Review of The Monarchs (The Ravens, #2) by Kass Morgan
There’s something undeniably compelling about tales of witchcraft interwoven with the everyday drama of college life. When I first stumbled upon The Ravens, the premise of a sorority of witches masquerading as regular college girls intrigued me. So naturally, I was eager to dive into the sequel, The Monarchs, courtesy of an e-ARC from NetGalley. However, while I approached this book with the excitement of uncovering new layers in the mystical narrative, my overall experience was bittersweet.
The Monarchs picks up in the aftermath of the harrowing events from the first book, thrusting us back into the lives of Scarlett and Vivi. Right from the get-go, the emotional scars of their past loom over them, coloring their perspectives and decisions. This continuation is necessary, as the book really demands a connection to the first to appreciate the intricate dynamics at play. Yet, I found myself grappling with the haunting sense of loss—not just of the past events but also of character depth.
Kass Morgan’s writing sets a beautifully atmospheric stage, and I adored the dark academia vibe that permeates the pages. The descriptions of the sorority house and the quaint campus settings were rich, effectively pulling me into the world. I can practically smell the damp autumn leaves and hear the rustle of witches whispering spells in shaded corners. However, as the story unfolded, I found the pacing uneven and the narrative occasionally unfocused. What should have been gripping moments felt drawn out, causing my attention to wander when I wanted to be fully invested.
As I journeyed further with Scarlett and Vivi, their characterization felt frustratingly inconsistent. Initially, I was captivated by Scarlett’s resilience and depth, hoping to see that development blossom further. Yet, throughout much of The Monarchs, they felt more like plot devices—one-dimensional instruments to facilitate a series of predictable events. This was disheartening, especially when their flaws seemed exaggerated, transforming them into characters I struggled to empathize with. I kept wishing for that relatability I had initially cherished.
There were moments that hinted at their past growth, but instead of building upon their experiences, the sisters seemed to fall prey to superficial concerns, diluting their complexities. I found myself waiting and wanting to root for them, but when things began to unravel, my emotional investment waned. It’s hard to feel urgency and suspense when the characters themselves reflect a hollowness that detracts from the stakes of their struggles.
In terms of themes, The Monarchs beautifully explores fear and the burden of expectations, but unfortunately, it gets overshadowed by pacing issues and character decisions that felt disjointed. Quotes that could have resonated deeply fell flat, which left me feeling like I was missing pivotal connections within the narrative.
Overall, I can’t deny my disappointment with this sequel—2.5 stars feels like a generous grade for a book that left me wanting to unhaul the first. I sincerely hope that readers who cherished The Ravens can find something to enjoy in this follow-up, but I wouldn’t recommend approaching The Monarchs without that foundational read.
If you’re a reader looking for a whimsical take on witchcraft blended with college life, this might still pique your interest. However, approach it with tempered expectations, as the promising threads seem to lose some of their magic. Despite its flaws, the experience has reignited my curiosity for the genre, leaving me hopeful for future works that could better balance character depth with captivating storytelling.
Discover more about The Monarchs (The Ravens, #2) on GoodReads >>