3 Answers2026-03-31 00:13:02
Ohhh, the 'Gideon the Ninth' universe! If you loved the bone witches and necromantic space operas, you’re in luck—there’s absolutely a sequel called 'Harrow the Ninth.' It cranks up the weirdness to 11, swapping Gideon’s brash voice for Harrow’s fractured psyche, and oh boy, the unreliable narration will make you question reality. Muir’s writing feels like being trapped in a haunted Rubik’s cube, but in the best way.
And guess what? The trilogy wraps with 'Nona the Ninth,' which introduces a whole new mystery child protagonist. The series just keeps evolving, from gothic horror to apocalyptic feels. I binged all three back-to-back and still found new details on rereads—like how Muir plants clues in throwaway lines that explode later. The audiobooks? Chef’s kiss for Moira Quirk’s performance.
3 Answers2026-03-11 02:23:20
Gideon Nav is the absolute star of 'Gideon the Ninth,' and she’s the kind of character who makes you want to cheer from the first page. A sword-wielding, sarcastic, and downright hilarious orphan from the Ninth House, Gideon’s got a chip on her shoulder the size of a planet—and for good reason. She’s spent her life trapped in a dreary, corpse-filled necromantic hellhole, dreaming of escape. When her childhood rival, the necromancer Harrowhark Nonagesimus, drags her into a deadly trial to serve as her cavalier, Gideon’s journey becomes this wild mix of brutal sword fights, snarky comebacks, and unexpected emotional depth.
What I love about Gideon is how unapologetically herself she is. She’s crude, reckless, and hides her vulnerability behind jokes, but she’s also fiercely loyal and has this raw, untapped potential that keeps you rooting for her. The book’s blend of gothic horror and sci-fi is already cool, but Gideon’s voice—full of pop culture references and exasperated sighs—makes it unforgettable. By the end, you’ll either want to be her or be her best friend.
2 Answers2026-03-31 15:49:19
Gideon the Ninth is this wild, gothic sci-fi mashup that feels like someone threw a skeleton rave into a haunted house and added swords. The story follows Gideon Nav, a snarky, sunglasses-wearing orphan with a serious sword obsession, who’s stuck serving the Ninth House—a death-obsessed necromantic cult. When the Emperor invites the heirs of all eight Houses to compete for immortality, Gideon gets dragged along as the cavalier (bodyguard) to her nemesis, Harrowhark Nonagesimus, the Ninth’s bone-witch heir. The vibe? Claustrophobic space castle full of puzzles, murder, and skeletons—so many skeletons. The duo’s toxic frenemy dynamic is hilarious and heartbreaking, especially as the competition turns deadly and secrets unravel. What starts as a locked-room mystery spirals into cosmic horror, with betrayals, necromantic power plays, and a finale that’ll leave you screaming. Muir’s writing is dense with memes, Latin, and sword lesbians—it’s like if 'The Locked Tomb' was a Tumblr thread come to life.
Honestly, the plot’s hard to pin down because it’s constantly subverting expectations. One minute it’s a dark comedy about Gideon’s grumpy inner monologue, the next it’s a tragedy about loyalty and godhood. The magic system? Necromancy with bone constructs, soul shenanigans, and a lot of gross body horror. The setting? A decaying space empire where everyone’s either a goth or a himbo. I adore how Muir blends genres—part murder mystery, part queer romance, part existential nightmare. The ending’s a gut punch, but it makes the rereads even more rewarding when you spot the foreshadowing hidden in Gideon’s jokes.
3 Answers2026-03-31 00:14:41
Gideon the Ninth is one of those books that snuck up on me like a skeleton in a dark hallway—startling, weirdly charming, and impossible to forget. Tamsyn Muir’s debut is a wild cocktail of gothic horror, necromantic sci-fi, and razor-sharp wit, with Gideon herself as the foul-mouthed, sword-swinging heart of it all. The prose is dense but delicious, packed with memes, Latin puns, and bone magic that feels both ancient and freshly dug up. I devoured it in two sittings because the dialogue crackles like a live wire, and the mystery had me second-guessing every character’s ulterior motives.
That said, the first 50 pages are a bit of a hurdle—there’s a lot of jargon and names thrown at you, and the pacing lurches like a reanimated corpse until the plot kicks in. But once it clicks? Oh, it clicks. The audiobook’s narration by Moira Quirk is stellar too, if you prefer someone growling 'nonagesimus' directly into your eardrums. Just be ready for a cliffhanger that’ll leave you screaming into a pillow—and immediately downloading 'Harrow the Ninth'.
3 Answers2026-03-11 05:07:12
Gideon the Ninth is one of those books that hooked me from the first page with its wild mix of sci-fi, necromancy, and razor-sharp humor. While I totally get wanting to read it for free—budgets can be tight!—I’d honestly recommend supporting the author, Tamsyn Muir, if you can. The book’s got such a unique voice, and it’s worth every penny. Libraries often have copies or digital loans, and some legit sites offer free samples or discounts. Pirated versions float around, but they’re sketchy and miss out on the joy of owning a well-loved paperback or crisp ebook.
That said, if you’re strapped, check out platforms like Scribd’s free trial or Kindle’s 'try a sample' feature. It’s not the full book, but it’ll give you a taste of Gideon’s snark and the bone-filled grandeur of the Nine Houses. Just be warned: once you start, you might end up sprinting to a bookstore to finish the ride.
3 Answers2025-06-19 06:12:01
Absolutely! 'Gideon the Ninth' got a sequel called 'Harrow the Ninth', and it’s just as wild. The story shifts to Harrow’s perspective, diving deeper into her fractured mind and the cosmic horror lurking behind the necromantic empire. The tone gets even darker, blending psychological torment with grotesque body horror. If you loved Gideon’s snark, brace yourself—Harrow’s voice is dense, poetic, and utterly unreliable. The sequel expands the universe, introducing godlike beings and twisted magic systems that make the first book’s puzzles feel tame. It’s a challenging but rewarding read, especially for fans of complex character studies and layered mysteries.
3 Answers2026-03-11 14:20:23
Gideon the Ninth is one of those books that either clicks with you instantly or leaves you scratching your head—but in the best way possible. I picked it up because I kept hearing about its wild mix of necromancy, swordplay, and bone-dry humor, and wow, it did not disappoint. The protagonist, Gideon, is this brash, foul-mouthed swordswoman stuck serving a death-obsessed noble house, and her voice is just chef's kiss. The way Tamsyn Muir writes her snark feels so fresh, like someone injected a pulp fantasy novel with neon-lit internet humor. The plot starts as a locked-room mystery in a gothic space palace and spirals into something much weirder and more emotional. It’s not for everyone—the jargon-heavy worldbuilding can be a hurdle—but if you vibe with Gideon’s attitude, you’ll devour it.
What really hooked me was how the book balances its tonal extremes. One minute you’re laughing at Gideon’s exasperated inner monologue, the next you’re gutted by a moment of vulnerability between her and Harrow, her nemesis-ish necromancer. The 'lesbian necromancers in space' tagline undersells how layered their relationship is. And that ending? I had to sit staring at the wall for a solid ten minutes afterward. Fair warning: the sequel, 'Harrow the Ninth,' cranks the confusion dial to eleven, but in a way that feels rewarding if you trust Muir’s chaotic vision.