2000 pages of epic fantasy set in a vaguely feudal world filled with magic and mayhem–and at the center is Kylar, a street rat turned assassin for hire who finds himself in possession of a mystical object that lets him see the guilt in people’s eyes.
I was really impressed by The Night Angel, despite some intermittently clunky writing and some derivative elements (brother-sister incest, anyone?). I definitely lost myself in the story, though books two and three never quite lived up to the excellence of the first book. And when I reached the end, I was surprised–and moved–by the way Brent Weeks chose to wrap up the story lines.
Most fascinating to me was the way in which Weeks imbued his story with unmistakably Christian elements without rehashing Lord of the Rings. And he’s no prude, either, though there were a few scenes that struck me as unnecessarily prurient. I really felt like the story had a lot to say about the nature and purpose of sacrificial love without ever being preachy or allegorical.