“Pain begets insanity.
Insanity begets love.
Love begets pain.
It is 1932, and the City of Dalltop is teeming with corruption. In the dead of night, a woman cries for help, but none turn an ear to her pleas. She scuttles through the lost buildings under their leaky roofs for shelter, but they always come. They dress as dark as the night and hide in the shadows. She pierces her feet in mileage and tears her clothes in desperation, but they always find her.
Myriana was a rich young lady with no ambitions, no voice of her own that is until she became the wife of the handsome tycoon, Sorrel Borchardt. She soon learns that nothing is as it superficially appears. The streets that shine during the day actually stand upon the rotten foundations of a mafia organization known as Idon. What hand does Sorrel Borchardt have in Idon? Will Myriana learn to adapt to her new violent lifestyle or will she be consumed by it? Embark on a journey rout in spine-chilling bloodshed as you thread upon the fine line that divides infatuation from insanity.” (Source: Goodreads)
Sorrel and Myriana first crossed my radar sometime last year but failed to find its way into my TBR pile. Recently, the title surfaced again so I gave it a shot and I am not disappointed. For those that are sensitive, it does contain topics that are not for the feint of heart, such as severe abuse and mental illness.
The world that Sun creates in Sorrel and Myriana is dark and beautiful. Dalltop appears as any city: alive and bustling against a backdrop of the grit and gore that accompanies a world ruled by a crime syndicate. The sheer wealth and abundance that plagues the characters of this book alone is enough to leave a sour taste in my mouth. They do not know the suffering of ordinary folk and they operate on their own set of rules. Sorrel, Myriana, and their family live above the the law of Dalltop.
In Sorrel and Myriana, Sun breathes life into characters that are extremely unpleasant. Unlike Gillian Flynn in Gone Girl, Sun’s despicable characters have a unique and unsettling charm that make it possible to feel an unusually abundant amount of sympathy for them, despite the brevity of their crimes. Sorrel and Myriana share a love for one another that is abusive, dangerous, and destructive in nature. This love appears so deeply encoded in their hearts and minds that the two exist as a hateful magnet to one another.
There are two things that keep me from giving this book a five star rating. First, Sun employs a lot of purple prose, a term that refers to unnecessary descriptions and excessively difficult words. Second, Sun’s use of first-person perspective is stronger than third-person. Because of this, the final third of the book loses a lot of its momentum and, quite honestly, takes a rather boring turn.
Despite its flaws, Sorrel and Myriana is undoubtedly one of my favorite books. The depth of the horrid love shared between these two is disturbingly powerful. Unhealthy and appalling, but powerful. I hope to read more stories with this degree of complexity from Evelyn Sun in the future