Even though this is the sequel to Divergent, the transition isn't as jarring as graduating from middle-school comp to high-school AP English. Veronica Roth decided not to go all Jeffrey Eugenides on us with long, lyrical sentences and obscure references to Greek mythology. She (well, her sixteen-year-old narrator, Tris, to be more precise) still uses sentences of simple construction. Short, sweet, and to the point.
The book as a whole, however, cannot be described with any of those three words. It's over five-hundred pages long, throws in a few a plot twists at the end, and has more characters to keep track of than a Lord of the Rings battle scene. And there are almost as many casualties. We try mourning the losses but, honestly, the fewer characters we have to keep up with, the better. Despite all this, Insurgent is like a king-sized bag of potato chips: once you're done with it, you're still going to want more.