
City of Glass

This third installment in Cassandra Clare’s Ode to Harry Potter was not quite as fun to hate as the second. I blame the faux incest romantic angst, which was dialed up to unbearable levels. At least there were some decent plot twists and character development. Also, this is the book in which everybody and their werewolf calls Clary out on all her crap, Clary included, and it is glorious! There was a little bit of that in book two, but there was more here. A large percentage of Clary’s character growth came through other characters telling her how horrible she is and her realizing they weren’t kidding, and I was all for it.
I do believe Clare’s writing has improved with each book, which gives me hope for her current endeavors, but I don’t think I’ll put any effort into acquiring more of her books. I am never more fully aware that YA books aren’t written for me than when I’m reading books like this. Not that teen me would have appreciated it much more than adult me. I never had more than two or three romantic bones in my body (and The Last Unicorn shattered one of them permanently—oh! sweet agony!), and I’ve always gotten irritated when the characters keep putting the world-saving on hold to be angstily in love.
I still haaaaaaaaate Jace and Clary and want them to go jump in Lake Lyn, and I need to take a break and do some priority-examining before I pick up book four. This one ended in a nice stopping-place. That’s enough fun-to-hate reading for now.