Confessor by: Terry Goodkind (A Violent Reactory Review)November 20, 2007
Some books are not meant to be listened to. Confessor by Terry Goodkind is one such book. If you have any mercy left for your ears and your mind, then please don’t listen to its audio book.
Spare yourself from endless justifications and explanations. What could be glossed over in a few minutes with a real book could literally extend to an hour when spoken out loud. On one part of the book I wished the former Prelate dead for her endless tirade on why Nicci should whore herself to Richard Rahl. Nicci would not allow it, and it took about an hour for Anne to get her point. The revelation was, however, irrelevant for Ann. She died almost as soon as she realized Nicci’s point. The Sisters of the Dark would have to be profoundly dumb for them not to notice such a long conversation. They mercifully spared Nicci and me another hour of Ann’s talk.
If you still want to listen to it, then prepare yourself for total unrealism that even minds possessing the greatest potential for the suspension of disbelief could not justify. People screaming for their lives would stop whatever they’re doing and listen to Richard’s endless tirades on the validity of his cause and the futility of theirs. To their credit, at the least they resumed screaming when Richard was over. Deus ex machina pervaded almost every scene. I was left with no element of suspense to hold onto. I knew everything would turn out right.
And for the love of everything short, simple, and crisp; don’t listen to endless repetitions in it. Almost everyone who has a speaking voice in the book couldn’t resist doling out his or her opinions in explained, expounded, and dissected formats. If I were the book’s editor, I would have reduced its size by half and the story would have proceeded just as fine if not better.It came to a point that I was so fed up with it that I almost vowed never to read any book of the Sword of Truth saga ever.
Unfortunately, Confessor is the last book of the saga, and I was in the third to the last chapter. I had to finish it. In one scene, Richard was telling some people that they can never return to where they came from. If I were one of them and was told, “you can never return here,” in no less than ten repetitions in more than ten different variations, then I wouldn’t ever want to return to the place where the tireless, whining voice resides.
Now if you love yourself, please don’t listen to the book. Read it, and skim through the boring, repetitive, and unbelievable parts. You would have spared yourself torture from listening to the droning voice for endless hours. If you’re lucky, perhaps, you would even find the book a great read.