No one believes in them. But soon no one will forget them.

It's 1889. The city is on the cusp of industry and power, and the Exposition Universelle has breathed new life into the streets and dredged up ancient secrets. Here, no one keeps tabs on dark truths better than treasure-hunter and wealthy hotelier Séverin Montagnet-Alarie. When the elite, ever-powerful Order of Babel coerces him to help them on a mission, Séverin is offered a treasure that he never imagined: his true inheritance.

To hunt down the ancient artifact the Order seeks, Séverin calls upon a band of unlikely experts: An engineer with a debt to pay. A historian banished from his home. A dancer with a sinister past. And a brother in arms if not blood.

Together, they will join Séverin as he explores the dark, glittering heart of Paris. What they find might change the course of history--but only if they can stay alive.

At first glance, The Gilded Wolves looks like a recipe for the perfect book fitted completely to my taste. Everything about it, from the dark and glamorous setting that is 19th century Paris to the heist trope that can’t not remind me of Six of Crows, seems to promise an unforgettable tale, alluring and charming and fun, something I was so sure I was going to enjoy.

Roshani Chokshi sets her story in a world similar to ours, but where industry and technology are both rivalled and aided by the art of Forging, the power to mold mind or matter according to one’s will that originates from so-called Babel Fragments (supposedly the pieces of the Tower of Babel) scattered all over the world. Because of the great power of those Fragments and the danger they could possess if that power fell into wrong hands, centuries ago the Order of Babel was formed—a secret society of various countries’ noble houses sworn to safeguard the location of their part of the world’s Fragment.

The year is 1889 and Paris is at the peak of industrial advancement and prosperity. While the whole world is getting ready for the Exposition Universelle, the French faction of the Order of the Babel is in an uproar. The matriarch of House Kore was attacked and her Babel Ring—an artifact harboring the secret of the location of one of the Fragments—stolen. With another ring already missing, the location of the Fragment is highly compromised, which is why the patriarch of another French house seeks the help of Séverin Montagnet-Alarie, a disgraced heir turned wealthy hotelier turned treasure-hunter of sorts. Together with his band of misfits, Séverin sets on a dangerous quest that could help preserve the world as they know it or change it for good—depending on whether they succeed.



It was the magnificent world of The Gilded Wolves that instantly captured my attention. Various cultures, legends and myths from all over the world were interwoven with mathematical and scientific concepts and magic, together creating a captivating backdrop for Chokshi to spin her story onto. That beginning had me staring goggle-eyed at practically everything—I just couldn’t get enough of it.

However, as the story progressed, things started getting a little … overboard. Most of the time it seemed as though the rules were literally being made up on the spot, with the most convenient “inventions” coincidently appearing at just the right time to aid the characters in some way or another. It felt like a bit too big of a stretch even for the fantasy genre and came a little too close to deus ex machina to my liking. Even when it comes to some of the more established concepts like the notion of Forging, I feel like I’m still not completely sure what it is, despite the fact that the term was explained at least a dozen times.


My main issue with this book, though, was the writing. Honestly—it was a mess. The writing style seems nice enough, with well-written and dynamic action scenes and detailed yet not over-done descriptions. Until, suddenly, the narrative digresses to something completely unrelated or is interrupted by a random picture of a fucking golden ratio rectangle and its mathematical equation that are, in fact, entirely irrelevant and inconsequential to the whole story. Even if they played a more significant role, I think the author should be able to explain the concepts they choose to use in-text without having to include the picture, especially those that actually exist in our world. And if they do explain them (like Chokshi did), are the illustration and formula really needed? Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against the use of illustrations—nay, I love them—but this was just so random and unnecessary.

And don’t get me started on the dialogues. I could practically feel a headache coming on nearly every time anyone other than Séverin and Laila interacted. They mostly felt forced and awkward, with random “jests” (remarks? requests, even) that were probably supposed to sound funny being thrown in the middle of otherwise completely normal dialogue or the excessive use of “et cetera”. I’m usually not nitpicky about that sort of things, but it was hard not to notice when almost every single act of numeration, from a list of threats to a description of one’s character, ended with it. And I’m not even joking:
”I can have you arrested, executed, tarred and feathered, et cetera. There’s no point, really, in detailing it.”
”You’ll like working with me, I promise! I’m fabulous at parties, have excellent taste in menswear, et cetera, et cetera.”
I mean, no one talks like that. Right?

(Of course, not all dialogues were like this, but unfortunately most parts that were genuinely fun and witty kind of got overshadowed with these.)
I thought that that writing practically ruined both the plot and the characters for me, but guess what? It turned out I was wrong. While it was rather distracting and all I wanted at times was to just be done with this book, once I made it to the end I realized I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to these characters just yet. Between me wanting to slam my kindle into the wall and dig my eyes out, they seem to have grown on me. Especially Séverin and Laila (aka the mom and dad™ of the group), whose relationship dynamic I can’t seem to get over. It was the ultimate “two-sided unrequited-love” situation—and we all know I have a weak spot for those. Laila was an actual icon—both feminine and feminist and so damn strong and powerful, with mysterious power and even more mysterious past. Séverin, on the other hand, is one of those people that look like could kill you and could actually kill you—but since he adopted all of the others and cares fiercely for them, I’m sure there’s a cinnamon roll hiding somewhere behind it all. Then there’s also Zofia, a troubled scientist whom I could sympathize quite a bit with and who left quite an impact on me,Tristan, whom I didn’t care much about for the most part, and Hypnos and Enrique, whom I also didn’t care about except for the fact that they mostly annoyed me.


I have to be completely honest here and say the plot was absolutely amazing. It unfolds rather slowly, but once it reaches its peak, there’s simply no stopping. That ending was such a wild ride, with practically every page delivering mind-blowing revelations that I never even saw coming. Now I just have to read the sequel, even if it means going through all that writing again because DAMN, that cliffhanger guys