BOOK REVIEW OF
Red Rising
Red Rising Series (Book 1)
Pierce Brown
Reviewed by Ella Law (with Gemini & NotebookLM)
Updated December 28, 2025 | Published November 8, 2025
Table of Contents
🔴 CSR-4: Explicit & Dark Themes – Adult Readers Only
Read more about The Obsidian Library’s Content Rating Scale here.
⚠️ CW: 🩸 Graphic Violence, 🚨 Sexual Assault, ⚰️ Death & Grief, 💔 Trauma, 🧠 Psychological Manipulation
✔️ This book contains intense physical violence (including explicit descriptions of gore and torture), institutionalized brutality, rape, psychological warfare, and themes of suicide, oppression, and identity erasure. While marketed as YA by some, the content is more appropriate for mature readers ready to confront visceral and disturbing subject matter.
📖 Introduction & Why This Book Matters
Pierce Brown's Red Rising opens with the bones of the oppressed—literally. Set on a colonized Mars ruled by a rigid color-coded caste system, Darrow is a "Low-Red" Helldiver who mines helium-3, believing he's helping terraform the planet for future generations. His people—of song and dance and family—labor beneath the surface, celebrating small victories while enduring brutal conditions.
The truth? Mars has been habitable for over 700 years. Society has long since moved on without him, using his people as expendable slaves. When his wife Eo is executed for daring to sing a forbidden song of rebellion, Darrow is recruited by the Sons of Ares, a shadow resistance, to infiltrate the ruling Gold class by becoming one of them.
But this isn't a clean-cut sci-fi rebellion. It's a brutal, bloody dissection of empire, hierarchy, and identity—one where survival often requires becoming the monster you fear. Red Rising doesn't pull punches—it smashes skulls, tests souls, and demands you question whether justice is ever truly clean.
The plot of Pierce Brown’s Red Rising, Book 1 details the transformation of Darrow, a low-caste Red miner, into a revolutionary Gold agent within the tyrannical Society that rules the Solar System, culminating in his victory at the ruthless Institute competition.
The narrative is structured into four distinct parts, chronicling Darrow’s journey from slave to a feared warlord known as the Reaper.
✍️ Plot Summary
Pierce Brown's Red Rising follows Darrow, a "Red," as he fights his way out of the lowest caste in the color-coded society of the future to the top, all in the name of rebellion. As a Helldiver, he toils beneath the surface of Mars, believing his sacrifice will make the planet habitable for future generations. But Darrow and his people have been betrayed. He discovers that humanity reached the surface generations ago, and that vast cities and lush gardens spread across a planet he was told was uninhabitable. Darrow is not a pioneer; he is a slave.
Driven by the memory of his lost love and a yearning for justice, Darrow joins the Sons of Ares, a shadowy rebel group. To bring down his oppressors, he must become one of them. Physically transformed into a Gold—the physically superior ruling class—Darrow must infiltrate their legendary Institute, a brutal proving ground where the strongest rise and the weak fall. There, amidst the savage competition of the ruling elite, he will fight not just for his life, but for the future of his people.
Red Rising is a dark, visceral tale of vengeance, strategy, and survival. Perfect for fans of The Hunger Games and Ender's Game, this novel asks a terrifying question: What are you willing to become to break the chains?
💡 Key Takeaways & Insights
The Cost of Power Isn't Just Pain, It's Identity Darrow doesn’t just train—he’s remade. Through excruciating surgery, his body is carved into the image of a Gold, stripping away everything that marked him as a Red: his eyes, his hair, even the calluses from a lifetime in the mines. When he asks, “Is any part of me still here?” the question lands with gut-wrenching force. His transformation isn’t just physical—it threatens his identity. And the haunting thought that the Golds may rule the universe not only through oppression, but through engineered biological supremacy, becomes a fear he can’t easily shake.
The System Is the Real Villain Learning that the Reds had been lied to for over 700 years hit me like a gut punch. These people weren’t just oppressed—they were buried. Kept in literal darkness, fed myths of noble purpose while unknowingly serving a society that had long since abandoned them. They believed they were pioneers, sacrificing for the future of mankind, when in reality they were expendable labor fueling a machine that thrived on their ignorance. Brown doesn’t reveal this betrayal with a single twist—he lets it unfurl slowly, insidiously, the way real systemic lies often do. And when the truth lands, it’s not just a plot point—it’s a reckoning. It wasn’t just clever world-building—it was a mirror held up to how institutions maintain power through illusion, selective history, and control over truth.
Mustang Proves That Loyalty Is Chosen Mustang's decision to betray her own brother, the Jackal, and help Darrow win wasn't just bold—it was revolutionary. I admired her for seeing Darrow's potential, not just his strategy, and aligning herself with a better future rather than her inherited power. Her integrity and intellect made her not only a standout character but a beacon of hope in a brutal world.
Some Friendships are Forged by Circumstance, Others are Tested by It Where Cassius falters—trapped in grief and pride—Sevro rises. Sevro is everything a true friend should be: loyal, perceptive, and brave enough to stand by Darrow even when the truth gets dangerous. He understands the stakes, the roles they play, and the cause they serve—and he chooses Darrow anyway. His loyalty is messy and imperfect, but it’s real. Cassius, on the other hand, once called Darrow "brother,” only to later forsake him when the cost of forgiveness proved too high. That contrast cut deep. It reminded me that real loyalty doesn’t just show up during triumph—it shows up after betrayal, when choosing someone still feels like a risk.
Revolution Without Humanity Becomes its Own Form of Tryanny Darrow's confrontation with Titus—another carved Red who’s lost his way—isn’t the most shocking moment in the book, but it is one of the most psychologically important. When Darrow realizes Titus is also a Red, revealed through slip-ups in slang and disturbing memories of past violence, it hits like a warning flare. Titus is what happens when rage overtakes purpose, when pain isn’t tempered by vision. Their final exchange is heartbreaking: “We were so different. I thought we would be the same, but you made friends and I never did." In that moment, Darrow isn’t just seeing a failed rebel—he’s seeing the version of himself that might have been, if not for luck, love, and a few loyal allies
🤯 The Most Interesting or Unexpected Part
The moment Darrow realizes the Institute’s brutal competition isn’t just about war—but about empire-building—everything shifts. Catan meets Lord of the Flies doesn’t even capture it. The Golds don’t simply fight; they manipulate, seduce, betray, and conquer. And the real twist? Darrow is better at it than they are—not because he’s stronger, but because he knows pain. He knows what it’s like to be powerless. If the Institute is designed to terrify Golds by forcing them into a Red-like position within their own rigid hierarchy, Darrow already knows that lesson by heart. His familiarity with subjugation, his lived experience, becomes his greatest advantage. He sees through their tactics—like when he realizes he’s been deliberately left alone with Julian’s ring after the culling, engineered to wallow in guilt before stumbling into a staged bonding ritual. That awareness gives him an edge no Gold education ever could. That knowledge becomes his weapon. And it’s terrifying to understand the brutal edge this knowledge arms him with.
🏛️ How This Book Applies to Real Life
This book didn’t just portray a rebellion—it invited reflection on what revolutions require. Darrow’s journey—from the intimacy of dancing with Eo under stolen starlight to the violence and manipulation of the Institute—raised thoughtful questions about power, control, and the psychology of uprising. It prompted me to consider how systems maintain authority, how individuals are shaped by oppression, and how easily noble intentions can blur into morally gray actions when survival is at stake.
Who should read Red Rising?
Fans of fast-paced dystopian fiction with rich world-building and high-stakes power games
Readers who enjoy The Hunger Games, Ender's Game, or Dune
Anyone who wants to explore how systemic inequality manipulates truth and identity
The novel's color-coded caste system isn't just a sci-fi concept—it's a reflection of real-world class divisions and propaganda. Brown's commentary on power structures, compliance through comfort, and the erasure of historical truth feels alarmingly timely.
📚 Final Rating: 4.5 / 5
🎯 Should you read it? If you have the stomach for gore, the emotional fortitude for betrayal, and the curiosity to question systems of power—yes. But don't be fooled by the young protagonist or sci-fi setting. Red Rising is not a light dystopian romp. It's a visceral, brutal, and unflinching dive into what it takes to survive and subvert an empire.
🔥 Final Thought: This book doesn't just explore darkness—it forces you to sit with it. From graphic executions to systemic rape and psychological torture, Red Rising asks whether changing the world is worth losing yourself in the process. It unsettled me, opened my eyes, and left me both angry and energized. It wasn't a clean hero's journey—it was a messy, necessary one. Like blood under your fingernails, it doesn’t wash off easily. And maybe it shouldn’t.