I read Sabriel when it first came out and then never followed up with the sequels (I know, I know, I’m a bad Australian and genre fan). The nice thing though is that Clariel, being a prequel to the first trilogy, requires no knowledge of the original trilogy. Yes, a number of the concepts and locations will be very familiar to fans of the Old Kingdom, but Nix doesn’t assume that you’re already invested in his world.

It also doesn’t mean that the book is crammed with exposition (a personal bug bear that I know I keep harping on about). As this is Clariel’s first visit to the capital city of Belisaere, we experience the sights and sounds just like she does. The magical concepts – whether that be of the Charter or Free variety – are explained naturally in the context of the scene and through dialogue. It’s all very well handled and makes the novel extremely accessible.

And while there are several easter eggs in the book for long time fans, for the ignorant reader such as myself, it never feels like you’re missing out on anything. (If the appearance of a certain cat tickled the dusty reaches of my memory it’s only because he’s a particularly memorable cat).

Clariel is a wonderfully, fully developed character. Her dream is to not be a goldsmith like her mother or be an Abhorsen like her family, but instead live in the forest as a guide or working with the Borderers. But because her mother is famous, Clariel soon discovers that her destiny won’t be one of her own making. There are plans afoot to marry her off to the son of the Governor and even make her the Regent of the Kingdom, in place of the aloof and detached King.

What I loved is that although everyone wants a piece of Clariel, and although she is seen as tool or weapon or asset to be wielded by her parents, by her grandfather, by the enemies of her family, Clariel maintains her sense of independence and her agency. She takes no shit from anyone, including the King. Part of that is linked to the fact that she’s a berserker, a bit like the Hulk, when she’s furious she loses all sense of control and can rip people and things to shreds, and part of it comes from a deep well-spring of maturity and a firm idea of what she wants from her life.

Because Clariel is such a developed character, her downfall – if that’s the way to describe it – is all the more tragic and powerful. When she decides to embrace the dangers of Free Magic you can appreciate her choice given the fact that no-one is willing to respect her needs and wants. And if the novel has a clear message it’s that when parents and guardians and educators try to curtail a teenagers independence, when we try to mould them in our image, bad shit happens.  Clariel’s sense of independence is a positive, but in the stifling environment of her family and the city, it ends up leading her astray.

The novel isn’t perfect. The ending is rushed (seriously, the final confrontation takes about six pages) and a number of the secondary characters, like Clariel’s father and the villains of the piece, are broad caricatures rather than fully developed personalities.

But these are minor problems because really the focus is on Clariel and her journey and the choices she’s compelled to make because no-one is willing to respect her sense of independence or her desires.

Highly recommended.