Demonic Cage by Adèle Dan

Book: Demonic Cage: Demonic Cage Series 1. by Adèle Dan

Reviewed by Halliday in the Books

On the ten-year anniversary of her brother’s death, Lotte is trying to make a change. She decides to stop taking the medication that’s been altering her perception of the world for over a decade. Supposedly, it brings her experience closer to the version of reality that those around her share, but something still feels wrong. So, she breaks the daily habit. Once she does, she immediately begins to question the decision when her nightmares begin to solidify. To her terror, she finds the change irreversible. Both demonic and equally-horrifying angelic beings pursue her while she begins to manifest power she doesn’t understand.
Torn between worlds and caught off-balance, Lotte agrees that yes, she wants out of her current situation. The admission costs more than she thought she was bargaining for, and she finds herself in Hell, held by the Darya, the king of the demons. Neither he nor his realm are what she expects. Apparently, both he and the “angels” have conflicting plans for her. She knows nothing about these angels, but she’s heard enough about Hell and demons that she knows she doesn’t want to stay with Darya. She’ll have to find a way to escape. Perhaps even more importantly, she’ll need to figure out what to do next.
The promised reinterpretation of Heaven and Hell was a big part of what drew me to this book, and it delivered on that front. I like seeing when a binary morality system gains more ambiguity and shades of gray. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the gradual unveiling of character backstories. For example, all of the demons have a history of sin. On the surface, some are more sympathetic than others. However, as their stories get retold or new details arise, it feels much like looking through a series of funhouse mirrors. The differing angles through which you see the story change your perception of it greatly. It becomes far harder to judge. I really enjoyed watching the way characters shifted.
While that increased my interest in the characters and kept me turning pages, it also made it hard to know who to root for. While a lot of the cast becomes either likeable or fun to hate (or even both interchangeably), I was unable to feel invested in any of their respective motivations. I was too skeptical of those with clear motives, and the others left little to rally behind. For instance, we know we want a happy ending for our protagonist, but neither she nor the readers have any idea what that looks like. Thus, the ending felt less climactic than it may have been otherwise because we don’t have an ideal to compare it against. I do imagine that will resolve in the next installment of the series, which is currently out in the original Hungarian, but not yet in English.
An amount did get lost in the translation. There were a number of moments where an awkward word choice left me confused. Attempting to puzzle out intended meanings pulled me out of the story each time, as did the instances of unnatural dialogue. Some readers will overlook these moments more easily than others.
Readers should also be mindful of their current state of mental health before going into this one. Those with relevant diagnoses or trauma should especially take care. There are a number of serious trigger warnings on this one. Its portrayals of psychiatric medication and therapy are also very dark. In the right headspace, I can see this narrative being an empowering one with the direction I see it going. However, I could also see it having a much more detrimental effect for someone in a more precarious place.

Read full review on ARC Library