Book Review: Requiem (Delirium, #3) by Lauren Oliver
I’ve been anxiously awaiting the release of Requiem, the final installment in Lauren Oliver’s Delirium trilogy, ever since the heart-stopping cliffhanger of Pandemonium left me jonesing for more. I mean, who wouldn’t count down the days for a series that had captured their heart so deeply? Yet, here I am, writing this review with a heavy heart and a disappointing revelation: my rating has dropped from a dazzling 5 stars to a meager 2.
Let’s just say I pulled the rug out from under my own feet here. I can hear the collective gasps and the whispers of disbelief. But trust me, I have my reasons, and it’s not just knee-jerk dissatisfaction. Before delving into the nitty-gritty, let me acknowledge the absolutely breathtaking prose Oliver has crafted throughout this series. Her ability to paint vivid pictures and deliver raw emotions kept me turning pages even when my patience wore thin.
However, when I dove into Requiem, the excitement transitioned into an unsettling emptiness right from the beginning. After the gripping momentum built in Pandemonium, I expected a swift and thrilling continuation, but instead, I was welcomed by a jarring start that felt disjointed. As I yearned for the much-anticipated reunion between Lena and Alex, the author seemed to fast-forward through pivotal moments, leaving me feeling like I was missing the crucial pieces of a puzzle.
The character arcs, particularly those of Lena and Hana, disappointed me. While I thought Hana’s perspective could add depth, it instead felt like a missed opportunity. Overall, both characters faded into blandness – the rich complexity I’d once admired seemed diluted. As I trudged through the book, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was dragging on, filled with soap-opera-esque banter and hardly the electrifying action I’d anticipated.
By the time I reached the three-quarter mark, I was writhing in my seat. "Is this it?" I thought. The so-called climax felt more like a fizzle than the blaze of glory I had envisioned. Important character interactions that could have provided closure were sidelined. Lena’s confrontation with her mother felt lifeless, devoid of the emotional heft I expected.
I can’t discuss this book without addressing the ending—oh, that painful, infuriating ending. It left me gasping for resolution that never came. I was reminded of Breaking Dawn’s ambiguous finish; the anticipation built up only to crash in a whirlwind of confusion. What about Lena’s relationships? What unresolved fates awaited the characters I had invested my heart in? The lack of closure left me hanging from a cliff, and trust me, I was not given a rope to pull myself back.
I’d hoped for a lesson woven into the story, but perhaps Oliver focused too much on delivering ambiguity rather than satisfaction. For readers craving a tightly-woven conclusion, Requiem may leave you feeling adrift.
In conclusion, while I admire Oliver’s lyrical writing and the world she built, Requiem ultimately felt like an unrealized promise. Maybe it will appeal to those who enjoy open-ended narratives, or those who appreciate a narrative that ventures into the emotional unknown. However, for someone like me—hungry for closure and resolution—it was like being served a half-baked dessert at the end of a long meal. So here’s my heartfelt advice: If you’re deeply invested in the world of Delirium, prepare yourself for a bittersweet ending. It’s a bold take, but one that may just leave you feeling emotionally drained.
Final Rating: 2.5 stars.
