Capitana by Cassandra James: A Word of Caution
When I first stumbled upon Capitana by Cassandra James, I was drawn in by what seemed like an enticing premise: a young girl on a quest to prove herself in a world of law and order amidst her family’s scandalous past as pirates. But after diving into this book, I wish I could say I was enraptured. Unfortunately, Capitana turned into a journey I never wanted to take, and one that left me more frustrated than fulfilled.
From the outset, I must thank NetGalley and HarperCollins for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review. This context is essential, especially since my reactions to Capitana have not been gentle. As of today, the book is officially published (February 4, 2025), and while many authors receive enthusiastic congratulatory messages, I feel compelled to send a different kind of message: steer clear.
At the center of the story is Ximena Reale, a character I found infuriating. Honestly, I didn’t know reading could provoke such intense irritation for a fictional character. Knowing that she was a 17-year-old merely adds to my disbelief that Ximena could evoke feelings akin to wanting to physically confront her. She embodies an extreme superiority complex, investing all her energy into becoming a cazadora – a law enforcer – despite her parents’ notorious past. It’s commendable to chase your dreams, but Ximena’s unwavering, often blind allegiance to the cazador way was exhausting. The lack of character growth or any introspective moments made the read feel more like punishment than pleasure.
Cassandra James’s attempt at world-building and character dynamics fell flat for me. Ximena, in her need to prove herself, remains an echo of a stereotype – the “gunner.” Her relentless pursuit to adhere to the law becomes almost repetitive, underscoring her myopic vision. I felt trapped in a narrative that insisted on reminding me how important law and order was, leaving me yearning for even a hint of depth from her character. Meanwhile, the supposed romantic subplot with Dante de León was painfully absent of chemistry, more akin to avoiding confrontation than any earnest connection.
Yet, it wasn’t just Ximena who bore the brunt of my scrutiny. The supporting characters, including Dante and Pía, felt like they were rendered one-dimensional. While I found some enjoyment in Dante’s character arc, it would have been refreshing to dive deeper into his complexities rather than solely Ximena’s stubborn mantra of law-abiding propaganda. I even rolled my eyes at the incessant reiteration of following the law will protect you – please, my tolerance for clichés has its limits.
In terms of writing style, you’d expect a debut from a graduate of an Ivy League institution to be polished. Sadly, it felt more like a rough draft that needed substantial editing. Dialogue often felt repetitive, leaving me longing for originality. I genuinely couldn’t believe a story promising complex characters served up such mediocrity.
Reflecting on the experience, I can’t help but feel disappointed. I found a spark of intrigue in the plot twist at the end, and I appreciate cliffhangers for a bit of suspense, but it’s not enough to entice me to pick up the next book in this supposed duology. In light of the author’s apparent controversial opinions leaking into the narrative, I feel compelled to take a step back entirely. It’s disheartening when the story fails to deliver on so many fronts.
Ultimately, if you’re a reader who enjoys flawed characters, lackluster romance, and repetitive narratives, Capitana might still pull you in. Otherwise, I’d recommend saving your time and energy. Art should resonate, inspire, or provoke thought – this, unfortunately, did none of those things for me. I leave you with a stern recommendation: pass on this one.
Rating: 1 star (and that feels like a stretch).
Trigger Warnings: Death, murder, colonialism, physical assault, genocide, public executions.
