Richelle Mead’s The Glittering Court was…meh for me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know. But I can’t help it. Let’s back up a bit…
The Glittering Court is a sort of Pygmalionish, Gold Digging slash mail-order-bride concept. The Court, run by the Thornes, takes attractive, poor girls and trains them up to mimic the behaviors of the aristocracy. Once the girls are re-acculturated, trussed up, and judged ready, they are shipped off to Adoria, a frontierland of a New World where faux aristocracy is better than no aristocracy.
Adelaide, our protagonist, is a pampered Osfridian countess determined to thwart her arranged marriage. When the opportunity arises, she pretends to be her servant and joins the Glittering Court – where she will be submitted to a freaking arranged marriage. A wealth of oohs and awwws over dresses, money, men, and fancitudes ensues.
I am, quite clearly, not the audience for this book. I am a mid-30s, not-at-all girly, academic who didn’t even care about dresses when she was in high school. The book reads like a very young girl’s fantasy, lacking the flaws one acquainted with love understands and the badassery a strong woman expects.
I will not be reading the rest of the series.