Lord Grimdark did it again: with The Age of Madness he gave us a new, immersive trilogy set in the world of the First Law, and while he kept us all glued to the story with the two previous installment, he literally ended this narrative cycle with much, much more than a proverbial “bang” (or rather, a whole lot of them…).

The widespread turmoil on which the first two books in this series were focused, reaches here its bloody peak: previously, in Adua King Orso’s popularity was at its all-time low and the conspiracy mounted against him - led by his former friend and ally Leo dan Brock, together with Leo’s wife Savine dan Glokta - failed only thanks to a timely warning. What should have been the rebels’ decisive battle ended with Orso as the winner, Leo losing the gamble and some body parts, and he and a heavily pregnant Savine as prisoners in the city they hoped to rule. In the North, Rikke was sitting on her father’s chair, but still faced the encroaching armies of Black Calder and his brutal son Stour Nightfall, while trying to consolidate her power, forge new alliances and avoid constant betrayals.

As the final book opens, Orso has little time to enjoy his victory: after decades of bad, myopic management from the ruling council, the city of Adua is now a powder keg ready to explode, and explode it does in the throes of the Great Change - think of it as a bloodier, far scarier version of the French Revolution, complete with its own reign of Terror and mass executions carried out through worse means than the guillotine. Angry mobs sweep the city, destroying everything in their path, killing indiscriminately and taking the king prisoner, while Leo and Savine find themselves hailed as heroes. And in the North, Rikke seems on the verge of losing it all, as her allies dwindle and Black Calder keeps amassing a force capable of sweeping the land and crowning him as its sole ruler…

The above gives just the bare bones of the complex interweaving of narrative threads and character journeys that turn this novel into a compulsive - if often horrifying - read: there are many more POVs than the main ones I mentioned, and each one moves the story forward without overshadowing the others, reinforcing instead the perception of a building avalanche that moves inexorably toward its intended destination. Not that it’s easy to see what exactly this destination is, particularly once readers are faced with some massive revelations - like the big one toward the end - and a constant barrage of betrayals and treachery that is guaranteed to have your head spinning wildly.

The Wisdom of Crowds is mainly a study of the effects of long-suppressed rage at widespread injustice, and of what happens when exasperation’s fires are fed beyond their conflagration point: the wisdom in the title is used in a darkly sarcastic way, of course, because what we witness in the course of the Great Change is the total obliteration of any civilized rule and a plunge into the kind of collective madness that occurs when the baser animalistic instincts take the place of the oh-so-thin veneer of civilization draped over them.

As usual, Joe Abercrombie manages to seamlessly blend his peculiar brand of humor into the most appalling situations, managing to elicit a smile - or even a laugh - when least you expect it, while pointing out how far easier it is to destroy what does not work anymore than to find the means to build something better. We are treated to several scenes in which the new government spends inordinate amounts of time foolishly debating the wording of those changes without actually implementing any, while nearby the madwoman named Judge sends hundreds of people - guilty and innocents alike - to their death.

Such upheavals are of course bound to impart profound changes on the characters we have come to know, and it’s hardly surprising that some of them end up being quite different from the people they were at the beginning of the story. Savine is certainly a case in point: while she retains some of her former drive for power and self-preservation, her harrowing encounters with danger and death, and her recent motherhood, seem to have awakened her conscience, slightly tempering her ambition and making her more human. It’s not a complete turnover, of course, not given her established personality and the teachings imparted by her father Sand dan Glokta, but it’s a definite improvement over the ruthless socialite bent on profit at any cost that she was at the beginning.

King Orso and Leo dan Brock seem to exchange their respective roles here: the former was a reluctant ruler who preferred drinking and womanizing over learning the rules of kinghood, the latter was the highly praised warrior and hero with a bright destiny in his future. Events transform them profoundly, and where Orso becomes a true king in his captivity, submitting to it with humorous gallantry and ultimately showing a kind of subdued bravery that moved me deeply, Leo turns into an embittered, violence-prone individual more focused on the lost glories of the past than on the needs of the present.

A truly tragic figure is that of Gunnar Broad, the former soldier who keeps promising - to himself and his family - that he’s through with bloody violence: events keep proving him wrong and he finds himself constantly enmeshed in situations that force him to rely on his darker instincts. In a way he reminds me of the Bloody Nine, who strove to be a better man without ever managing to fulfill this vow.

I’ve left my favorite character for last: Rikke. As the daughter of the Dogman, all her life she’s been weighted down by her father’s legend and the need to prove herself, a girl, in the world of these Northern hard warriors - and by the heavy toll of her unpredictable precognitive ability. Here she comes into her own, successfully managing to balance the ruthless strength necessary to rule (“make your heart a stone”) with the desire to act for the best of her people. You will encounter many surprises along Rikke’s journey, together with the heartwarming relationships with her two closest advisors, the cunningly uncouth hill woman Isern-i-Phail and the grizzled Caul Shivers, who seems to have found some inner balance here, if confronted with the man I came to know in Best Served Cold.

Joe Abercrombie’s novels always prove such an immersive experience that it’s hard to move out of his world and return to reality: my only solace is represented by the standalone First Law books I have still to read and the implied promise of this one that the story is not over, that there are some still-hanging threads that might, one day, turn into other equally engrossing books. Time will tell…

A cutting satire of political revolution with wonderfully dark humor and a grim mess of an outcome that will leave you wanting more.

'The Wisdom of Crowds' is Abercrombie's most political book to date - some of it subtle, some of it banged over your head with the flat of a blade before it guts you with sharp commentary. 'The Trouble with Peace' ended on the cusp of The Great Change, and I thought 'Wisdom' would take some time before the Change itself became the centerpiece to the story. But there was no time wasted, as the big battle was gotten out of the way early. I was surprised to see a lengthy 'Little People' section (a consistent favorite of mine) occurred so early in chapter 2 when the narrative hopped around POVs during the madness of a battle. It was at that point in time when I realized that the book wasn't going to focus on the war itself, like his standalone, 'The Heroes,' but rather the aftermath of it, while attempting to answer the question on everyone's mind -- what now?

And as expected, it all turns to shit. The Great Change is a change alright, but if you think it's for the better, then this must be your first rodeo. 'Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss,' rings true as new figures come into power, and the sadly laughable truth of hopeful democracy versus the greed of plutocracy comes to light. And with it, the horrific violence of an angry, repressed people who have decades of scores to settle.

In the North, both Rikke and Black Calder are attempting to out-maneuver each other for full control of the North. Although I love Rikke as a character, I found this to be the weakest section of the book. The planning and execution of their battle strategies and war preparations felt like we’ve gone down these paths before. It’s all very well written, but plot-wise it didn’t feel that different from many other North battles we’ve read since The Blade Itself.

There are tragic characters, such as Gunnar Broad and King Orso, who try to be good but cannot escape their cruel fates. There are characters who were heroes of days gone by that morph into despicable beings by book's end. There are long-simmering revelations, and loose ends that are tied. You will find that some people who should have learned the most will never learn. And there is an exciting passage toward the end of the story that leaves me thinking that the author has the bones of the next trilogy already in mind.

Although Abercrombie's plot twists were a bit predictable this time around, 'Wisdom' easily stuck the landing of this dark, grim, political satire, rife with Shakespearean tragedies and sneaky gallows humor...

… and they all lived happily ever after!

4.5 / 5

The Age of Madness series has kept me more emotionally invested than any First Law story since reading the original trilogy. It does so in a way that feels fresh and modern while still maintaining everything that made its predecessors so special – from its strange but lovable characters to the insane mental power struggles inside their heads.

While every book in this fantasy world is good in its own way, this one proves to be one of the best thanks to consistent writing for both main and side characters, a compelling political story with good pacing, mysterious magical abilities that surface evermore slightly, and perhaps most importantly, character dialogue that offer more depth and complexity with big and most small decisions that actually impact the story in meaningful ways throughout the course of all 3 books. Most of its fresh ideas go a long way toward elevating the First Law formula into the modern era. Joe Abercrombie has also done a great job of expanding this universe toward both grander and more intimate threats without losing the humor of the original.

Most importantly. The Wisdom of Crowds is a not so gentle sendoff to the rag-tag group of characters we’ve known for years and the ones we have only known for a limited time. A worthy end, indeed.

Full review to come on my YouTube channel

“‘Thought we were meant to be free!’ he whined, a string of drool hanging from his lip.
‘Turns out liberty needs boundaries.’”

Here we are, at the stunning conclusion of The Age of Madness trilogy. This trilogy absolutely solidified Abercrombie in my top five favorite authors of all time. It is some of my favorite work. I often call myself a book masochist; as much as I despair at my favorite characters being put THROUGH it, I greedily inhale more. A good author can make the emotional pain hurt so good! Being an Abercrombie fan takes book masochism to a new level. It’s like being in an endless boxing match and eagerly getting up for another punch to the face. Or rather, it’s like being in one of Abercrombie’s infamous Circles, knowing that you’re going to end it with a sword to the heart, but letting the adrenaline carry you to the end.

The Wisdom of Crowds started off at such a heightened state of terror that it caused my neck to prickle with anxiety from the beginning. This novel takes off at breakneck speed and does not let up. It might be one of the most brutal Abercrombie books I’ve read. Honestly, this whole trilogy took off into a level of brutality that is a completely new flavor than the previous novels. That’s saying something— Abercrombie is well known for his unbridled savagery in his writing. It was chaotic, messy, heartbreaking, and a hell of a ride. There are some moments that we see coming, because we know that Joe isn’t going to spare our hearts, but they are always expertly done.

“‘He was dragged up again by the elbow. A strange gang. Like the people you might see at one of the cheap markets. Only furious. And [redacted] realised that ordinary people can be utterly terrifying.’”

The aspect of the common people rioting and starting a revolution was a very natural progression throughout his First Law world. It has been a long time coming, but that doesn’t mean I worried over some of our characters any less. I have grown fond of some of these extremely flawed people. I maintain that Orso is one of the best characters that Abercrombie has written, and I mean that in the most literal sense. Orso has an insight to himself that is needed by a leader and also actually cares about the people he’s supposed to be ruling over. I’ve said it before, but if Orso had been allowed to rule the way he wanted to at the beginning, a lot of the destruction could have been avoided. This is Abercrombie’s world though, and there are reasons why that couldn’t happen. Also, I truly LIKE Orso. He’s witty and is constantly making me laugh. He’s much braver than he seems on the surface. I really enjoy a lot of First Law Characters and count them along my favorites; the Bloody Nine, Glokta, Savine, and Shivers, to name a few. We know that they are morally grey, though. Orso is actually endearing and almost uncorrupted—just so dang likable! This is a miracle in this world.

Per usual, Abercrombie treats us to the duality of humanity; good people turn cruel, and cruel people become the saviors. The Wisdom of Crowds is a timely installment, at a point in our world where people around the globe are demanding more of the powerful people leading. Voices are being heard, insightful and ignorant alike. The common people of Abercrombie’s world are realizing how effective they can be as a cohesive unit, as well.

It’s also timely in its observation of the limitations of freedom. There’s a certain level of belief in unbridled personal freedom that leads to foolishness. With this Great Change ushered in by the people, along comes gross miscalculations, destruction, and the sacrifice of innocents. Abercrombie makes us wonder: can we ever truly do something for the greater good without causing harm? At what point do we choose remaining stagnant as a society versus accepting the alarming costs of a revolution? Is there a leader out there capable of carrying out their good intentions without abusing their power or marginalizing others? Why do we succumb to the mentality of the mob? And finally, just because the voice of the ‘Crowd’ rises to the top, does that always mean they are right or know best?

Ah, but that’s what I love about Abercrombie. He writes these gloriously merciless novels that are simultaneously bursting with wisdom and a sardonic view of humanity’s ability to NEVER learn from the past. I could have quoted no less than twenty highlighted moments from my kindle version that were so eloquently put and deserved to be heard, but that would have been overkill. He writes about the dangers of leaderships and the dangers of anarchy. He writes bone-chilling moments of people savagely fighting for their life; these fantastic portrayals of blood and death that are enough to make us squeamish with their honesty. Good people die, bad people live. Sometimes people get their revenge, other times they are at the mercy of another’s revenge plot. Sometimes the free people really want to be told what to do (albeit, nicely). The wheel of power keeps shifting. And as always, that damn Bayaz hangs on like a cockroach in an apocalypse.

“‘The voice of the people… is just noise. It is the blather of the lunatics in the madhouse. It is the squeal of the pigs in the slaughterhouse. it is a choir of morons. Most of them don’t even know what they want, let alone how to get it. They need someone to tell them what to do.’”

All hail Lord Grimdark! I’ll be anxiously waiting in the Circle for the next knife to the heart.
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