Joe Abercrombie returns with The Devils, the first entry in a brutal, barbed new fantasy series that proves he still reigns as the master of morally grey mayhem. This isn’t your average crusade. Instead, it’s a blasphemous journey led by a timid bureaucrat, a cadre of sinners, monsters, and heretics—and a Church willing to sanctify the unthinkable for a just cause. Rich in gallows humor, densely plotted, and steeped in bloody spectacle, The Devils reads like Suicide Squad meets The Canterbury Tales, as imagined by a cynical cleric with a flair for the dramatic.
Fans of Abercrombie’s The First Law and The Age of Madness trilogies will find themselves right at home—and maybe just a little more uncomfortable than usual.
The Plot: Penance, Politics, and Profane Power
The Devils by Joe Abercrombie begins with Brother Diaz, a bureaucratic monk with little battlefield experience and a talent for mediocrity, summoned to the Sacred City expecting praise and promotion. Instead, he’s tasked with leading a “holy” mission made up of the Church’s most expendable and dangerous prisoners—“devils” that include a necromancer, an elf, a vampire, a dishonored knight, and a deadly rogue.
Their goal? To stop external threats like flesh-hungry elves and sorcerous insurrections, and internal corruption within the Holy Faith. The book unfolds across a complex landscape of betrayal, war, resurrection magic, political upheaval, and relentless dark comedy.
Abercrombie’s narrative stitches together these characters’ perspectives with tight prose, ensuring that even as the action escalates, character development never takes a back seat.
Meet the Monsters: Character Study
Brother Diaz
Our unlikely “hero,” Diaz is a study in nervous inertia. Initially meek and comically out of depth, he undergoes one of the most compelling arcs in the book. As he confronts spiritual paradoxes and political cruelty, Diaz’s moral awakening feels earned, not ordained.
Balthazar Sham Ivam Draxi
A necromancer of flamboyant arrogance and absurd talent, Balthazar is perhaps the novel’s most magnetic figure. His dramatic monologues and disdain for decorum provide both comedy and terror. Despite his sinister talents, he reveals surprising depths of loyalty and—dare we say—integrity.
Vigga, Jakob, Sunny, and the Others
Each member of the devilish ensemble gets their moment. Jakob of Thorn is the grizzled knight defined by pain and discipline. Sunny the elf is unsettlingly silent but deadly, while Vigga’s explosive fury and strength are as fearsome as they are necessary. Abercrombie excels at giving even the most depraved or monstrous characters slivers of humanity—or at least understandable motivation.
Worldbuilding: Ruins, Relics, and Religion
The world of The Devils by Joe Abercrombie is a palimpsest of civilizations—crumbling Holy Cities built atop the bones of even older empires, stitched together by faith, power, and centuries of hypocrisy. The Church is both majestic and monstrous, capable of crusades and cover-ups in equal measure. Cities teem with pilgrims, relic-mongers, and heretics. The contrast between sacred rhetoric and profane reality is the beating heart of the setting.
Abercrombie takes inspiration from medieval Europe, but filters it through a darkly satirical lens. The presence of necromancy, alchemical weaponry, and creatures like vampires and elves adds gothic and horror undertones to the otherwise sword-and-cloak political drama.
Themes: Faith, Expediency, and Moral Rot
At its core, The Devils by Joe Abercrombie is about the contradictions within institutions—especially those claiming divine authority. The Church in this book is both the savior and the sinner, willing to employ forbidden magic and condemned monsters “to do good.”
Abercrombie doesn’t offer neat resolutions or preachy parables. Instead, he digs into:
- The ambiguity of virtue: The Twelve Virtues feel hollow when weaponized for political convenience
- Redemption and damnation: What does it mean to redeem the irredeemable? Is service born from coercion true penance?
- The machinery of power: Through both religious and military institutions, we see how violence is codified and sanctified
This moral murkiness is not merely thematic—it drives character decisions, plot twists, and reader discomfort in the best possible ways.
The Abercrombie Touch: Writing Style and Structure
Joe Abercrombie’s prose in The Devils is razor-sharp. He melds ironic dialogue, macabre humor, and sudden brutality in a way that feels effortless. Fans will recognize his trademarks:
- Witty, grim banter that masks deeper existential dread
- Vivid combat sequences that balance cinematic flair with gritty realism
- Reluctant heroes stumbling into moments of clarity—or carnage
The novel is divided into four distinct parts, mimicking the structure of a theological tome or liturgical calendar, each titled with sardonic echoes of saints’ feast days or spiritual milestones (Saint Aelfric’s Day, All Bad Things). It’s a clever and consistent touch that reinforces the book’s central irony: that damnation and salvation are often one bad decision apart.
Critique: Where the Hellish March Stumbles
Despite its excellence, The Devils by Joe Abercrombie has a few sins of its own:
- The pacing drags mid-narrative: Between large-scale set pieces, some scenes become overly talky or expository, particularly those establishing church politics or world history
- The ensemble is occasionally too crowded: While Abercrombie handles most characters with deftness, a few feel underdeveloped or overshadowed. The elf Sunny, for instance, remains enigmatic to the point of detachment
- Abrupt tonal shifts: Some scenes pivot rapidly from grotesque to slapstick, which, while signature Abercrombie, might disorient new readers unfamiliar with his brand of “dark mirth”
Still, these are minor blemishes on an otherwise masterful work.
Comparative Context: Where It Stands Among Abercrombie’s Works
Abercrombie is no stranger to grim tales of war, faith, and failed idealism. With The First Law trilogy (The Blade Itself, Before They Are Hanged, Last Argument of Kings) and the more industrial-themed Age of Madness series (A Little Hatred, The Trouble With Peace, The Wisdom of Crowds), he’s proven time and again his ability to blend gritty action with dark philosophical musings.
The Devils by Joe Abercrombie marks both a continuation and departure. It is:
- More gothic in tone, echoing Best Served Cold’s personal vengeance and Red Country’s thematic westward expansion
- More overtly theological, almost a counterpoint to the revolutionary fervor of The Age of Madness
- Just as bloody, but perhaps even funnier
Fans of authors like Mark Lawrence (Prince of Thorns) and Anna Smith Spark (The Court of Broken Knives) will find much to admire here.
Final Verdict: Should You March With The Devils?
Absolutely—if you can stomach it. The Devils by Joe Abercrombie is a snarling, unrepentant, high-octane meditation on faith, fear, and fatalism. Joe Abercrombie hasn’t just returned to form—he may have sharpened it.
This is not fantasy to soothe or escape with. It’s fantasy that cuts, that questions, that laughs at the horror of the human condition and then offers you a sword made of sin.
Recommended for readers who:
- Crave morally grey characters doing glorious, terrible things
- Appreciate high fantasy grounded in brutal politics and sharp satire
- Want their theology with a side of necromancy
A bold, brutal beginning to what promises to be Abercrombie’s darkest—and perhaps most devilishly clever—series yet
