In the world of Graceling, some people have “graces”, unique and extraordinary talents. Katsa (teenage female protagonist) has the Grace of killing.

The Graced belong to the king, and so does Katsa. The king, her uncle, uses her for his purposes, which are mostly unpleasant. Most Graced are feared and despised, and Katsa of course doubly so because of the nature of her Grace. Naturally she comes to also despise herself.

She has no friends, hasn’t had any for a long time, and doesn’t even know how to have friends, since her grace manifested itself at the age of eight. But then she meets someone who sees something else in her and actually becomes her friend. Although one has to wonder why, because Katsa is childish and immature, usually angry, and often lashes out in anger at everyone around her (verbally or physically).

She goes on a quest of a kind (solve a mystery, save some innocents and destroy some evil people, the usual stuff). En route she gradually comes to see her grace and her self with new eyes. And of course she finds love as well, and the future is bright etc etc.

With its simple heroics and simple romance, Graceling solidly falls in the YA category. Katsa is a strong character, easy for teenage readers to like and identify with. It plays to every teenager’s feeling of being an outsider and not fitting in. And unlike most teenage heroes, Katsa has a teenager’s feelings (perhaps more strongly than most). She is passionate, often angry, storming. She searches for her place in the world and for her own identity.

We have a strong character and strong feelings, some really strong scenes and a few very strong ideas. But the rest of the book is pretty weak. The plot veers from predictable to making no real sense. All supporting cast are clichés, with stereotypical evil kings, good-looking princes and sassy urchins.

It isn’t really bad, but I really wouldn’t say it’s a good book either. It kept me reading all the way to the end, but as soon as I took a step back, the flaws became glaringly obvious. I don’t mind reading about teenagers, but I do mind that the book almost feels as if it was written by a teenager. It may be that Kristin Cashore grows up and learns to write more maturely; in the meantime I won’t be looking to read any more of her books.