was too focused on the magic. But it’s suspended in time. I have no idea when this chapter takes place. Is it the same night? Is it several days later? It feels like you could pick up these four pages and plunk them anywhere else in the novel and they’d work just fine.

And I’m not saying I don’t understand the impulse to put them in. I totally get it! I, too, love the background noise of Ronan and Noah breaking expensive things for fun, and who wouldn’t want to throw their dead friend out a window? But to have a cliffhanger (stated by Noah, of all people) lead into a chapter like this is distinctly unsatisfying. It leaves the same taste in my mouth as a chapter about the Gray Man does: okay, that was nice, now what?

I’m not denying the fact that towards the end of the book I’ll be begging for chapters like these. I’ll be like, “boo hoo, where are soft moments with my boys where things are cute and Ronan is engaging in destruction of property?” But for now, I’m spoiled and I want something different.

So apologies for such lackluster thoughts, but I’m only as good as my source material. It was nice, but nothing special.

Best Character Moment:

Blue was a fanciful but sensible thing, like a platypus, or one of those sandwiches that had been cut into circles for a fancy tea party.

Best Turn of Phrase:

Once, he had dreamt that he found Glendower. It wasn’t the actual finding, but the day after. He wouldn’t forget the sensation of the dream. It hadn’t been joy, but instead, the absence of pain. He couldn’t forget that lightness. The freedom.

Action: I said it once and I’ll say it again: Noah gets thrown out of a window!!! 5/10

Magic: Absolutely none, except that Noah doesn’t die upon defenestration. 2/10

Comic Relief: A soft kind of funny that I was mad at but have come to appreciate. 6/10

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.09


Will I always be a little late posting these now? Yes. That’s just who I am as a person. Does that stop me from getting excited to talk about a beautiful bottle episode chapter in which Gansey, Ronan, and Noah terrorize a dollar store cashier? No, of course not.

Last chapter, Adam and Blue had a fight and then Cabeswater sent Adam an image. For this new scene, we’re teleported to Dollar City, where Gansey receives a phone call. Southern dollar stores have such a distinct aura to them. I’m not sure how to describe it, but I’ve spent enough time messing around in Dollar Generals in South Carolina looking for the perfect thing to spend my single dollar bill on to know it’s something else. Our boys and their slightly domesticated bird definitely belong there, that’s all I have to say.

We’re given a beautiful portrait of all the things you can buy at this Dollar City: animal shaped erasers, notebooks with guns on them, a clock shaped like a turkey (upon discovery, Gansey says “mon dieu” and it’s probably the worst thing he’s ever said).

But the whole reason they’re in the store is because Ronan’s angry and this is how to distract him. The only problem is that now Gansey’s on the phone and all that does is stoke Ronan’s anger:

But tonight, under the fluorescent lights of Dollar City, Gansey’s hair was scuffed and his cargo shorts were a greasy ruin from mucking over the Pig. He was barelegged and sockless in his boat shoes and very clearly a real human, an attainable human, and this, somehow, made Ronan want to smash his fist through a wall.

Like okay, I get it, we’re all in love with Gansey and need his OOTDs and want him to kiss us all the time… stop being so mad about it.

We spend a lot of time alternating between Ronan eavesdropping on the Gansey side of the phone conversation and musing about Kavinsky or longing to go back to the Barns and be with his family. The only thing that can break that spell is Noah, appearing with a snow globe full of glitter like a ghost in shining armor.

And then, a revelation: remember how Adam’s rent got changed to reflect exactly the raising of his tuition? And how he immediately blamed Gansey, and was so mad about it? Yeah, it was Ronan.

If Adam had been thinking straight, though, he would’ve considered how it was Ronan who had infinite connections to St. Agnes. And how whoever was behind the rent change would have had to enter a church office with both a wad of cash and a burning intention to persuade a church lady to lie about a fake tax assessment. Taken apart this way, in seemed to have Ronan written all over it. But one of the marvelous things about being Ronan Lynch was that no one ever expected him to do anything nice for anyone.

The emotional ramifications of this admission are cleverly avoided when Noah blinks out of existence, dropping the glitter filled snow globe and freaking everyone out in the process. He reemerges from the void quickly enough, grabbing onto Ronan and using all his body heat as energy. Ghost Noah is always to chill and cuddly that it’s easy to forget he’s the spirit of a murder victim and therefore inherently unpredictable.

Noah’s explanation is that they ley line just disappeared. The apparition Adam saw in his apartment corroborates that story: something funky is going on. And then, in classic Stiefvater ending, Noah tells Ronan he knows where the anger comes from, and when Ronan asks what he knows Noah is like “it’s not my job to tell other people’s secrets” which, like, okay I guess? But it’s such an annoying way to end a chapter because it’s just not addressed and is also very frustrating. The end.

Thoughts and Feelings:

I’ve come to the conclusion that I love this chapter’s ambiance but I don’t necessarily like its contents. I love the idea of the Gangsey in a dollar store just messing around while the clerk wonders why the hell they brought a raven pretending to be a pet, but the reality of it—the ley line disappearing and the fact that they’re always being so weird about Adam—makes the whole scene less enjoyable than you think it would be.

Like, okay, let’s talk about Adam. Every single time he’s mentioned in a scene, whoever’s point of view it is dedicates at least a paragraph to talking about how different he is after the sacrifice. How he’s something “other,” that they don’t know how to deal with anymore. First of all, did they ever know how to deal with Adam? They treated him like just as much of a mystery in the first book, and there wasn’t even a dream forest in the equation. Secondly, so what if he’s different than everyone else? Ronan pulls things out of his dreams, Blue is a human battery, Gansey died and came back to life, and Noah died and is still dead. But yeah, sure, I’ll believe that Adam’s the one who just doesn’t fit in anymore.

I don’t know why it makes me so frustrated. Actually, yeah, I do know why. It’s because it’s chapter nine and we’re still sitting around talking about how we don’t understand what’s going on with Adam yet, meanwhile not once have they gone to Cabeswater and, I don’t know, asked. We get the feeling that it’s been weeks since the bargain was made, and yet nobody seems interested in doing anything but speculating about it.

But I’m tired of being indignant, so I want to end on some happy feelings: the warm and fuzzies I got when Noah held up the glitter snow globe to Ronan and everyone looked at it in wonder. Thank you and good night.

Best Character Moment:

Noah made a rude gesture, a hilariously unthreatening act coming from him, like a growl from a kitten.

Best Turn of Phrase:

Chainsaw let out a terrible creaking sound.

She cried, “Kerah!”

He laid a frozen hand over her head, comforting her, though he was not comforted.

Action: Absolutely none, unless you count dropping a snow globe. 3/10

Magic: Noah, being both a real boy and a ghost, all in the same chapter? Amazing. 10/10

Comic Relief: Also Noah- amazing!!!! 12/10!!!!!!!!

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.extra (How I Write a Chapter Review)

Hi, and welcome to “Emily gets bored of reviewing chapters and goes looking for other self-indulgent content.” I’m your host, Bored Emily, and I’m here to talk you through how I go about writing each TRC Reread post. I’ve done this upwards of 55 times, so I’d like to say I have it down to a science, but I really don’t.

There’s a couple different style of chapters that you’ll find in The Raven Cycle, some more common than others, and after the standard first look process I go through with every chapter, they mandate different processes and styles of writing. I’m going to do my best to talk about the process overall, as well as go into a little more depth about three distinct styles of chapter you can find in Stiefvater’s writing.

Post-It Noting

Before I even crack open the word document where I write all of the chapter reviews, I go through the chapter with a pen and a stack of post-it notes. This is partially for me–I discovered that if I went straight into summary I wasn’t enjoying the content–and partially because without getting a sense of the chapter as a whole, the reviews were really top-heavy and unfocused. I spent a lot of time talking about what was going on at the beginning and then ran out of steam by the end, and there was no understanding of the chapter as a whole narrative unit.

I drop a comment whenever I see something that might be a good quote for the ratings at the end, or when I notice something interesting or dumb. A lot of it is just me cheering on Blue whenever she does something sassy.

They’re helpful because a lot of the time I’ll be tired of writing once I get to Thoughts and Feelings, and that sucks because I do have a lot of those during the first pass at a chapter, I just forget them while I’m summarizing. Being able to go back through and scan for notes not only jogs the old memory but also creates a process of inherent revision: I get to tweak the original post-it idea into something that makes a little more sense and flows better in whatever section of the review it’s going in.

the fun thing about post-its is that they can be helpful, cute, or so unnecessary I don’t even want to address them

The timing varies; I sometimes do this right before I jump into a review, and sometimes I’m too lazy to write so I just get a couple weeks ahead on post-it noting. There’s pros and cons to both methods; fresh eyes can be good but if I wait too long I might have no idea what the hell I was trying to say.

Whether or not anything on the Post-Its makes sense, after I’m finished marking up a chapter I have to jump into summary and review. This process is pretty different for each type of chapter, so I’m gonna go through them one by one.

Short Villainous Interludes

Stiefvater likes to throw in a word from our resident bad guy every couple of chapters. I was more against this in Raven Boys because I didn’t like the villain, and less so in Dream Thieves because the Gray Man has a sense of humor. But regardless of the character, Short Villainous Interludes have a couple of key characteristics: 1) They’re less than 5 pages, 2) They feed the reader 1-2 important nuggets of information that the Gangsey doesn’t know about yet, and 3) For the first 2/3 of the book there is little to no emotional weight to them.

These are easy to bang out because there’s very little plot to cover. The summaries are quick and consist mostly of me just making fun of people, and my thoughts and feelings are most generally something in the realm of “ugh” and “this is not as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

Where I run into trouble, sometimes, is the ratings. I’m supposed to pick out a character moment and a turn of phrase, but often these chapters are so short I’m left feeling like I’ve already copied the entire thing in quotations. But while that feels morally wrong, it’s not the worst thing. I wasn’t lying when I said these chapters are, at most, five pages. It’s not a lot to be copying down.

Bottle Episodes

This term comes officially from television, when, to save money on sets and extras (and maybe for the writers to do an in-depth character study, but this feels like wishful thinking on my part) there is an entire episode spent in one place. Think “The One Where No One is Ready” from Friends.

What I mean when I talk about books is a chapter where the Gangsey and/or the women of Fox Way are hanging out in one place and talking. This could have emotional weight or be important to the plot, but it could also be utter nonsense. The key to these chapters is that we’re learning about the characters and there’s not a lot going on besides a lot of hilarious side comments I want to include but don’t have room for.

Posts about these chapters end up being far too long and enormously over analyzed because I’m having such a good time learning about and gently making fun of my favorite characters. I write them fast and I mourn them when they’re over.

Long Emotional Rollercoasters

These chapters are exactly what they sound like. They usually involve Adam Parrish or Ronan Lynch and their complicated pasts. Whenever I skip a post or take time off, it’s usually because I ran up against one of these and the work just isn’t that fun anymore.

That’s not to say that these chapters aren’t good–they are, and they’re enormously important, and this series would be absolutely nothing without them. It’s just that there’s so much going on with these characters that I don’t feel qualified to talk about, or that shouldn’t be lightheartedly addressed, and it takes a long time for me to figure out how to go about them. And on top of that, these chapters tend to be the longest in terms of word count, so there’s another reason they come out much slower than the others.

On the plus side, they’re usually the ones where I spent far too much time agonizing over which sections to quote simply because they’re full of words put together in such a lovely way. It’s just that they often talk about such unlovely subjects, and it makes me feel a lot of feelings.

To Sum Up:

There are other kinds of chapters you find in these books, but the three detailed above are the most common. I might do another post later on the other kind, but I also might not. I’ve learned not to promise anything, since I’m so bad at keeping up with anything during the school term.

I’ve wanted to make a post like this for a while, so I’m glad it’s finally happening! I might start including pictures of my post-its in the actual chapter reviews, since frankly that and the summary are my favorite two parts of the process and I’m doing this primarily for me, so why wouldn’t I enjoy myself?

If you have any suggestions for this process, or just think you know a better way and want to tell me about it, please do! I’ve bankrupted myself on post-its and fancy pens, and would welcome an alternative!

(thanks for reading, see you soon, etc.)

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.08


Hello and welcome to a segment I like to call Emily Posts a Day Late Because She Was Visiting a Small Irish Seaside Town! Apologies from both me and the friends I walked around with, but it was very beautiful and pictures will be included in a life update probably none of you will want to read in the coming weeks, but. A consolation, I guess? Now, back to Virginia.

Finally, finally, we return to Adam Parrish: our boy of the perpetual self-loathing and beautiful bone structure. Not only am I excited to hear about the aftermath of the sacrifice from the character himself, but we finally get to figure out where he’s living! It’s a room in a church called St. Agnes, and I love that for Adam. Long live St. Agnes, Adam’s IKEA mattress, and his cardboard box bedside table set.

He doesn’t spend nearly enough time in his apartment, though, because he’s too busy working three jobs so that during the year he has any small amount of time to do his homework. It sounds like everything with him is pretty fraught, and it gets even more so once he sees Blue waiting for him on the stairs to his apartment.

Blue was pretty in a way that was physically painful to him. He was attracted to her like a heart attack.

My astute summary at this point in the chapter is that Adam is far too stressed and horny, and he needs both a long nap and a girlfriend who can kiss him without accidentally killing him, neither of which he will be getting any time soon.

After an OOTD and some complaints about how Blue is too considerate of Adam’s feelings and it’s annoying, we move into the awkward conversation portion of the chapter. It lasts a reasonable amount of time, in which Blue and Adam dance around each other verbally and are both clearly baffled by the fact that they have no idea what to say or do. Adam does something that, in any normal circumstance, would be perfect: he touches Blue’s face, hugs her, and then moves in for the kiss.

Of course, this is Blue we’re talking about. She freaks out and has some reasonable points: why isn’t her desire to not kiss Adam enough? Why does he need a reason? I can see it from both sides, but more on that later. For now, we have to talk about how Adam gets into the shower as an avoidance tactic and leaves Blue to hang out until he’s done.

This is when Cabeswater reintroduces itself:

From inside the sloped old shower, he caught a half-image of himself in the mirror and startled. For a moment something about his own reflection had seemed wrong. His wide eyes and gaunt face peered back at him, troubled but not unusual.

And just like that, he was thinking of Cabeswater again.

In short, Adam thinks about Cabeswater all the time. It’s because he knows he made a sacrifice but he doesn’t know what the specificities entail, except that sometimes things feel or look strange. He gets images, or things look weird, and then he wonders what’s going on with him. Frankly, I don’t get why everyone is so certain that he’s something “other” (Gansey is literally a walking zombie, if you want to get technical), but okay. I get it. Something weird is happening and I don’t want to be dismissive about it.

But real life rears its head with a vengeance in the form of a lovely lady who works for the church. She tells Blue and Adam that because of a “tax reassessment,” his rent is much lower than it otherwise would be. Curiously, that matches up with the exact amount that Aglionby has raised his tuition. He’s mad at Gansey, even though he has no proof that it was him, and there are all kinds of complicated emotions.

I don’t feel super qualified to talk about Adam’s relationship to/struggles with money because I haven’t experienced this extent of financial insecurity in my life, so I don’t want to make snarky comments about this section of the chapter or express my annoyance at his refusal to accept help. I’m not sure how I would feel in Adam’s situation, and that makes me lucky. Now let’s move on.

Gansey isn’t there for Adam to be mad at so he takes it out on Blue. We’ve all spent a significant amount of time with Blue, so we know how she’d react, and she doesn’t disappoint. The argument is short and furious and ends with Adam kicking his cardboard-box bedside table across the room.

Blue gives a self-righteous speech and goes to sit outside, leaving Adam inside to compare himself to his father.

After a moment, he calmed down enough to see how his anger was a separate thing inside of him, a dingy, surprise gift from his father. He calmed down enough to remember that if he waited long enough, carefully analyzing how it felt, the emotion would lose its inertia. It was the same as physical pain. The more he tried to mentally decide what made pain hurt, the less his brain seemed able to remember the pain at all.

He thinks of anger as an inheritance, and himself as a monster right down to the strands of his DNA. He’s working three jobs and studying and paying for his whole life by himself, and also participating in the hunt for Glendower because he wants that favor. He thinks that he needs an old Welsh king so that he can be fixed.

And then, Cabeswater again. Another image. And the end of the chapter.

Thoughts and Feelings:

I wait so long for chapters about Adam, and then when they come I procrastinate this part so much. Writing about Adam is hard. I don’t know how Stiefvater does it—she manages to write this boy who not only has such a strict personal code and set of rules and goals for himself, but doesn’t understand the emotions behind these rules or what he wants from his future. I find it nearly impossible to talk about without feeling as though I’m trivializing it somehow. I don’t want to make Adam small, not only because he’s such a large character, but because he’s already been made small by so many people, himself included.

And then there’s the way this chapter functions as the beginning of the end for Adam and Blue’s romantic relationship. The scene where Adam caresses her face and goes in for this kiss is, for starters, fantastic. I’ve decided, for the first time, to insert an illustrative meme below.

y.a. kisses

The yearning!!!!!!!!!!!

But also, if Blue just trusted Adam enough to explain to him what’s going on, he wouldn’t be acting like this. Blue has to know how willing Adam is to think it’s because there’s something wrong with him. And this is when we get into a complicated question of consent: it should 100% be enough for Blue to simply say no. But in a committed relationship, there should also be a discussion that follows this statement. Under no circumstances should Adam be coercive, or shame Blue for making this choice. But there needs to be an honest conversation, at least, if both of them want to continue with a relationship.

But she doesn’t trust him enough. Or she’s embarrassed, or shy, or just sixteen and stupid. Whatever reason, this is the definitive beginning of the end for them as a romantic pairing. While I think it’s for the best, I’m always going to mourn it a little here because it ended badly. Because it forces them to be awkward around each other, when they are capable of being such fantastic friends. It’s frustrating, especially when it becomes just another reason for Adam to liken himself to his father.

But at least towards the end of the chapter we get back to the discussion of Cabeswater, and the magic. Yes, please, get everyone in the same place. Yes, please, let that place be a magical forest with talking trees. But that’s for next time.

Best Character Moment:

Want and need were words that got eaten smaller and smaller: freedom, autonomy, a perennial bank balance, a stainless-steel condo in a dustless city, a silky black car, to make out with Blue, eight hours of sleep, a cell phone, to kiss Blue just once, a blister-less heel, bacon for breakfast, to hold Blue’s hand, one hour of sleep, toilet paper, deodorant, a soda, a minute to close his eyes.

What do you want, Adam?

To feel awake when my eyes are open.

Best Turn of Phrase:

That might have been good enough, if he hadn’t known what else was out there. If he hadn’t grown up next to Aglionby Academy. If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.

Action: There was a fight, but it was all words and it made me sad. 4/10

Magic: Besides allowing Adam to catch a couple of images, magic has only done damage!! It is so rude. 4/10

Comic Relief: I’m sticking with a theme here. 4/10

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.07


The first thing we learn in this chapter is that, unlike me, Stiefvater really likes cars. She liked to talk about how different people drive different cars and what that says about them, except she often says it in a way that only people who also like cars understand. So here I am, reading a paragraph about the Gray Man strongly disliking a rental car because it doesn’t drive fast and also it keeps trying to bite him…?

I have an image in my head of Lightning McQueen going “kerchow” and then taking a bite out of the Gray Man in my head, and frankly, I want it gone. Let’s move on from this paragraph with only the understanding that the Gray Man wishes he’d rented a better car.

But, hooray! We move onto something I love! Aggressive suburbia. I don’t mean to always have heart eyes when I talk about cookie-cutter America, because it has a lot of problems, but it also has pizzerias and local diners and tiny public libraries that always carry the sequels and not the first book. It’s so charmingly ineffectual and easy to love. The Gray Man is not as easily swayed, but that’s a character trait I’m willing to forgive since he named his car the Champagne Monstrosity, which is a great name for a car that you love to hate. My very large minivan was called the White Whale, and it never did anything right and I cried when it got scrapped.

I just realized I haven’t said anything about the plot yet, so here we go: the Gray Man is looking for the Graywaren using electronic doodads procured by Colin Greenmantle, and because he hasn’t found anything he stopped for a tuna fish sandwich (tuna fish is the best lunch meat and I’ll fight you on that).

The power goes out while he’s eating and he’s curious, because he has the type of analytical mind that Barrington Whelk did not have.  He’s like, hmm. I wonder what that could mean? And then the tuna fish lady tells him it means nothing, that the power goes out and comes back on all the time, but the Gray Man doesn’t believe her! Good sleuthing, Gray Man.

The tuna fish lady is very talkative, so we learn about how the Aglionby Boys shoot off probably illegal fireworks on the Fourth of July (which the Gray Man has to pull up a “mental calendar” to figure out… okay sir) and how she hates one boy in particular. You know, the one who drives a white Mistubishi and spends 95% of his time taking pills and harassing the very magical being the Gray Man is looking for. But the Gray Man doesn’t know that, so he finishes his tuna fish, keeps driving, and gets a very important call.

The phone rang only twice. Missed call. His brother had never intended for him to pick up; he merely wanted this: the Gray Man stopping the car, wondering if he was supposed to return the call. Wondering if his brother was going to call back. Untangling the wired threads in his gut.

Now, I don’t remember this next part, and I’ve read this book probably upwards of five times. In fact, the post-it note I placed last night in my overview chapter says, quote, “I don’t remember this part but it’s eerie and I do not like it.” Strap in, kids, it’s gonna get weird.

The electronic doodads are going crazy over something, and upon investigation we discover it’s because of this field of dead plants, at the center of which is a rose “growing itself to death.” Here’s the thing: I’ve been reading this same passage for like ten minutes, and I read it a bunch of times last night, and I can’t for the life of me picture what this is supposed to look like.

Above an ordinary green trunk, dozens of twisted shoots clawed from the old canes, contorting tightly around one another. Each mutated cane was tinged the florid red of new growth; it looked eerily as if blood ran through them. The new shoots bristled with malevolent red spines.

The ultimate result of this furious growth was apparent in the blackened knot of branches above. Dead. The rose was growing itself to death.

Do with that what you will.

He opens up a well, which is located behind the creepy death rose, and his electric doodads go absolutely insane and then fully quiet. It’s a pickle, but one that the Grey Man intends to solve. He heads back to the Champagne Monstrosity and gets the hell out of dodge.

Thoughts and Feelings:

I really do appreciate the Gray Man. He’s doing the sleuthing for me and letting me add my own information, whereas when it was Whelk I felt like I was doing all the detective work and he was just thinking about guacamole. I know he’s an assassin who’s hunting our favorite snake (who happens to be named Ronan Lynch and takes the shape of a cute Irish boy), but, I don’t know. We’ve all made some weird career choices. I know people I like very much who have jobs with Wall Street banking companies, and even though killing people isn’t the same thing as being a banker, I’m still finding redeeming qualities in the Gray Man.

Not the least of which is that he reminds me of Blue. I’d like to draw your attention to the adventures of the Gray Man and his tuna fish sandwich, at a restaurant which claims it has the best tuna in town.

The tuna fish was good. It was the only one he’d had since he arrived, however, so he couldn’t say whether it was the best in town.

Just a few pages ago, Blue was talking about the ethics of Nino’s proclamation that they have the best iced tea in town. Now, okay, I know it’s a stretch: a five-foot environmentally conscious teenager and an Old English professor turned hit man are not usually similar people. But if you can call “being skeptical about restaurants saying they have the best type of food or drink” a character trait, then they share at least one character trait.

I’m probably reading into it because I have nothing else to say about this chapter. I don’t know how any of it ties into the large plot because, like I mentioned, I don’t remember it happening. But next chapter, we get to hear from Adam, and I do remember that one. It’s a doozy! I can’t wait.

Best Character Moment:

The Gray Man was impressed with the deep wrongness of it.

Best Turn of Phrase:

Henrietta had considerable charms. The downtown was populated by daintily greasy sandwich shops and aggressively down-home junk shops, swaybacked porches and square columns, all of the buildings tired but tidy as library books. He peered through the car window as he passed by. Locals on chairs on porches peered back.

Action: A pretty good sandwich and a rose with a death wish… call it Fast and Furious 8: tuna fish drift. 5/10

Magic: Magic isn’t always benevolent! Even the most friendly-seeming magic can turn dark at any moment! Woohoo! 8/10

Comic Relief: The Gray Man’s internal monologue is funny, yeah, but without some outside intervention it’s getting a bit stale. 7/10

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.06


We start the chapter off having been thrown, rather abruptly, back into the thick of things at 300 Fox Way. And by “the thick of things,” I mean that Blue is getting ready for work and calling her cousin a phone tramp. I don’t know if that’s slang I’m missing or if it’s just a thing Blue likes to say, but either way I’m just happy to be included.

The argument stems from the fact that Blue is the only one in the family who doesn’t have to man the psychic phone line they run because, well, she’s just not a psychic. And apparently she’s now not the only one who gets an OOTD, since we hear all about Orla’s loud, skintight top and bellbottom jeans.

Blue’s inferiority complex is in full swing, too, since she’s a) not a psychic, b) much shorter than Orla, and c) the fact that Orla is cool without trying and she herself is only cool after Maximum Effort. But despite all of this (cousinly?) rivalry, I really do love watching Blue interact with other young people. Especially when they’re not Raven Boys, and especially when they’re ladies. Blue has too much teenage masculine energy and just the right amount of middle-aged feminine energy. Our girl needs some friends her own age, preferably that aren’t magic and obsessed with a dead Welsh king. You know, to balance things out.

But Orla is being annoying about Blue’s job and her lack of psychic ability and she has to go to work. But in trying to get Maura to intervene, she gets herself into a single card reading. It’s the page of cups. It’s always the page of cups, because in Maura’s deck, the picture on the card looks like Blue.

In this deck, the art was of a fresh-faced young person holding a jewel-studded goblet. The suit of cups represented relationships—love and friendship—and the page stood for new and budding possibilities. This particular bedtime story was one Blue had heard too many times before. She could anticipate exactly what her mother was going to say next: Look at all the potential she holds inside her!

Blue cut her off. “When does the potential start being a real thing?”

It all boils down to this: Blue doesn’t want to be a sidekick forever. I want to sit her down and show her the movie Sky High, a masterpiece in which high schoolers with superpowers are split up into “Heroes” and “Sidekicks” and when the supervillain turns all the adults into babies, it’s the sidekicks who end up saving the day and abolishing the distinction forever. I don’t know if that would make her feel better, but it is pertinent to the situation and it’s a pretty good movie.

Orla is too busy being a real asshole to watch anything, though; she keeps repeating Blue’s words back to her in a bad version of Gansey’s accent and making everyone involved self-conscious.

But it’s okay! Because when she gets to work, guess who’s already waiting for her? Yes, that’s right. It’s her boys ❤ And Blue looks at them and thinks about them and in a very heartfelt moment, she realizes that when she’s with them, she’s totally herself. It’s an amazing internal monologue and also very cute. But, back to the Gangsey:

Blue brought a pitched of iced tea to the table. “What’s that?”

“Jane!” Gansey said joyfully.

Adam said, “It’s a wizard in a box.”

“It will do your homework,” Noah added.

“And it’s been dating your girlfriend,” Ronan finished.


Blue does her job for a bit and, as she waits tables, gets the real explanation of the box and a demonstration of its powers. There’s also a moment where Adam touches her wrist and she gets mad at herself for not knowing what to do in response, and to that I would like to say: COMMUNICATE. It’s totally reasonable to be like “hey, I like when you do that, but I don’t know what to do back. What do you like?” Conversations are always a good idea and are necessary in any healthy relationship!!

Back to the story: Blue gets the chance to operate the box herself, and compares it to Gansey’s journal. She spends a split second attracted to Ronan’s mind, but it’s fleeting because I think she has an inkling about the gay elephant in the pizzeria. She’s just attracted to lavishly academic objects, it’s her thing. She couldn’t help herself.

This soap bubble of almost-attractedness pops when Blue accuses Ronan of knowing what the last language on the box is and he snaps at her.

It was true that this sort of venom was not unusual from Ronan. But it had been a very long while since it had been used so forcefully on Blue. She drew herself up, everything prickling.

Then Gansey said, very slowly, “Ronan, you’re never going to talk to Jane like that again.”

Blue, unconsciously flattered, lets Gansey know she can fight her own battles before heading to the hostess stand to seat a party. Little did she know, she’d have to be fighting a battle by herself almost immediately, because the person waiting to be seated is Kavinsky.

Let me tell you, this chapter is really raising the bar for who gets an OOTD. We hear all about his sunglasses and 2000s era spiked hair and his gross white tank top. Frankly, it sounds like he’s cosplaying as a character from the Sopranos, but I guess it’s supposed to be scary? At least Blue is, understandably, scared. He has a reputation for being able to procure pills or orchestrate violence for anyone with a couple bucks, and, well, he’s gross. Exhibit A:

“Hey, baby doll,” he greeted Blue. He was already standing too close, moving restlessly. He was always moving. There was something erratic and vulgar about the full line of his lips, like he’d swallow her if he got close enough.

Blue lets him know that she is not, in fact, his baby doll, but he doesn’t even pay attention. He’s on a mission to insult Ronan and co., and Blue is just in his way. There’s some talk about how Blue hates him for simultaneously ignoring her and treating her like shit, and also herself for caring. I’m here to jump in and say screw that mentality! That’s the patriarchy talking. Blue being like, “wow I hate myself for knowing he’s going to treat me like shit and yet still expecting basic human decency from him” is understandable but should be addressed and subsequently squashed. It’s not dumb for girls (or anyone, but in this case we’re talking about girls Blue’s age) to expect to be treated like people. /rant over

I’d try to describe what Kavinsky does to each individual Gangsey member, but it’s just way easier to put a quote in here, so excuse my laziness.

Kavinsky headed directly towards the large table in the back, and the postures of all the other boys changed drastically. Adam looked at the table with a studied disinterest. Smudgy Noah ducked his head down into his shoulders, but couldn’t take his eyes off the newcomer. Gansey stood, leaning against the table, and there was something threatening rather than respectful about it. Ronan, however, was the one who had transformed the most. Though his casual position—arms crossed—remained the same, his shoulders were knotted with visible tension. Something about his eyes was ferocious and alive in the same way that they had been when he’d launched the plane in the field.

Friendship, solidarity, gay tension. What more could you ask for?

Kavinsky only came over so he could give Ronan a bunch of leather bracelets that look exactly like the ones he already has on his wrists, which is wrong on so many levels (wait for thoughts and feelings, guys, this summary is too long already). He touches Ronan’s head without asking and then bounces, and everyone feels gross and inadequate. End scene.

Thoughts and Feelings:

This chapter is so Blue-centric and it makes me a happy bean. There’s so much to love about Blue, most of all that she’s complicated and self-aware, and this chapter showcases those traits really well. From what I remember her relationship with Orla continues to be contentious and hilarious throughout the rest of the book, and I’m excited about that. As for the rest of the chapter, there are some scenes that I want to break down and feel some feelings about.

First off, Ronan’s reaction to Blue. I’m not going to pretend to know exactly what Stiefvater was doing there, but from my perspective, the scene serves as a reminder that to Ronan, Blue is an add-on to the group, and to Gansey she’s a full member. It also differentiates Adam’s reaction from Ganseys: Gansey goes after Ronan immediately in a way that protects Blue, whereas Adam just calls Ronan a dick once Blue leaves.

We can take this two different ways. First, we can see the immediacy of Gansey’s reaction as proof that he cares more about Blue, or is at least more willing to stand up to Ronan on her behalf. Second, we can look Adam and say he was consciously letting Blue handle it herself because he knows that’s what she would want. I don’t know which one I think is true, or if it’s even an either/or situation. But the reason I wanted to talk about this scene is that I don’t think I’m fully behind its purpose.

We just spent a whole book doing the whole “Blue integrates herself as a group member” thing. Ronan told her one of the biggest secrets he’s ever kept at the end! And, okay, trust is an ongoing process, but I don’t think I understand why we need to revisit it? And then for Gansey to step in and be so firmly On Blue’s Side, and everyone else to be uncomfortable about both what he said and how he said it? And then there’s the sense of ownership that Gansey exerts over Ronan… I just don’t see what purpose the whole moment serves. It’s always made me just a little bit uncomfy, and that feeling is only intensified when I come at it from a critical angle.

Moving on to the very next page, where Blue describes Kavinsky. I just wanted to point out that when you compare her description to Ronan’s, there are some similarities but also a couple of key differences. They both use adjectives that have some connotation of emptiness and danger, but Blue’s focused on the fact that Kavinsky is so clearly Other. Ronan still calls him “hollow-eyed,” yes, but he’s also “innocent.”

I know I’ve been going on and on about hints that Ronan’s gay, and yeah, there’s some of that there. But there’s also the understanding that Ronan sees himself in Kavinsky in a way that nobody else does, and while that’s both more important and more explicit later, it starts here. I don’t know, I just think it’s cool to point out the trail of breadcrumbs Stiefvater leaves, and how good she is at perspective switching.

And then, lastly, the “real meaning” of the bracelets that Kavinsky gives to Ronan. When I first read these books, I was definitely a naïve child and didn’t get what was going on here, so I want to talk about it just in case you breezed over these hints. There’s reference in the first book to Noah finding Ronan in some sort of trouble, and that’s why Gansey and Adam look for him so frantically when he’s gone. It’s never stated outright, but I think it’s reasonable to infer that Gansey perceived it to be a suicide attempt. Now, though, given what we know about Ronan and the danger of his nightmares, I think it’s safe to say that whatever the bracelets are covering probably weren’t self-inflicted.

Not only is Kavinsky observant enough to get the bracelets exactly correct (*ahem* he’s watching Ronan very carefully), but fixating on the bracelets is an interesting choice, given everything I just said in the last paragraph. Because this is from Blue’s perspective, she doesn’t know any of this, but her pointing this out is like a neon sign from the author saying “SHE DOESN’T KNOW BUT YOU DO! THINK ABOUT IT!!!!!!”

So, I thought about it and I felt about it. See y’all next time, for another Gray Man chapter!

Best Character Moment:

She was less surprised than most people would have been to discover it was a magical translating box. She was more surprised to discover the boys had possessed the forethought to bring the other dictionaries.

Best Turn of Phrase:

Ever since she was small, she’d loved the ritual of a single card reading. Unlike the elaborate Celtic cross tarot spreads her mother usually did for her clients, the single card reading she did for Blue was playful, fond, and brief. It wasn’t so much a clairvoyant experience as a thirty-second bedtime story where Blue was always the hero.

Action: The only weapon used in this chapter were words. They hurt, but they’re not so good for the excitement factor, you know? 7/10

Magic: The magic puzzle box was cooler in the last chapter, honestly. 4/10

Comic Relief: Love when a chapter can get me discussing the patriarchy and also describe a magical object as being able to do your homework and steal your girlfriend. 9/10

The Raven Cycle Reread: 2.05


Seeing that Ronan and the Gray Man have a good little POV hand-off going on right now, there seems to be no good reason to break it up. When we reenter our plot we’re back in Ronan’s head, just after a dream. We catch him just as he wakes up, just in time for him to describe the dream he just had.

All it was is a drive home, the twists and turns back to Ronan’s house a couple towns over. But it contains this mess of a tragic backstory. In Niall Lynch’s will, he stipulated that while his sons got all the money they could possibly want, they weren’t allowed to set foot inside their home. And since their mother, who went to sleep after their father died and never woke back up, wasn’t going to fight it in court, neither was Declan.

The Lynch brothers were wealthy, princes of Virginia, but they were exiles. All of the money was theirs, but on one condition: the boys were never to set foot on the property again. They were to disturb neither the house nor its contents.

Including their mother.

And this is why Ronan hates his brother.

But the dream gave him an object this time, a strange, wooden box that seems to translate words from one language to another. And while this is a marvelous object, and so is the plane, Ronan reminds us that taking a nightmare out of his head is just as likely as taking a dream. And, well, Ronan’s kind of messed up. If you hadn’t noticed. His nightmares are, if possible, even more messed up. Like, messed up enough to have claws, and teeth, and bloodlust.

Anyways, Ronan goes to get Gansey because they have the most pure and heartbreaking friendship of them all. Exhibit A:

Ronan and Gansey both suffered from insomnia, although they had very different solutions for it… Neither could really help the other find sleep. But sometimes it was better just to know you weren’t the only one awake.

Exhibit B: the long and lovely description we get about how often we see the two of them like this, tired but unable to sleep, standing in front of each other on the floor of an abandoned factory. And then we get Ronan remembering how they cleaned up Monmouth. How they burned trash in the parking lot and searched for Glendower and set up their fridge in the upstairs bathroom (FYI, the bathroom fridge is iconic and I’m undeniably right about that).

And then Gansey makes the moment strange and wonderful by shattering the illusion of familiarity and asking Ronan about his dreams. Now that the secret is somewhat out, Ronan seems relieved. He’s happy to tell Gansey about it. We hear about the first time he took something out of his dreams: a bunch of strange flowers that he grabbed while being chased by a nightmare. And that Ronan dreams in Latin, so he doesn’t have to study to do well in the class.

“Is it your—your thoughts that are in Latin? Or the dialogue? Do other people speak Latin in them? Like, I am I in your dreams?” 

“Oh, yes, baby.” It amused Ronan to say this, a lot. He laughed enough that Chainsaw abandoned her paper shredding to verify that he wasn’t dying. Ronan sometimes dreamt of Adam, too, the latter boy sullen and elegant and fluently disdainful of dream-Ronan’s clumsy attempts to communicate.

(That’s a gay hint pass it on!)

Ronan spends some time trying to explain what it feels like to take something out of a dream. It’s a little bit of a self-call about how hard it is to write something, because Gansey is actively rude about all of Ronan’s attempts to tell him how it feels. It’s knowing if someone’s hand will be sweaty before you shake it, it’s getting bitten in a dream and waking up hurt, it’s nonsensical. It’s also magic, and we’re establishing its clear rules and boundaries, so I don’t care what words are used to describe it. I’m happy.

They end up just spending some time looking at the puzzle box Ronan pulled out of his dream. It’s been decided that it’s like a sentient Rosetta’s stone; whatever you input in one language comes out in others. And, even more weird, they’re old languages, one of them unknown even to Gansey. It would be smart to try and figure out which language it is, but hey, they’re tired. Instead, they go get some orange juice.

Thoughts and Feelings:

The first thing I want to do is apologize for being MIA the past couple of weeks. It was the end of my term and I spent most of my time writing papers and finishing projects and, in one case, creating a geological map of the Catskills. Some things had to go for the sake of my GPA, this blog and my rewatch of Glee among them.

Second, I’d like to get into my thoughts and feelings about this chapter. It’s one of the ones that’s easy to forget about but is so amazing because of its closeness and simplicity. It’s two boys, touched by magic, sitting cross-legged in their apartment and trying to figure something out. It all makes me happy: the magic, the easy relationship between the boys, the indulgent sleepiness of their behavior. The elegant Adam that crops up only in Ronan’s dreams.

And then, there’s this:

Just after waking, after dreaming, his body belonged to no one. He looked at it from above, like a mourner at a funeral. The exterior of this early-morning Ronan didn’t look at all like how he felt on the inside. Anything that didn’t impale itself on the sharp line of this sleeping boy’s cruel mouth would be tangled in the merciless hooks of his tattoo, pulled beneath his skin to drown.

This is it. This is why I feel so conflicted about hearing of how sharp and edgy Ronan is. I mean it is partly because it’s played out, but there’s also moments like this, when we’re in his head for ourselves and realize that it’s a mask. We’ve spent an entire book getting to know a defense mechanism instead of a boy, and now that that’s removed, we can get on with his character development.

The last thing I’m going to say is that I don’t think I like this book’s relationship to alcohol. It’s confusing to me now in a way that it wasn’t when I was in high school. Firstly, Ronan says that when he needs to take something out of his dreams, he gets a beer. For some reason, Gansey is very upset about this.

Here’s what I’m thinking: Ronan would not drink beer. He’s a rich and insolent teenager with unlimited money and disdain for everything including himself. He would be reaching for the hard stuff. Quick, effective, and easier than a beer. Cooler, too, and more fitting. And sure, it might be more plausible for a sixteen-year-old to get his hands on beer, but remember that this particular sixteen-year-old has a full back tattoo. He wasn’t allowed to get that, either, and somehow he managed. I think he can get his hands on a handle of vodka.

And then, Gansey’s reaction to his drinking. I don’t understand the “withering look” he gives to Ronan any time alcohol is mentioned. We know for a fact that Gansey drinks, too, and even if it’s in a seemingly healthier way, I don’t see how he has a leg to stand on? As much as he acts like an old man, he’s not old enough to be making his own decisions either. It just seems, from the point of view of an actual teenager who is in college surrounded by people who have complicated relationships to alcohol, to be a bit contrived. But hey, what would I know, I’ve never been a rich teenager in Virginia.

Best Character Moment:

Gansey gave him another look. It was a look that asked how Ronan, of all people, could be so stupid as to think that Gansey would agree to something so illegal on so little sleep.

Ronan said, “so let’s go get some orange juice.”

Gansey considered. He looked to where his keys sat on the desk beside his mint plant. The clock beside it, a repellently ugly vintage number Gansey had found lying in the bin at the dump, said 3:32.

Gansey said, “OK.”

They went and got some orange juice.

Best Turn of Phrase:

“So what you’re saying is you can’t explain it.”

“I did explain it.”

“No, you used nouns and verbs together in a pleasing but illogical format.”

Action: There was a nightmare, but it was a memory and not the real thing. If we were rating sleepy energy, I’d give it a full score, but alas. That isn’t the category. 6/10

Magic: Rules! Ravens! Magic Rubik’s cubes made out of words! Sleepy magical boys! 11/10

Comic Relief: Chainsaw is a physical version of comedic relief with wings. 9/10