Book reviews by Mobilism's Book Review team
Sep 20th, 2014, 9:19 pm
Image

TITLE: Girl of Fire and Thorns (Girl of Fire and Thorns #1)
AUTHOR: Rae Carson
GENRE: Young Adult Fantasy
PUBLISHED: 20/09/2011
RATING: ★★★★★
PURCHASE LINKS: Amazon
MOBILISM LINK: Mobilism

Review: Girl of Fire and Thorns has been justifiably hailed as a beautifully original opening to a wonderful trilogy. Young Adult is a genre bloated with copy-cats who merely mimic the successful novels that have come before, and too many are bland and predictable – but Rae Carson’s debut shatters the genre clichés right from the get-go.

First of all, the main character – Elisa – is not typically beautiful. In fact, she’s not even white. Thus she immediately stands out against the tide of cookie-cutter YA heroines (not that there aren't many wonderful ones, but I think most YA fans will admit that the majority are dull as dishwater). Rather than the Bella Swan-esque trope of the pretty girl who doesn't know she’s pretty, Elisa is dark-skinned and grossly obese. When we first meet her, she describes herself as looking like a ‘sausage in silk’ as she tries to fit into her wedding gown.
‘I am a sausage,’ I gasp. ‘A big, bloated sausage in a white silk casing.’

I finished this book a few days ago, but it was a reread. The first time I opened up the pages, I was genuinely shocked by Elisa. Carson doesn't try to minimise Elisa’s weight, or the fact that it’s self-inflicted; throughout the book, we constantly see Elisa eating large portions of food, snacking whenever she has the chance, and, to be blunt, generally stuffing her face. Considering that we live in a fatphobic society, I find it interesting that Carson decided to make her character obese, and so unapologetically – Elisa is occasionally embarrassed by her weight, and doesn’t consider herself beautiful, but she doesn't often think about it and is never self-pitying or ashamed. There is no fat-shaming here, only a novel-long illustration of a wonderfully intelligent, decisive young woman afraid of failing her God.

Because this is a religious story, at least in one sense. Despite the fact that Elisa’s religion calls their deity God, and often uses quasi-Christian terminology in its hymns and prayers, Elisa is not Christian. Carson slowly drops details concerning the religion throughout the story, such as the holy sacrament of pain – wherein the congregation pricks their fingers on the thorns of a holy rose, and lets the blood fall onto a brazier – but the major factor for Elisa’s story is the fact that every 100 years, God chooses a bearer, someone who has a major purpose to fulfill in their life. These bearers are marked with Godstones, blue gems set into the bearer’s navel that pulse and change temperature according to circumstances. And Elisa is the first royal ever known to bear a Godstone.

Not that she is crown-heir. She isn’t: her elder sister Alodia is first in line for the throne, and both of them are glad, since Alodia is in every way a better Queen-in-waiting. Elisa is content studying religious texts and war strategy, and eating her favourite pastries.
God should have chosen her; she is athletic and sensible, elegant and strong. Better than two sons, Papá says. I study her as I chew my pastry, her shining black hair and chiseled cheeks, the arched eyebrows that frame confident eyes. I hate her right back.

Well… Maybe not completely content.

The novel opens with Elisa’s wedding: at sixteen, and with just a week’s advance warning, she is to be married to the king of the much larger neighbouring kingdom. Elisa is self-conscious about her weight and not wholly surprised when Alejandro, her new husband, makes no move to consummate the marriage – but she is somewhat alarmed to discover, when they return to Alejandro’s home, that he has no intention of announcing to his country that they have a new queen.
“I’m going to ask you to keep a secret for me,” he says as Ximena brushes past into the room. He looks the same as he did on our wedding night, his eyes cinnamon brown in the candlelight. “I’m not ready to reveal that I've married. It’s something I must save for the proper time.”

This is not a love story, although love is an important theme winding its way through the book; the love of a mother(-figure) for her child, the love between friends, the love of a monarch for their people, and, yes, romantic love. Alejandro himself is only the smallest part of the challenges Elisa faces, although he was instrumental in creating (or worsening) most of them; primarily the story is one of responsibility, both to one’s people and one’s god. Elisa has to discover what it really means to bear a Godstone, and what it really means to be a queen – and whether she can succeed at either.
“God always chooses well, my child. I will help you any way I can.”

I take a deep breath to still the fear that vibrates in my chest. “If he chooses so well, why have so many bearers failed?”

It’s not the most unique synopsis, but the details – and execution – make it shine. Hints are dropped which suggest that Elissa’s world is a post-Earth society, escaped from a dying Earth to this new planet and forgetting much or most of their original history. The cast of Girl of Fire and Thorns are all dark-skinned, with the only Caucasians being the invaders to the north, with their evil animagi magicians. And of course, the text itself is written in present tense, which is not something I've seen done before for an entire novel. It takes a few pages to get used to, but actually works extremely well, making the entire story much more immediate and emotionally riveting.
I'm not sure what to do next. The carriage provides cover, but it burns. Even now, smoke licks the floor above, curling around the panels like white snakes. Feet patter by at eye level. Our enemies are barefooted demons, nearly naked and painted in black-and-white swirls. Anklets of tiny bones clatter as one darts in and out of the jungle. Lunge, sidestep, disappear; then another takes his place. Their attack has no pattern. It is random, constant, indefensible.

Look, wherever you expect this book to go, it’s not going to go there. This isn't a romance. It’s not even a princess story. You'll pigeonhole each character as you read, because that’s what we've been taught to do, and you will never get it right. They will never do what you expect them to do. Think these characters are going to end up together? Nope. Think she will make this choice? Nope. How about that one? Not that either. Oh! There’s a war! It will be resolved in this way!

NOT A CHANCE.

Girl of Fire and Thorns seems to revel in defying every possible expectation, from what a heroine is supposed to be and do, to how a story is supposed to go. It’s wonderful, and I can't wait to dive (back) into book two. This, people, is what Young Adult is supposed to be – the kind of book that ought to be on school reading lists. If you haven't read it already, well – what the heck are you waiting for?
Sep 20th, 2014, 9:19 pm
Sep 30th, 2014, 4:12 am
good
Sep 30th, 2014, 4:12 am
Sep 11th, 2015, 6:19 am
This book was so, so good and I agree with what you said in your review. Though not original, the execution is wonderful and I read the book through in one day.
Sep 11th, 2015, 6:19 am