"Revenge me. For I am murdered."

I read this book for a long time. But it wasn't because I had trouble getting into it or because I was bored; In fact, this was a nearly perfect book to me.

I prolonged finishing this novel for two reasons.

The first being: I simply didn't want it to end. I read Rottenheart in sips despite the writing practically begging for greedy laps. I felt like a specter traipsing the halls of Herne House, trying to capture every hushed whisper and wanting to peek into the keyhole of every locked door; It felt like a saga I was watching slowly unfold and metamorphose again and again.

The second reason is this: reading Rottenheart felt like Kat Dunn wrested open my rib cage, dug her hands into the pith and sinew beneath my breastbone, then showed me my own grief-battered but still-beating heart and said, "Would you like me to tell you what's inside?"

Rottenheart is made of paradoxes. It is beautiful, it is monstrous. It is comforting, it is harrowing. This is a story that is broadly about having parents, but more specifically, it is about having a mother; Which can be wonderful or it can be terrible—and, for many, it is both. It also explores the numerous ways in which we can mourn people while they're still here.

I have never had my own grief so piercingly reflected back at me until reading this Hamlet retelling. And Kat Dunn hadn't either until she saw Hamlet for the very first time. And Shakespeare hadn't either until he created Hamlet after losing a son. So, in this way, we are all connected and bearing witness to each other's grief across seas and time, which feels like the original intent behind Hamlet, no?

I will end this with a quote from Dunn's Author's Note (which may be the most beautiful and important Author's Note I have ever read, by the way)—"I hope you recognize these feelings, and I hope you don't."

Thank you to Zando and NetGalley for an eARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review. Pub date: Oct. 13, 2026

“In order to have a future worth fighting for, you must have a past worth remembering.”

Overview Oh, man. I mean, what can I say that hasn't already been said? This book was everything it's described as: beautiful, heart-wrenching, enrapturing. And quite funny too! I didn't expect it to have as much dry wit as it did, but that was a big bonus for me as sometimes humor added to fiction can lean a bit heavy handed. That certainly wasn't the case here, though.

I have found that a lot of fantasy and/or romantasy tends to take a bit for me to truly get into it. Usually because the beginning has a lot of lore drops and worldbuilding to get through before the action begins—which I understand—but as much as I was expecting that here, it never came. Harrow's style of writing immediately drew me in. She has a way of writing that feels captivating and evocative without feeling pretentious. Not a word feels wasted.

The Romance I know second person POVs in fiction can be polarizing, but I think it worked exceptionally well here and added another layer to the story. It made the book read like an ode or like a love letter passed between the main characters. And in many ways, it was! The romance isn't the entire focus of the plot, but it certainly is a large part of it. Harrow did something highly skillful here in creating a love story that truly felt like something eternal, something ordained. It's not a love that's easily held in one's hands, it's one Harrow makes you work for, but it's also one that our characters fight and claw for again, and again, and again. And again.

I also loved that neither of our MCs fit into traditional gender roles in their real lives or within their relationship. It was the first time, I think, that I've seen a heterosexual presenting relationship in a book truly feel stripped of binary. It was unbelievably refreshing.

Also, Owen is an eater—rejoice!

What Didn't Work As Well for Me Time travel is a hard thing to get right in books, and I think that Harrow did well; However, my rating was lowered slightly as I felt there were a few inconsistencies in the way it was described to work here. I also wanted a bit more explanation on the initial magic that kind of fueled this whole story to begin with. It's discussed, certainly, but I wanted more as the explanation still left me asking okay, but why?

Conclusion Other than the very minor instances mentioned, this book was breathtaking. It was my first Alix E. Harrow book, but I don't foresee it being my last. If you like dark fairy tales, muscular lady knights, wiry scholars, and a romance that's hard-won, The Everlasting is for you.

Audiobook Narration: 4.5 🌟 This book was dually narrated by Moira Quirk (Blood Over Bright Haven, Gideon the Ninth) and Sid Sagar. They were both phenomenal! They both were also particularly well-suited to their characters and they navigated emotionally-charged scenes beautifully. I did have to occasionally speed up or slow down my listening speed depending on who was narrating at the moment, but it didn't really detract from the experience all that much.

Favorite Quotes

• “I loved you by then, or would soon, or always had. It was inevitable, foretold: When I look up, I will see the sky; when I fight, I will win; when I meet Owen Mallory, I will love him.”
• “Let us lie here forever. Let us be buried as wild things are, by tooth and claw and worm. Let the grasses grow up through the sockets of our eyes. Let them find us in seven years or seventy, and let their brows furrow, because they cannot tell my bones from yours.”
• “Because no throne is held easily, or for long; because a nation is a story we tell about ourselves, and stories change, if you let them. Because where there is power, someone will oppose it.”
• “Take me however you want. Use me cruelly or kindly, as you like. Command me, if you can.”

This book sat like a boulder in my chest.

It's a story about magic, grief, a plague, marriage as endurance, a mother's love, and a man who was made entirely on the backs of the women in his life.

Maggie O'Farrell writes as if she's taking a slow stroll through the world she's creating and cataloguing everything she sees; from the tall grasses and the wildflowers studded between them to the tiny dust motes suspended within a sunbeam. Everything, no matter how big or small, gets a moment of observation and meditation on its mere existence.

Every thought a character has is held in their palm and turned this way and that, until all sides and corners have been closely studied and all possible nuance has been wrung out. This type of storytelling certainly doesn't lend itself to a rapidly moving plot, but it does create a story that rewards patience and contemplation.

O'Farrell has an ability to write grief in a way only a handful of authors I have come across have been able to, and I'll always be grateful (and a little heart-sore) for having experienced it. I'll leave a link 🔗 here to my forum post that discusses that part of it a bit more.

Overall, a really beautiful reflection on loss, family, and the women who create these idolized men but are seldom rewarded for it.