When You Love a Book the Internet Hates
Am I wrong for loving The Devils?
I enjoyed the hell out of Joe Abercrombie’s The Devils. This is not a hot take among the general reading public. The book had a stellar year: bestseller lists, massive sales,1 Hollywood interest2—the whole shiny package.
The internet disagrees.
I love trawling forums after finishing a book I liked. Usually I find fan theories, clever text analysis, or some stray fact that retroactively makes me enjoy the story even more. My expedition for The Devils led me to a different conclusion: for a lot of Abercrombie fans, this book was a letdown.
Yes, I’m cherry picking. Plenty of people enjoyed the book as much as I did.3 And maybe the backlash is just math: the bigger something gets, the bigger the love and hate get with it (e.g., Taylor Swift). Maybe it’s that longtime readers are holding it up against the rest of his catalog and finding it wanting.
But my first foray into the forum discussions made me feel like a Nickelback fanboy who just learned the internet’s true opinion of a band that has sold over 50 million albums.
My confusion is grounded in the fact that the internet freaking loves The First Law trilogy, which I hated. The books are well written. The themes are fascinating. And the ending made me so angry that I vowed to never read another Joe Abercrombie book again. My feelings have led to enough real-life arguments with friends that I probably should reread the series (I won’t).
I would have kept my vow if The Devils hadn’t popped up as a “Skip the Line” option at my library on Libby. Much like Abercrombie’s characters, I hold my moral positions loosely when an opportunity arises. I gave it a chance and ended up devouring the book.
How am I constantly on the wrong side of the Abercrombie vibes? Why did it work for me—and not for so many longtime Abercrombie readers?
My personal biases are a factor. I was raised Roman Catholic, so the book’s detailed—and at times ridiculous—religious machinery hits a deep, familiar nerve. I have the maturity of a teenager, so the constant sophomoric humor is very much in my wheelhouse. I love alternative histories, so the warped medieval Europe the characters traverse was pure fun.
But more than any of that, I loved the engine of the story: characters with no reason to like each other, forced—by an unbreakable binding cast by a child-pope of stupidly immense power—to travel together, cooperate, and make something like a team. They don’t necessarily change. They bend. Their spirits break and reform in scarred versions of their original shape. It’s great.
Maybe I’m right. Maybe the internet is right. I’ll confess: I still think “How You Remind Me” is a banger. So my track record here isn’t stellar. The First Law trilogy is probably “objectively” better than The Devils, but I’ll never read it again.
None of this is going to stop me from buying the sequel when it comes out and watching whatever adaptation James Cameron eventually unleashes on the world.
I’m going to keep liking what I like—even when I’m the fool.
Books I Referenced:
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The Devils by Joe Abercrombie
The First Law Trilogy
Nickelback!?!
The book was Abercrombie’s best selling release to date, debuting at no.1 in the UK and no. 5 in the US, and selling around 420,000 copies in 2025 alone. (https://joeabercrombie.com/2025-in-review/)
James Cameron purchased the rights to adapt the book. (https://bleedingcool.com/movies/james-cameron-acquires-the-rights-to-adapt-the-devils/)

