Karpyshyn stated in advance that some fans who had played through KOTOR were going to be disappointed, that the Revan of the novel would be different to the character many gamers had created, both in terms of personality and power. Fair enough. Bioware created an RPG where fans' choices would affect the development of Revan's character and where by the end he would be an unstoppable badass, because in gaming terms that makes perfect sense. For a novel, the canon light-side Revan was the natural choice for the character, and his talents would have to be downgraded because it's hard to create a sense of tension and risk if the protaganist can easily mow down any opposition he faces.
The problem is that the criticism Karpyshyn was trying to anticipate was a straw man. The problem isn't that Revan can't take down a half-dozen enemies with one force power, or that after having his memory wiped and being brainwashed by the Jedi he somehow decided to follow the Jedi way. What drew me - and, I hazard to guess, most fans - to a Revan novel was the fascinating complexity and thoughfulness that had gone into Revan's backstory, as revealed in conversations with those who new him in the KOTOR games, especially Kreia, HK-47, the Disciple, and Atton in KOTOR 2. They told a story of a man who saw through the childish philosophy of the Jedi Code and turned aside from it when he knew it was necessary, without, crucially, instantly going to the other extreme and becoming a pantomime villain of a Sith Lord. The idea was that Revan was a Jedi who saw a threat the magnitute of which the Republic was structurally incapable of dealing with. Knowing from bitter experience (the Mandalorian Wars) that he could never convince those in power of the need for radical action, he decided to create - by force - an imperial dictatorship capable of resisting an invasion by the 'true' Sith. Yes the conquest would be brutal and destructive in the short term, but he deliberately avoided damaging infrastructure during his attack on the Republic in the hope that in the long term he would be able to rebuild and strengthen so as to save the galaxy from the horrors of complete devastation. Whatever you think about the decision, it raises fascinating questions ripe for exploration as literary themes: when does the end justify the means? what constitutes necessary evil? what if you do something terrible for the greater good but then fail in the process (as Revan did) so that the greater good never arrives and only the terrible deeds remain?
Instead we have this paper thin plot, with paper thin characters (read the other reviews for summaries). There's good and evil and straight heroes and villains, none of whom are remotely interesting because they're absurdly two-dimensional. Canderous, given such surprising pathos in both KOTOR games, is a half-baked sidekick. Bastila goes from the strong and principled but arrogant and naive woman of the first game into a simpering stay-at-home mum. The exile is just your run-of-the-mill Jedi. T3 buzzes about for no apparent reason, while the much more interesting prospect of HK's involvement never materialises. The new Sith are instantly forgettable stereotypes, while the emperor only stands out because he's ridiculously powerful (although as one reviewer has already noted, he's really Darth Nihilus Mark II, except nowhere near as intriguing or intimidating as Obsidian made Nihilus in Kotor II). Revan himself mouths platitudes about neither Jedi or Sith being right and harmonising between light and dark, but his character is essentially a wise-cracking (with jokes that aren't funny) Luke Skywalker light. Oh, and (spoiler) it turns out he only invaded the Republic because the emperor did some magic on him and Malak. Brilliant.
We knew to expect this of course. Matt Stover tried to deal with some of the above questions when - for a brief moment - he turned the EU intelligent with Jacen and Vegere in Traitor. It even looked like they were continuing it with the intriguing opening to Legacy of the Force, before Troy Denning and the editors put their foot down and Jacen by the end of the series had seemingly arbitrarily transformed into Darth Voldemort.
To summarise, this isn't great. It's a run of the mill Star Wars novel, which for a writer who showed such promise in at least the first Bane novel is itself a disappointment. Even worse, he's done it to Revan, who has become so popular among Star Wars fans despite only appearing in a couple of games almost a decade old precisely because he was compelling and different, a Jedi more assertive and calculating than any other Jedi, a Sith more humane and restrained than any other Sith. Furthermore, the prose is average at best (for those who ask what else to expect from a Star Wars novel, read Stover, or Karen Traviss, or even Denning), and repeatedly dips into being juvenile and crass; it shows no improvement since Karpyshyn's first novel, which is worrying. Meanwhile, the author's general structuring, plotting and character development seem to be getting worse as time goes on.
Those looking for a typical Star Wars novel, go ahead. Fans of Revan, avoid. Instead, dig out that old copy of Kotor II, find all the parts for HK, play as a female character so you can get the Disciple, and make sure to gain influence with him, Atton and Kreia. Then listen to them talk about Revan, and try and forget you ever heard this novel existed.