Prophecy of the Sisters is about the twin sisters Lia and Alice who have just become orphans. Their mother died when they were young, and with the recent passing of their father, they've also become enemies. Locked in a prophecy, the sisters must fill their roles and unlocked the tangled mysteries.
Every now and again, I buy a book that looks interesting and doesn't quite fit the bill. Prophecy of the Sisters is definitely one of those books. Unlike when I read the other books, I keep picking this up, reading a few chapters, and putting it down with a sense of disappointment. Prophecy of the Sisters isn't written in a way where it's constantly captivating. It's one of the few first person books that I've read, and for some reason, that only drags the book down further.
The way that the book is written puts me off. The common "elegance" of 19th century America seems very flaky and lacks sustenance. While reading it, I can envision the characters as amateur actors without a real understanding of characterisation or emotions. Harsh as it is, I believe this to be the truth. The characters all seem bland and stiff. Their elegance chalky, leaving a bad taste behind with every scene they're in. So much so that even understandable emotions of surprise, fear, or anger just seem false and leave me feeling unimpressed.
I understand characters being confused and saying things in their confusion that seem a bit... obvious, but there's something about Lia's naïveté that comes across as frustratingly juvenile. It's almost as though she's completely unaware of herself and her surroundings. Lia comes across as more than just a sheltered girl—she's too young in her mannerisms, too sweet, and too pampered
The story's idea of the prophecy does actually capture my interest, but since the story is from Lia's POV, the prophecy's mysticism is somewhat dampened. I'm not sure how I feel about this book as a whole as it feels a lot like something else too many times.
The middle of the end of the book makes everything decidedly more interesting, and the actual end got me almost excited. Not just because it was over but because it seemed so definitive and adventurous—a contrast to the rest of the book entirely. After the final tragedy, I finally found myself to be invested in the ongoings of the plot (even if certain parts still made me roll my eyes), but by then it was too little, too late, and the book was over far quicker than I expected.