---
title: 'Book review: "The Devils" by Joe Abercrombie'
date: 2026-06-14T15:30:53.643Z
slug: 2026-06-14-book-review-the-devils-by-joe-abercrombie
author: Thomas Wilson-Cook
tags:
  - book-review

---
Last year I read Joe Abercrombie's _Age of Madness_ trilogy and loved it.  Funnily enough I tried to read his _First Law_ trilogy back in 2014(?) and remember hating it.  I recall it feeling like a book about manly men doing manly things.  If I had enough self-loathing I reckon I could dig out my Good Reads review from the time, but frankly... why?

What I think I like about Abercrombie his is ability to hold plot in one hand, and writing style in the other.  His stories either seem to orbit around (or perhaps get pulled out of orbit _by_) the less respectful parts of human nature and societies - dehumanisation and eventual genocide through racism, faith in the face of seemingly silent god(s), and plain-faced indifference to human suffering.  Not, in other words, a riot (pun intended).  But he balances it with a wit and rhythm that sort of keeps asking you "well what did you expect?" as he makes horrible things stumble over eachother in the story _he is telling you_.

I picked up _The Devils_ looking for a stand-alone novel ([not my first stand-alone fantasy novel this year](/blog/2026-02-04-book-review-the-tower-of-the-tyrant-jt-greathouse)), at a (very pleasantly narrated) 25 hours it wasn't exactly "short" but it has carried me the whole way through the construction of a pair of linen trousers, from cutting to hand finishing.  I have since learned that it's [not even going to be a standalone](https://reactormag.com/book-announcement-the-heretics-by-joe-abercrombie/).

Unlike (I think) all of his other books, _The Devils_ is set in our actual open-Google-maps-and-you'll-see-it Western Europe geography.  There's Troy and Barcelona, Germany and Poland.  Given that a hefty tranche of pulp fantasy literature is in some invented idea of medieval Western Europe, I think this is interesting.  Why go to all the effort of re-creating something that's real but with the names changed.  Or why shuffle the Mahjong tiles around the table until you've got something that's totally not medieval Europe (wink wink).  Across the fictional medium pond, in video games, 2025's _Kingdom Come: Deliverance II_ ([wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kingdom_Come:_Deliverance_II)) achieved critical and popular success by recreating the historical setting of fifteenth-century Bohemia[^bohemia]

[^bohemia]: modern day Czech Republic, where developer Warhorse are located ([wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warhorse_Studios))].  

It's not a trope I've read before: realistic geography, completely parallel fantasy universe and associated social/political histories (the elves _just keep invading_).  There was a murky middle ground: the central faith (the Christianity stand-in) was never named (simply "the faith"), and "the saviour" (Jesus) was a woman who was killed on a wheel (not a cross).

I find the tools of speculative fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, horror) interesting insofar as they can both tell fantastical stories but also support real human narratives.  If we're going to dramatise our stories and play pretend, just go all out and have fun.  But at times I was a little unclear exactly what we were trying to achieve with this mixture of realistic geography, parallel analogy, and completely fantastic additions.  An ocean voyage across the Adriatic is functionally identical to the same voyage across any fictional ocean you make up, one medieval standing army is much like another...  If you're trying to draw similarities between a fictionalised version of Christianity and "real" Christianity[^christ] just... use Christianity.  Is the idea of an elvish invasion of Poland supposed to be meaningfully more believable to me than that of _The Great Fracturing of the Ninth Age in the Eastern District_ of some pulp-y Fictional Fantasy Kingdom?

[^christ]: "It is possible for some Christian faith traditions to be more real than others", evaluate an discuss.] 

This is, I am aware, a question I would never ask of a fantasy book written by an author who let mould grow on their bread, traced it, and called it their fantasy kingdom.  But expecting your reader to come into a book with no expectations or prior knowledge of genre convention feels idealistic at best.  If this book was written from a second-person narrative, you'd question why (see what I did there?) - because 99% of the books we read are first- or third-person.

Sorry what was I talking about?  _The Devils_ by Joe Abercrombie?  Yeah, no, it's actually a good book.  Unlike the one other trilogy I've read from Abercrombie, he didn't kill my favourite character at the end, but also apparently there's going to be at least one other book in the series so let's just write this one in paper.  For now, I'm left with a better taste in my mouth (and a low-level hum of distrust for an author with a proven pattern of fictional murder).  I like that he doesn't feel the need to explain or answer everything - it's a world that we're being hurtled through.  The more worldly characters in the narrative frequently know a lot more of the pasts and presents of the places they visit, but rarely vocalise it.

The book sees us follow a band of unlikely comrades, each with their own "fault" (in the eyes of the definitely-not-Catholic church), as they seek to restore a long-lost heir to the thrown to their Empire, so that we can stop the in-fighting and restore the divided church and therefore help the kingdom heal and bring great spiritual union to the people of earth.

This is pulp fantasy, homebrew dungeons and dragons campaign, fare (which I say as an _extreme_ complement).  We are _propelled_ through it, in a really clean three (or five?) act structure.  A little paint-by-numbers towards the end, perhaps.  Although you'll guess at least a couple of the "they were secretly villains all along" twists, Abercrombie pulls a few neater surprises at the end which are less predictable and more interesting.

The thing that I continue to respect him for is his ability to leave a narrative hanging.  The book will end before the story does, a flourish that I will always respect.  The relatively common fantasy hook of "escort the princess to the throne" can have a lot of dangling political threads.  Which brings to mind JRR Martin's bugbear "Tolkein can say that Aragorn became king and reigned for a hundred years, and that he was wise and good.  But Tolkein doesn't ask the question: what was Aragorn's tax policy?" ([The Tolkein Society](https://www.tolkiensociety.org/2014/04/grrm-asks-what-was-aragorns-tax-policy/)).

I, for one, am pleased to discover an author who respects me, doesn't take it too seriously, and who has written a manageable (15... that's manageable yeah?) number of books to read.  _The Devils_ didn't quite hit the highs of _The Age of Madness_ for me, but... not everything can.
