Argh. Am about a third of the way in, and it turns out I'm really, really tired of reading "awesome books about awesome girls!" in which their awesomeness is in direct proportion to their utter rejection of anything "girly." You can be an awesome girl! Just so long as you stay away from icky girl things! Yes, horseback riding and swordfighting are (generally) more thrill-a-minute than needlepoint, but this doesn't have to be an either/or proposition. Why must a longing for adventure and excitement always be coupled with a loathing of the inadequacies of female life? It too easily slips, at least in this reader's eyes, from despising the limitations and restrictions of womens' lives throughout much of history/fantasyland history into despising the women themselves.
Maybe I'll get around to finishing it one of these days after my ire subsides.