If we all band together we can put the book Silence out of its misery, together

☆☆☆☆☆

(0 stars)

Silence (Hush, Hush #3) by Becca Fitzpatrick.

It’s been two years since I read Crescendo, book two of the Hush, Hush quartet. I’ve gotten through a lot of YA para-ro angel books, it’s kinda my special topic. But Hush Hush is notably the worst. The notion I’ve vaguely seen of it having a resurgence is mind boggling. It’s always been one of the most boring, irritating, hateful, drivel-driving books from the time and holy crow why did I read book three.

Here’s the thing about Silence: it is nothing. It’s over 400 pages, and for about half of that, the main character has amnesia and has forgotten the first two books. The writing is repetitive, the eating-disorder jokes and slut-shaming continues, the love interest is still a creep, and half the action is resolved off screen.

It’s the same as before, such a slump that would have been better suited to being a quarter of a book, even a few chapters. Silence is a pointless endeavour in the Twilight-led compulsion to have a quartet; it is heartless and charmless.

There’s not even any funny jokes to be made really.

Except the sudden bear shapeshifting.