The Maas Effect

You've seen these books around, what's the big deal?

If you go into a bookstore, or consume books in e-formats, you’ve probably seen A Court of Thorns and Roses around, or even Throne of Glass or Crescent City. You might’ve even heard that someone tried to ban A Court of Thorns and Roses in VA Beach because of the sex¹. If you’re active in the online book communities, you’ve probably seen fan art, reviews, and strong opinions one way or the other about the various series. If you read fantasy, you’ve probably seen books with very similar covers and titles to the famous A Court of or COOL WORD of COOL WORD title formats, or books claiming to be perfect for fans of ACOTAR.

And, most notably, the release of Crescent City 3 was highlighted on the Today Show and Kelly Clarkson—there were midnight release parties at bookstores all over the country. It was WILD. There was even an article in TIME.

You might be wondering what the big deal is—and you may have even tried one or two of the books and just don’t get the appeal. That’s alright, you don’t have to like books by Sarah J Maas. Really, I’ll still be your friend. People are allowed to dislike things.

But you’ve probably got the wrong idea about why they are so popular. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.

When people talk about these books, they focus on the spicy romance part. The wingspan jokes, the unnaturally beautiful people, the fated mate swooning…those are the trappings of the world and they are fun. More importantly, however, they are easy to talk about. They aren’t really why ACOTAR (in particular) is popular.

That TIME article I linked above has some quotes about this, but most of the time people don’t really talk about the real reason the stories resonate—at least not on social media. They can’t without huge spoilers and far too much personal information.²

The short version is this: Sarah J Maas writes deeply emotional stories that paint the hard road of trauma recovery with surprising honesty. Imagine if, instead of going to the undying lands, Frodo had to face his trauma and learn to keep going.³

Let’s talk about Throne of Glass

My first real introduction to books by women, and fantasy by women, and—more specifically, “romantasy” the subgenre—was Maas’s Throne of Glass. I’ve since read quite a bit more.

Throne of Glass, fondly abbreviated as TOG, was a present from a friend who is a voracious reader, and I’m not 100% sure how she found it. 4 books of the series 7 were out when I started reading.

At the time, I’d read some Brandon Sanderson⁴, Stephen Lawhead, and maaaaybe Megan Whalen Turner’s Attolia books. I grew up on CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien, and had also read George MacDonald and possibly some Lloyd Alexander. (I was also making it a point to read classics, Dostoyevsky, Austen…I never made it to Tolstoy). I was knee deep writing my web series about a dethroned half-nymph princess turned mercenary—which is actually what prompted my friend to give me TOG. None of these writers are slouches, and they all tell emotional stories (I haven’t been able to dive back into Lawhead’s Albion cycle to finish it, probably never will).

Up to that point, most of the books by women I’d read were Christian historical romance with a small handful of Christian contemporary romance. I was pretty tired of those. Christian fiction has hamstrung itself into certain patterns that really rob characters of agency, stories of balance and nuance, and generally skew morals in a very odd way once you start to consider the ramifications.

So, TOG was something different.

Really different.

**giggles in chocolate loving assassin**

I thought it was not the best written book ever in terms of word smithery but I enjoyed it anyway. I cared about the characters. It was a fun lark and I was ready for more at the end, since it was obvious that there there was soooooo much more to the world and book 1 really only scratched the surface. Enter six more books of plot, emotional turmoil, gasping at cliffhangers and plot twists….also waiting a year between books to find out what happens…it was a journey and I loved it. The characters, the plot, the world. Is it perfect? No. No book is (except maybe Spinning Silver).

The story of Throne of Glass starts with Celeana the assassin, Chaol the King’s Guard Captain and Dorian, the crown prince—in a small potatoes classic YA set up of a competition to be the King’s Champion—but you end up with a large cast of characters, epic high fantasy stakes, each character with their own story to tell. One of my favorite characters doesn’t even enter the story until a couple of books in, and she is complex. Her arc is the best in the series. TOG is true high fantasy, as in, these are world ending stakes, and some pretty clear lines between good and evil (though, there is a LOT of gray in this world). Heroes aren’t perfect, their flaws are not carefully noted as flaws just so everyone is clear on the fact that they are flaws (which is something Christian fiction seems obligated to do).

The series sucked me in and wrapped me up in an emotional journey unlike anything I’d encountered before. It’s really difficult to quantify—after all, Lord of the Rings can make me laugh and cry, what makes TOG hit different? I think it has to do with emotional trauma being acknowledged as trauma—and then not just left to sit. The characters aren’t allowed to treat their past trauma as just…backstory. Heir of Fire, which is book 3 of TOG, is literally about facing your past trauma and fears and coming to terms with who you are/who you’re meant to be.

And it obviously resonates with a lot of people. Something about the writing puts you deep inside each character, feeling what they feel.

You watch characters struggle and heal from horrible pain, both past and inflicted in the books—the story wrestles with grief, neglect, brainwashing, love, friendship, free will vs predestination, being the chosen one in the worst way, being a good person who made mistakes, and dealing with life changing injuries. The story was also compassionate toward women—even the catty one, in the end, had more to her. Additionally, the heroes treated women as human beings—you know, equals, rather than children or pets.

The stories are blazingly hopeful. Even in the face of unspeakable terrors, there is hope.

I don’t think I’ve ever read books that deal more openly and thoroughly with walking through trauma and coming out the other side. (A Court of Silver Flames from ACOTAR is often described as a huge smut fest, but while it is incredibly spicy, it is also a literal handbook with actionable steps for healing from trauma if you’re paying attention. I’m not exaggerating⁵). Also, the romantic relationships are actually relationships between three-dimensional people who come to love and respect each other as equals (while also desiring one another sexually, imagine that).

There is a lot more of that kind of emotional health writing going on in fiction these days, but I can tell you that this aspect of Sarah J Maas’s stories is what causes them to worm into people’s heads. I don’t know if she was the first who really treated stories this way, but her popularity has definitely helped this kind of storytelling spread.

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Somewhat spoilery discourse on A Court of Thorns and Roses

I eventually picked up A Court of Thorns and Roses (ACOTAR) while waiting for the next TOG (probably book 7) because I just wanted more, and even though the premise wasn’t as interesting to me, I was desperate.

ACOTAR’s writing style is less polished than TOG—everything about the world is more raw, and more faerie tale, and felt more slap-dash to me (I’m not sure that it actually is slapdash, however). I remember telling my friend—the one who recommend TOG—that I thought the fey were crazy overpowered. Parts of the book dragged. The plot was not forthcoming with information, the heroine (our narrator) was kept in the dark for almost the whole book about what was really going on. Though she was trying to figure it out while healing emotionally and physically from years of near starvation and a bad family life.

I was not in love with Tamlin (the Beast), even though Feyre was. There were plenty of moments where I snorted a bit because of situations I saw as contrived to up sensuality.

And yet.

It was interesting enough that I kept reading. Probably because I was 5+ books in on TOG and had faith. And also because Feyre was so broken at the end, even though they won, that I was curious what would happen next. I mean…spoiler, they won. What’s left? It’s a trilogy, so obviously more is going on here than breaking the Beauty and the Beast curse. I didn’t expect—though I should have—what amounts to a genre critique in book 2.

The romance genre, on the whole, is more nuanced than people give it credit for. However, there are a number of common tropes which are…well…problematic.

The “Alpha Male” is a Problem

If you hit Youtube, you’ll find hundreds of hours of content analyzing the character of Edward from Twilight, or Christian Grey from Fifty Shades. Possibly thousands of hours (I linked to a couple of my favorites). Edward and Christian share a number of alarming traits that are pretty common among romance heroes: Most notably, they are extremely possessive and controlling. I can’t recall at the moment if either of them fly into rages, but wild overreactions and displays of temper are also common (usually not directed at the heroine, but not always).

Things that would be red flag behaviors in real life are part of the romance alpha male trope. For example: Not respecting the heroine’s privacy, opinions, or decisions, possibly verbally acquiescing but then going behind her back, or just steamrolling her in the moment. Flying into rages at the tiniest provocation. Controlling what friends she sees (if any), where she goes, what she wears, etc., getting extremely jealous of other males in her proximity, withholding information and generally treating her like a child…you get the idea.

I’ve read more in the genre now, and can tell you there is a bit of a spectrum, but the possessive aggressive male lead is a very common trope.

ACOTAR presents a take down of the possessive aggressive alpha by allowing the red flag behaviors to actually be red flags. Tamlin’s controlling and possessive behaviors, which are mostly explain-away-able in book 1 get stronger as their relationship progresses. It isn’t presented as a good thing. Arguably, that’s also genre typical a la Fifty Shades, but instead of it being a turn on, it literally almost kills the heroine. True to form, no one can save her from the abusive relationship until she asks for help. But when she does ask, she is rescued. And then she has to heal.

The story doesn’t stop at “these are actually red flags,” it proceeds to offer a good man for our consideration. Rhysand is morally grey for compelling reasons, operates with a strong moral compass of selflessness, understands what it means to be overpowered and abused, actively choses not to abuse his own power, and is the very definition of self control. He’s also secure enough in himself to not be threatened by the heroine’s growing power, and is for her in all things. He treats her as an equal, even before she came into her power. The bad things he did in book 1 he didn’t enjoy, he viewed as bad, and did them only to save the people he loved and was responsible for.

I also appreciate the contrast of the people surrounding Tamlin vs. the people surrounding Rhysand: I adore Tamlin’s bff, Lucien, but Lucien is genuinely afraid of Tamlin and any disagreement he has with Tamlin’s methods needs to be finessed and delicately presented. Lucien is the only person who holds any sway of Tamlin, and honestly he doesn’t hold much. Rhysand, who is insanely overpowered in terms of magic, has four close friends who will not hesitate to loudly tell him they think he’s being stupid. And he’ll listen to them. He may not change his mind, but he’ll listen. With Rhysand and the “Inner Circle” we see friends who tease, laugh, counsel, and support one another. To Feyre, it’s unbelievable at first. It’s so wholesome in the face of the horrors of the world that it cannot possibly be real.

Feyre’s story, as she journeys from starvation and a traumatic childhood, to love and safety, then betrayal, then out into knowing herself finding love again is compelling.

That’s why people love ACOTAR. That’s why people love Rhysand and the Inner Circle.

I appreciate that the books don’t shy away from sex as part of the romantic relationship. It’s part of the emotional journey, it would be odd to pretend it wasn’t there.

To me, ACOTAR, particularly Feyre’s trilogy, says that the alpha male trope portrays an unhealthy man who is not a good choice for a partner. A genuinely strong man feels feelings, supports women, controls his anger and lust, and listens to counsel. The book does this without saying all those things explicitly, it does it by showing two men behaving very differently under similar circumstances.

This is a recurring theme in Crescent City, as well. Quite on the nose, in many ways, as the heroine, Bryce, talks about how all the magic race males are “possessive aggressive alphaholes.” She’s not correct, of course, there are good males, but her character is reacting from her mother’s trauma and against cultural values.

Maas talks about her relationship with her husband shaping how she writes all the heroes in her stories, and I think that’s beautiful.

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Anyway, that’s what the big deal is about Maas’s books. I also enjoy the twisty plots, the amazing friendships, the spicy romantic relationships, and blazing hope for a better world. While I’ve not gone through anything as traumatic as Maas’s characters, I’ve found their emotional journeys personally encouraging and healing.

If you’re interested, give them a try. If you like fantasy adventure, start with Throne of Glass⁶. If you want to try romantasy or you’re already a fan, try A Court of Thorns and Roses⁷. If you like urban fantasy, try Crescent City⁸. But fair warning, CC isn’t done. At least, that’s my impression. I haven’t finished book 3 but given the naming conventions I fully expect the series to go on for a while.

1. Which I personally find a shame, because I’d rather people learn about sex from Maas than a lot of other people.

2. I’m also far from thinking the enjoyment of sex or celebration of strong romantic relationships is a bad thing.

3. I adore Lord of the Rings, and do not mean to say Frodo’s story should have gone differently, but just trying to express what’s so different about Maas’s work.

4. Sanderson’s Mistborn, which is quite slow moving but has some good characters. Lawhead’s Albion cycle which has much war and death and sadness. George MacDonald wrote weird fairy tales and for-him contemporary fiction. Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain Chronicles are a lyrical old school fairy tale adventure story in the same tone as The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, but rooted in a singular mythos and foregoing allegory. All of these authors tend toward omniscient or limited omniscient styles in which the narrator is almost another character. While still packing emotional weight, it’s a more zoomed out story telling approach.

5. Silver Flames tells the story of Nesta, Feyre’s older sister who is, honestly, not likable in ACOTAR. Nesta shares some of Feyre’s trauma, but reacted very differently to it, and also underwent a different sort of trauma that bears similar scars to sexual assault. It’s not a metaphor, but there are parallels to the loss of agency and self value. The story is filled with sex, but also contrasts sex with intimacy and shows how we lie to ourselves, and hamstring ourselves, but also gives a path out. It has a happy ending, with Nesta much healthier physically and emotionally, and finally able to love and experience real friendship and real intimacy. Talking about that resonance requires an openness and seriousness not usually part of social media (rightfully, I think), so the focus must be on the spicy bits.

6. TOG books 1-4 are spice level 2 books 5-7 are more a 4. There is a lot of violence and guts throughout the whole series.

7. ACOTAR, Feyre’s trilogy, is a spice 4, ACOSF is a 5.

8. CC is a spice 4, but if swearing ruins books for you, don’t read this series. The swearing is weirdly over the top.