I is for Ice

The Final Descent - Rick Yancey


Done for Sockpoppet’s 2014 Reading Challenge I is for Ice—this  book left me cold.


Everyone who’s read the the first three books of The Monstromolugist series knows how the series is going to end.


At the very beginning of the the first book, we already see the person Will Henry has become—he was first introduced to the reader as a deceased patient in a mental ward. He died alone and friendless, raving about imaginary monsters.


Any story that ends up with a protagonist like that has got to have a very depressing final book.


Except that this book depressed me in all the wrong ways.


Everything that I loved about the first three books were either gone or twisted to such a degree that I found them either horrifying to look at or unrecognizable.


It’s sort of like watching someone you love turn into a zombie.




Gone was the naive, likable orphan that had me cheering for him, that made me cry when I thought of him as a demented old man.


Gone was his unbending desire to do and be good.


In his place was this unrecognizable douche with slicked back hair trying so hard to sound so cool and going all “I know so much better than you because I’ve seen monsters”.


The same boy who was horrified at the idea of killing a man in the first three books, murdered several in cold blood in the fourth.


I realize that, realistically speaking, his horrific experiences would have changed Will Henry for the worse but if we’re talking realism, both he and Pellinore should have frozen to death back in Curse of the Wendigo.


Let’s face it, we’re not reading this book for the realism.


The thing about Will Henry’s transformation was that the author did it in such a way that I could not relate to him or even recognize him.


Pellinore on the other hand, became even more pathetic.  He lost all of his good qualities and devolved into this spoiled man-child that could not even be bothered to look after himself. He wasn’t a very likable character to begin with, but now he just seemed like a crybaby.


The relationship between Will Henry and Pellinore also took a turn for the worse. I always loved this aspect of the books: the young orphan being an assistant to a cold, callous scientist. The Watson to Pellinore’s Holmes.


Will Henry, as an orphan desperate for love and affection, had no one else.


Pellinore, as a too-brilliant-for-his-own-good scientist needed someone like Will Henry to thaw him out.


In this book, they can’t even stand one another. The whole I-hate-you-but-I-really-love-you relationship was gone.


Which was a shame, I always felt as if there was one thing that could redeem Pellinore, it was his love for Will Henry.


I don’t even want to get started on the plot. What started out as a brilliant, refreshing series about a Holmesian society that eyed monsters through the lens of a scientist ended up as a pop-psychological rant about how the monsters were inside us all along.

Spare me.


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