Hello there, Tor dot readers, and welcome to the reread of Leigh Bardugo’s Grisha Trilogy! I did the reviews for the first two books here on Tor.com, so I’m pretty excited to be back to enjoy them a second time with all of you.
This post will cover chapters 1 through 13 of the first book in the trilogy, Shadow and Bone. Obviously there will be spoilers ahead, including mention of events that occur in later sections or later books as I consider craft and foreshadowing and things like that.
So, what is it about these books that so many people love? Is it the characters? The Russian flavor added to the fantasy world? The elemental powers of the Grisha? Or something else? I remember how much I loved the books when I read them, but it has been awhile, so this question is one of the things that I’d like to explore as I read them a second time. I’m especially interested in how the character of the Darkling reads to me on the second go-round, both in the sense of how the mystery is constructed as well as how much the character appeals. The pull between Alina and the Darkling is such a crucial element to the story, and I think one of those things that readers really responded to when the books came out.
Alright, enough talk. Let’s get to summoning. (I mean recapping. But summoning sounds cooler.)
Prologue to Chapter 3: Summary
Shadow and Bone opens with a prologue in which we meet the boy and the girl, two young war orphans living on the estate of a philanthropist Duke. We learn that the boy and girl are inseparable and that they have no one but each other. We also learn a little bit about the Grisha, whose powers are viewed as magical by the general populace, although the Grisha themselves consider their abilities to be a kind of science. These Grisha have come to examine the boy and the girl to see if either of them have Grisha powers, and the two children realize that if only one of them has such abilities, they will be separated.
Chapter 1 takes us forward to the girl and the boy as young adults during their army service. Our narrator is Alina Starkov, a mapmaker and scrawny, sickly girl with few friends. The boy is Mal Oretsev, the handsome, popular tracker. And of course, Alina has a huge crush on her best friend, and he seems to have eyes for all the prettiest girls.
Mal and Alina’s regiment is preparing to cross the Shadow Fold, also known as the Unsea, a mysterious band of impenetrable darkness separating West Ravka from the rest of the country. After nearly getting run down by a carriage carrying Grisha soldiers and the highest ranking Grisha of them all, the Darkling, Alina muses over the origin of the Shadow Fold, which was created hundreds of years ago by another darkling known as the Black Heretic. The Fold decimated once fertile lands and disappeared the people who had lived there, and now it cripples Ravka by separating the main part of the country from the port cities. Worse still, it is inhabited by monstrous winged creatures called the volcra, which eat people. Alina is terrified of crossing the Fold, but Mal reassures her; he reminds her that they have Grisha fire wielders, or Inferni, to fight off any volcra if necessary, and promises that the two of them will sneak off for a drink together by the sea once they make it safely to West Ravka. Alina is still scared, but she’s also pleased at the idea of spending time alone with Mal, they way they used to, instead of her being a tag-a-long with the gregarious young man and his friends.
Unfortunately, the journey across the Fold does not go as smoothly as Mal had hoped, and the travelers are set upon by a swarm of volcra. Mal saves Alina from being carried away, but he’s injured in the process, and the soldiers and Grisha are quickly overcome. Panicking at the thought of losing Mal to the volcra bearing down on her, Alina puts herself between her friend and the oncoming monsters, and, as she’s overwhelmed with fear and anger, she finds her vision exploding in white.
When Alina wakes up, she’s a prisoner being returned to the same camp that they left, having somehow driven the volcra away and terrified everyone in the process. She is taken before Darkling, and the battered survivors of the attack slowly reveal what they saw; that Alina somehow summoned light and drove away the volcra. Although it seems impossible that no one knew that she was a Grisha, the Darkling and the others confirm that she is, in fact, a Sun Summoner.
Commentary
It feels odd to say I love these books and have my first comment be a criticism, but I have to be honest here—I don’t really like prologues as a device. The thing is, the whole point of this particular brand of prologue is to set the reader up with a little piece of information that they don’t yet have the context to understand, but that will be very important to the central plot later down the road. For me, I think this prologue gives away too much. It’s made very clear that the boy and girl are completely reliant upon each other, and are so alarmed at the prospect of being separated that they face the examiners like “a man defending his home with nothing but a rock in his hand.” Even on my first read, I was quickly able to deduce why Alina’s powers had been suppressed for so long, and why she goes on to struggle with being able to call her power as a result. There was no mystery there for me. I had all the clues up front instead of having them revealed slowly as I worked through the mystery with Alina. Given that Bardugo uses a first person narration in the main body of the book, restricting the reader’s knowledge to only what Alina knows, it doesn’t make sense for us to have this bonus info. Even if it hadn’t given too much away for me, I don’t think you gain anything more by having the scene in a prologue than you would if it was in a flashback at the relevant moment in Baghra’s hut. In fact, most of the information is repeated in Alina’s memories as she works through her emotions before her ultimate breakthrough.
Also, without the prologue we can start right into chapter one. I really love the way the chapter opens, because it is full of action, and because Bardugo is really great at description. Whenever she details a scene, or a person, or a location, I always feel completely immersed in it. The start of the first chapter drops us right in the middle of Alina marching with her regiment, and we get a great taste of the world, the people, and of Alina and Mal and their strained relationship. I liked Alina’s snark immediately, and I also liked that one of the first things that we understood about her was her fear. It gave an immediacy to the story and I also think it gave us a very good look at Alina’s position in life; she’s not just an orphan without a real home, but she is in a greater sense directionless and unsupported. When they cross the Fold we get to see for ourselves how and why it is so frightening for everyone, but I found the vulnerability in Alina’s expression of fear particularly compelling. As a low ranking member of the army, doing conscripted service, her terror of the Fold is about more than just a dangerous supernatural occurrence that exists in this world. It’s about her completely lack of control in her life, and her lack of agency.
When Alina contrasts herself with Mal, she sees something different than what I see. She is, after all, not without her own set of talents; she’s quick-witted, observant, and she has enough drawing and mathematical talent to be a mapmaker, which is actually a real skill, although she seems to dismiss it as unimpressive. The thing is, Alina’s self-doubt and lack of friendships don’t really come from her being useless or ugly or any of the things that she attributes it to; it’s the fact that she is aimless, and therefore completely reactionary. She’s only quick-witted in comebacks, she never uses her humor or sarcasm to make friends or engage with people, only as a defense. She misses Mal, but she never makes any movement to bridge the gap between them. She wants friends, but doesn’t seek them out; even Alexei, her mapmaker buddy who she loses on the Fold, seems to make all the overtures in their friendship. She clearly cares about him too, but she doesn’t engage actively in the friendship very much.
Mal, on the other hand, wants friends, and has them. He enjoys his work, and is very good at it. He is making a life for himself, even though their situation is limited and impoverished, and it is that, more than any other difference, that separates Alina from Mal and makes it impossible for them to connect the way they did when they were little.
And of course, when Alina gets whisked off to the Little Palace to go to Grisha school, none of this changes. Yes, she likes the idea that she can maybe help Ravka, she likes the idea that she might have a place to belong. She has a crush on the Darkling and wants him to be proud of her. But what she really wants, for herself, is as elusive as it was when she was a mapmaker, and that thread carries us through the long montage of her life at the Little Palace.
Chapters 4-11: Summary
Alina is taken to the capital of Ravka, surviving an assassination attempt and several fraught conversations with the Darkling along the way. In Os Alta, she encounters the denizens of the Grand Palace, including the King and Queen of Ravka, and the Apparat, a strange and creepy religious figure who lurks around trying to get Alina alone to talk about the power of the saints and their suffering. She also meets Genya, a Grisha girl whose unique abilities to alter people’s physical appearance have led to the Darkling making her a servant to the queen of Ravka, and who becomes Alina’s only true friend at the Little Palace, where the Grisha live and train. Alina is subjected to lessons, both in books and physical trials, such as her combat training with the old soldier, Botkin, and her summoners training with Baghra, a mysterious old woman who lives in a hut on the grounds and has the ability to amplify a Grisha’s power simply by touching them. The Darkling also has this power, but although she struggles and trains and does her best to navigate Grisha politics, Alina finds that without the touch of one of the living amplifiers, she cannot summon her power at all.
Alina does learn more about Grisha abilities in her time training at the Little Palace, and she makes new friends among the Etherealki, or Summoners, the Grisha group to which she technically belongs, although as the only Sun Summoner she stands apart in many ways, just as the Darkling does. She learns that there are other kinds of amplifiers, items made from parts of animals, that can enhance a Grisha’s power. When the Darkling suggests that he would like to get an amplifier for Alina, and not just any amplifier, but the most powerful one conceivable, made from an antler from the (somewhat mythical) Morozova’s stag, she is overjoyed by the idea. Unfortunately, the stag proves difficult to find, and Alina has to be content to wait, and to trust the Darkling, as he asks.
Commentary
Full disclosure, I’ve always loved long, Tolkein-esque descriptions of scenery entirely too much, so I’m pretty susceptible to Bardugo’s lengthy exposition about locations. The fact that she’s so good at it helps with the book’s odd pacing and the way we get big chunks of action followed by long winding chapters dealing with Grisha politics or Alina camping alone in the woods. I don’t really feel like, from an objective, plot-driven standpoint, some of the long descriptions of the palaces or the clothes really add anything to the book, but boy did I enjoy reading it all the same. I feel like I can picture everything exactly how Bardugo describes it, and that is such a gift in a fantasy novel.
Also, for all that Alina usually has little active impulse to connect with people, she makes a real friend in Genya, and it is Alina who reaches out, rather than the other way around. I don’t think it’s any wonder that Alina feels more at home with Genya than any of the other people she meets at the Little Palace; although Genya has been raised in the luxury of the court and Alina grew up orphaned and poor, Genya’s position as a servant rather than a regular Grisha allows her and Alina to share a sense of being outsiders as well as—and I find this most significant—a lack of agency in their own future. Genya could have been either a Corporalki or a Materialki, but instead the Darkling directed her fate in a different way, and that has led to ostracisation and suffering for Genya. As we know from where she ends up later in the book, Genya is also waiting on the Darkling and for his plans for her to unfold. She and Alina both are waiting, trusting him, and letting him decide their fate.
I also love that Genya is a caretaker. Her desire to look after Alina is not quite motherly, but there is a nurturing aspect to it that I find very interesting, and that manifests itself in simple things, such as her genuine caring about making Alina feel better about herself, from helping Alina with her looks to more serious situations such as her impulse to protect Alina from her feelings for the Darkling. A lot of Alina’s other interactions with women her age involve a lot of cattiness, faked friendships, and downright hostility, so I really appreciate seeing a woman using her more worldly understanding to look out for her friend.
I’ll be revisiting Genya again, but I think Genya’s role in facilitating Alina’s breakthrough is important thematically; Genya and Alina are each other’s only friends in a very similar way to the duo Mal and Alina were as children, and Alina ends up losing her friendship with Genya by the end of the book, even as Mal has been restored to her.
Chapter 12: Summary
But the amplifier isn’t the only thing Alina is waiting for. Despite all the glamor of Grisha life, the nice clothes and the plentiful amount of food, the room all to herself, Alina continues to feel as useless and out of place as she has her whole life. She sleeps poorly and has little appetite, and she is constantly hiding her inability to summon from the other Etherealki she spends time with. She desperately misses Mal, and despite writing him copious amounts letters, she hasn’t heard a word in return. Finally, she asks Genya to see if she can find out where Mal is stationed; his name has never come up on the lists of those killed in battle, but Alina fears that her letters aren’t reaching him because his regiment is moving around too much, or worse, because Mal was gravely injured and is lying wounded in a hospital somewhere. But when Genya confirms the location of Mal’s regiment and that he is safe and well, Alina feels as though another terrible fear has been proven instead. Mal doesn’t care enough to write her. Despite their childhood closeness, Alina has long felt that she and Mal were drifting apart, and now that she is out of his life completely, it seems that he has forgotten her.
Hurt and angry over the loss of the one thing that gave meaning to her life, Alina goes down to visit Baghra, but she doesn’t feel up to trying anymore, and her temper flares easily under Baghra’s customary nagging and teasing. When Baghra presses to know what’s wrong, Alina answers that nothing is wrong, again and again, eventually turning to leave. But when Baghra asks, mockingly, what is waiting for Alina outside the hut, Alina’s grief comes flooding up, and she finally confronts her feelings over being left behind by Mal. For so long Mal was all she had, and now she realizes how hard she has been holding onto Mal, and for how long.
A memory comes flooding back, and suddenly Alina remembers the Grisha examiner taking her arm, and something deep inside answering a strange call. It is the same call, she realizes, that she feels when the Darkling or Bagra touch her, and she remembers the power that was ready to rise up to the surface at the examiner’s touch. And she remembers, too, how she suddenly knew that she was different from Mal, and that she would be taken away from him to learn to be a Grisha, and she made a decision not to let her power show. Ever since that day, she has been fighting to keep her power locked away, and it has taken all her strength, leaving her weak and sickly and helpless. Even though she thought she had been trying hard to summon her power in her lessons with Bagra, the truth is that she had still been holding onto hope that she wouldn’t really be a Grisha, wouldn’t really be the Sun Summoner, and that she would be sent away. Back to Mal, the only person who has ever been her home.
But now Mal has let her go, and Alina realizes that she has to let Mal go, too. And as she does, she turns her focus inward, apologizing to that piece of herself that she has suppressed and hidden for so long. She tells it that she is ready now, and the light comes.
Commentary
This brings us back to my observations about Alina’s character in Chapter 1. I’ve seen some reviewers complain about Alina’s particular brand of uncertainty and self-deprecation as being too much of the same old teenage girl trope that is so common in YA right now, and I think those people are really missing the point. Alina’s journey is about how she has suppressed a huge part of herself, what that has done to her, and how the question of being true to this part becomes increasingly complicated even after she realizes that it is there.
The Darkling makes several comments about how Grisha power works, and although Alina doesn’t fully understand it yet, there is enough information given that the reader can begin to put things together. Alina’s weakness, her lack of appetite, her constant fatigue and inability to sleep, are all caused by the suppression of her power. When she finally realizes that she has been suppressing it, she realizes that she “used up every bit” of herself to keep the secret of her power buried. But it isn’t just that she exhausted herself with the effort, but also that she was not a whole person without her power. When she finally begins to use it she becomes stronger and healthier yes, but also, that lack of direction, of agency that I was talking about in Chapter 1 starts to disappear. Alina starts caring about things, having more concrete desires than not wanting to be useless at everything. She craves food, she wants more time with other people, and she even starts taking joy in the physical challenges of Botkin’s training and in learning to use her power. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that we even see more of her taking an interest in court gossip and Genya’s life after her breakthrough.
Chapter 13: Summary
Alina immediately shows off her power to the other Summoners, from whom she has been hiding the fact that she has not been able to summon unassisted until now, and she finds herself newly invested in her life at the Little Palace. Food and sleep are suddenly desirable and pleasurable, she finds some of Botkin’s instruction an exciting challenge, and she enjoys learning more about her power, even though she still doesn’t exactly love Baghra’s lessons. She also experiences her emotional and physical transformation through her time spent with Genya, who takes her to try on some of the Queen’s gown and shows her a girl in the mirror who is very different from the sickly reflection that Alina is used to seeing.
Baghra pushes Alina hard, now that they finally have something to work with, and Alina feels herself grow stronger and more confident every day. But one day when she is training the Darkling shows up to confer with Baghra, and they both agree that her power won’t be great enough to do what needs to be done. Alina is eager to prove herself, and her rising confidence leads her to agree with Baghra’s suggestion that the Darkling should give up on the stag and give her a different amplifier. But the Darkling insists that he cannot risk Ravka’s future on a less powerful amplifier.
The Darkling walks Alina back across the grounds to the Little Palace, and the two have a frank conversation about Alina’s desire to be useful and her fears that she hasn’t lived up to his expectations, and he surprises her by apologizing in turn for asking her to trust him about the stag and then not being able to deliver. He seems to have let his guard down, and Alina asks him why he cares what she thinks about it. “I don’t know, ” he answers, “But I do.” And then he kisses her.
The two are interrupted by a messenger and go their separate ways, but although Alina tries to distract herself by spending time with her Summoner friends and by practicing with her power alone in her room, the memory of the Darkling’s kiss proves too much of a distraction.
Commentary
There is some powerful imagery in the last sentence of this chapter. The light shatters, leaving me in darkness. I didn’t call the Darkling as the villain when I read the book the first time, but now I can see how he uses Alina’s romantic attraction to him to distract her from her important questions. As soon as she starts pushing him, as soon as she starts asking about Baghra, there he is with his kisses and his cute reactions to her snark and it’s just really convenient, isn’t it? I think the first person narration was really helpful in distracting me from being more suspicious of the Darkling’s motives the first time round; Alina doesn’t pick up on any weird vibes, and the Apparat’s creepy and gross behavior makes for a very good red herring. But once you get a more knowledgeable perspective, that manipulation really hits you where you live.
Of course, even before adding a sexually suggestive element, the Darkling’s physical relationship with Alina is already manipulative in ways she doesn’t really think about. In Chapter 4, she was struggling with fear and revulsion toward him after he used the Cut on the Fjerdan assassin. She wasn’t comfortable riding with him, so he took off his glove so he could touch her neck. He literally uses his Grisha power to control how Alina feels about him. And if that sense of power and surety can calm her from her trauma so easily, what is it doing to her physical reaction to being kissed? She mentions feeling the “familiar sense of surety” along with her other reactions, but she doesn’t give it any weight in the experience. Doesn’t consider how that might be coloring her perception of the experience.
The visual at the end of Chapter 13, of the Darkling’s actions distracting Alina from being able to use her power on her own is the perfect segue into the next chapter, in which we will see the Darkling make some more moves towards his possession of Alina, and Baghra come to Alina with truth about the Darkling and his plans for the Fold and the future of Ravka…
Join us next week to tackle court balls, romance, betrayals, long boring journeys in the woods, magic deer, and the price of sacrifice. In the meantime, how do you feel about the Darkling’s manipulative ways? The relationship between the other Grisha at the Little Palace? Prologues? And we haven’t even touched on the Apparat or Zoya yet. Let me know what you think down in the comments!
Kelsey Jefferson Barrett is a Brooklyn-based writer and reviewer. If he were a Grisha, he’d love to be a Sun Summoner, but would honestly probably be one of the Materialki.
Would you look at that, I’ve just finished Ruin And Rising last week and there’s already a Grisha re-read going on. Good timing, me.
I must admit, Shadow And Bone is my least favourite Grisha book, because I started reading the trilogy after finishing the two Six of Crows novels, and the quality drop was rather drastic; I only managed to get through it because of Genya, and because the description of the next book promised me Sturmhund, who played a part in Crooked Kingdom and who ended up being my favourite character in this trilogy by a long shot.
The Darkling’s manipulation still managed to catch me off-guard, even though I knew he was going to end up a villain (because I read the description of Siege And Storm and spoiled myself…). Everything being shown from Alina’s POV certainly helped paint him as an ally of her, which I supposed was the point. I disagree about the prologue, though – in my opinion, it helps set the mood and gives us some background and worldbuilding without Alina having to backtrack and explain it.
@Rasarr Yeah, I agree that the books and writing get better as you go. And Sturmhond is my favorite character in the trilogy too; I can’t wait to get to Siege and Storm. But then I always love the Robin Hood characters best in pretty much any story.
I can definitely see what you mean about the prologue. I think my dislike might be personal taste as much as an objective opinion, and I also seem to remembering being somewhat won over by prologue/epilogue pattern of the books on my first read, so I may yet change my mind about it, too. Thanks for commenting!
I think another important thing the prologue does is show us that Mal has genuine love and loyalty for Alina. Without that scene, it would be too easy for the reader to assume that Alina’s insecurity is well-founded. That’s important as the story progresses.
I don’t like leaving negative comments and I know that many people like this book, but I have to say this: I am ethnically Russian and this book is painful to read. Yes, I am aware that this is not a book on Russian history, but a fantasy story. However the author claims that it was “inspired by Tsarist Russia”, so here we go. When I first saw it in a bookstore and read the back cover I started laughing, and when I began leafing through the pages I registered growing annoyance. Let me limit my comment to two things.
First of all, the choice of the word grishas to call an order of magicians is ridiculous bordering on vulgar. First off, Grisha is a personal male first name, a short form of Grigoriy [Gregory]. Why would anyone take a common personal name in its diminutive form and use it is a plural to describe a group of people? It makes no sense. For goodness sake, it’s almost like writing a book about English magicians and calling them “johns”. Sorry.
This matter aside, I strongly suspect that the author chose this name because of Grigoriy Rasputin, a real historical figure. He was a Russian peasant who claimed to be a spiritual healer, also considered a charlatan by many contemporaries. By claiming that he can heal the heir to the throne, who suffered from hemophilia, he worked his way into the Russian royal court and it was rumored that he had a love affair with the Empress. He played a rather dark role in the last days of Tsarist Russia and was brutally murdered in 1916, a year before the Revolution. It is also probably important to highlight that he was called Grisha or Grishka primarily by people who disliked him and wanted to emphasize his low birth. For most Russians, he is a minor figure from a textbook on modern Russian history. In the West, for some unknown reason, he became a character of popular culture: there was a 1970s disco song about “Rasputin, Russian greatest sex machine”, more recently he appeared in a comic book series and as a villain in the first Hellboy movie.
Russian culture has a rich tradition of fairy tales, historic and fictional accounts of early magi and later pagan beliefs, epic poetry and grand literary traditions, and of all these things the author of the book in question chooses as an inspiration a figure of an early 20th century adventurer/charlatan turned villain from a Western comic book. To me it feels like the author knows next to nothing about Russian culture.
My second issue with this book is as follows: I don’t understand why an obviously female main character, Alina, carries a male last name. Yes, Russian last names, generally, have different male and female versions. StarkOV is most definitely a male name and a female version should be StarkOVA.
Recently, there have been a lot of discussions about culture-related issues in creative writing. All in all, I feel that when using for “inspiration” a culture other than your own, a writer should do better research.
@kyrene78 – this might be part of the reason why I like Six of Crows and its follow-up far more than this trilogy. I’m Polish myself, so I’ve noticed some of this stuff and found it rather hilarious – I’ve spent large parts of Siege and Storm genuinely convinced that Ilya Morozova was a woman because of that ‘a’ at the end, and how much kvas do people drink in this world that they get drunk on it (which I remember happenning, though I can’t recall where)? I didn’t connect Grisha and Rasputin, though – that’s interesting to know. And I understand your frustration – I had similar feelings when reading Uprooted, whose Polnya is a Generic Fantasy Country that’s rummaged through medieval Poland’s wardrobe when Poland wasn’t looking.
I feel like, compared to this trilogy, Six of Crows and its follow-up really benefitted from foregoing straight-up historical inspiration in favour of doing its own thing, even if Ketterdam came from the same Generic Template Bag Polnya did (it expanded upon the template way better, though). Though Ravka has far more identity of its own in those novels too, so maybe it’s just Badurgo growing as a writer.
I just read these for the first time last week and fell in love with them. I have to say, I’m finding the second set of books boring in comparison. I don’t related to any of those characters. But I felt an instant connection with “the girl” in the prologue of Shadow and Bone, at her need to hide who she is to stay with the one person who represents a home to her and love. That was a key to the book for me that pulled me all the way through. So for me, the prologue was an excellent device, and I enjoyed revisiting the concept with each book.
Alina’s emotional stakes are a driving force missing in the Crow books, so far at least (I haven’t been interested enough to finish the first though I’m about 3/4 done). Most of the characters are cold and mercenary, so I really don’t care about them. I know that’s a cover in some cases, but it makes for reading that I have to push myself through.
I’m sorry, but I find this re-read problematic because I don’t think this trilogy is the usual Tor quality. Everything Tor reviews is amazingly complex, and there’s so much to dissect and learn, but I found books as obvious and trope-y as a Twilight. Maybe I’m not the audience, but I’m finding the distinction jarring, especially when amazingly complex books are regularly nitpicked. Whatever gets you clicks, I suppose.
^ Ah yes, those shlocky horror novels Grady reviews and the Lovecraft-influenced books and the Star Trek novels and the Camber series and the Wheel of Time series and the Cheysuli novels and the Dragonlance books, they’re all such complex literature. We get it. You’re too cool for YA novels that feature romance in some fashion. So glad you stopped by to let us know. *rolls eyes*
(Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy most of the above-mentioned books and they do what they set out to do well. I just don’t mistake them for great literature.)
hello all,
I will preface my comment by saying that my love for this trilogy is utterly irrational and the more I strive to pinpoint my reasons for the attraction, the more I feel I am missing the point. :) Just enjoy it, I say! That is not to say I am oblivious to the themes I have always been drawn to in art pieces, be it a book or film or what have you. In this particular case I love the way Leigh handled the issues of identity and displacement, personal power and servitude, duty and the pressing issues that accompany growing up and coming into one’s own. I think that main reason for me is the style, the shape of the writing. We have encountered and will continue to discover same stories but it is the shape that matters. The writing flows! Like a river! I found myself liking the stuff I normally don’t enjoy. The 1st person narration for example. I think it is precisely the colouring of narrative techniques that persuaded me into liking it. And once I was digging the perspective, the character of Alina Starkov came to light and kept shining on.
Yes, the question of how we read The Darkling on the 2nd try is very important. :) I was so glad when I read some scenes “correctly” and screaming in disbelief when I saw what I misssd. One of the most engaging parts I took right in and never lost sight of in the later books is how Alina accidentally hit upon the truth right at the beginning when she asked the Darkling about his age. This is a man who up to that point have been mulling over how to effectively handle situation he’d been anticipating for a long, long time (by simply ignoring her and taking his time). He is powerful. He have been avoiding Alina’s questions in order to gain and retain the control of the sudden opportunity. He was the man who had personal guard – he held power in the hierarchy where he was actually a servant. He inspired fear and Alina was dealing with the fear from the moment we meet her; the volcras are real and dangerous and our heroine is frightened,she’s not rushing into the battle to slay the enemy. This is a lovely twist of narrative tropes. (Also, remember when she dreams of grey eyed volcras, slaughtering their way through Keramzin’s orphanage? Yeah there’s that.)
I enjoy the dynamics between Alina and The Darkling. They are the axis around which the story revolves. I don’t care if they are romantically involved or not; I do appreciate the chemistry. She discovers her herself and bears huge questions to the world and through his presence the world responds.
I find the scene where Alina pushes for answers re:Baghra so funny in retrospect. I cannot believe I missed that manipulative episode. :) In my defense, I think that each time the Darkling engages with Alina brings the personal into the matter and she becomes his blind spot in a way. I can’t blame the leader for having an utilitarian relationship with their surroundings and this brings another layer of realism to the character because he’s so old – he is detached from the natural stream of existence. I came with the conclusion that the man is as manipulative as genuine.
However, the true heart of the novel is Alina’s progress and her relationship to Genya. It is just… Beautiful. I like how she helped Alina to fit in, to belong when she herself is an outcast. :)
Anyways, this is a great post, Kelsey and I am looking forward to reading more from you. :)
^ Honestly, I can’t attest if all that you’ve mentioned is high or low brow, as I haven’t read them and can’t comment. If you don’t like that stuff, you’re free to comment and give your opinion too, no one is stopping you. But I did read this book, as I’ve read other YA Romances, and that’s why I commented. I’ll thank you not assume what I haven’t read or find entertaining.
However, of the reviews I’ve read when it came to horror, the reviewers pulled no punches. They criticized where it was due and was surprised at the lack of it here. I guess I’m feeling that there should be a difference between a reviewer and gushing fan. I regularly read reviews where the reviewers found it ever so slightly trope-y and complained about it, yet this book is nothing but tropes and it gets a re-read. I guess asking for consistency is too much.
@NumberNone, I see what you mean. I will say, though, that the most emotion I felt regarding Mal’s childhood affection for Alina was in the flashback that Alina actually has in Chapter 12, when she remembers Mal being pulled away from her, and him calling her name through the library door. I guess it felt more immediate that way, and therefore more poignant. But I do agree that it is important to see their relationship as children so we know that it wasn’t more one-sided than Alina believes.
@Kate, I feel the same way about the theme of Alina having to constantly hide who she is, and I find it interesting because Bardugo reinvents the hiding Alina has to go through from book to book, examining different kinds of repression and different ways she has to sacrifice part of herself. I feel like that’s what gives the books a real weight and meaning besides being neat fantasy with cool characters. I really connect with her in that regard.
@kyrene78 and @Rasarr, Leigh Bardugo has addressed some of the mistakes she made using the Russian language and bits of its culture. She’s talked in blog posts and things about why she made the choices she did. In most cases the “mistakes” were actually deliberate choices that she made based on real research; so the flaws weren’t from ignorance but for a misjudgment, I think. For example, she has said that she chose the word Grisha “because it is the Russian diminutive of Gregory which means “watchful” and derives from the biblical Grigori (which a lot of paranormal fans will recognize from fallen angel tales). It also evokes the word “geisha,” which reinforces the sense of beauty, secrecy, and the elite.” (this is from a blog post she did a while back: http://www.leighbardugo.com/tongue-twister-2/)
Now, that doesn’t make these choices better, and Bardugo has commented in other places and to reader’s criticisms admitting that her choices were somewhat problematic. I think for me personally, the biggest mistake she made was underestimating her readers’ experience of the Russian language; she kind of failed to take into account how much her choices would look different to Russian speakers, and I also think she was wrong in feeling that readers who were unfamiliar with the Russian language would struggle too much with it unless she softened it up for us. It bothers me too, but I’m more willing to overlook those mistakes reading the original trilogy now, knowing that she took those criticisms to heart, learned from them, and altered what she was doing. That’s why the way she handles the language/world building in Six of Crows is so much better.
@they see me squallin, they hatin –
“I love the way Leigh handled the issues of identity and displacement, personal power and servitude, duty and the pressing issues that accompany growing up and coming into one’s own.”
Couldn’t have said it better myself. I also agree about Bardugo’s writing style; it’s more than the sum of it’s parts, somehow, and it’s just so nice to read.
I like your point about the fear the Darkling inspires; I hadn’t really thought about it as a significant part of his manipulation in this book (until the end, anyway) but now that you bring it up, I’m thinking of that bit in Chapter 9 when he takes Alina aside to talk to her after her first day, and acts all hurt when she admits that she was worried she was in trouble or something. Even though I know better, I was still reading that as a moment when the Darkling learns a lesson, but in fact, we know he doesn’t care if people are afraid of him, that his feelings aren’t hurt by Alina’s mistrust, but he needs her trust to manipulate her. And once again, as soon as she hits on a poignant, relevant comment, he finds a way to distract her. By touching her.
AND this is also the relevant moment when he learns about Mal’s skill, which is going to be so important in the second half of the book. GAH, now I’m wishing I spent more time on this!
Thanks for commenting.
I would love to extrapolate on the fear and the Darkling* but I am afraid I would spoil people on that cool novella so I’ll skip this subject.
Instead, I’ll focus on the manipulation and bless our homeslice for giving us so much to talk about. One of the crucial moments is when he starts [finally] communicating with Alina,while on their way to Os Alta,and begins the conversation with “what have you been told about me” (I am paraphrasing this.) This is such an overt move to counteract any damage that may ensue later on in their relationship,damage caused by his rep among the common people. In retrospect, we know that he was always intent on having good relationship,close relationship with Alina in the eyes of the public; we know that as soon as she stepped into the LP,the intriguing begun. So,the Darkling was taking small,effective steps to remain in control and thwart any attack on his authority.
But,look at the brutality of those seemingly small steps: he halves a man, simultaneously instilling fear & awe and by invoking the righteous reasons ie doing what needs to be done, according to him. I believe this notion of having what it takes to do what needs to be done and doing it is what dulled his morality in the long,long run. I also believe that apathy + habitual nonchalance when it comes to executing his will is what is being provoked after he meets Alina.
And look at our Alina, that glorious,unwitting yet naturally morally MVP – remember when she deduced that in then current state of Grisha affairs,the SA soldiers are no better that serfs. Oh,boy,that hurt him! That spoke the truth of once so noble goal.
It is difficult to guess at the level of the Darkling’s innate preoccupation with Alina in those first months. I think that by holding her by his own standards (we are alike,special,black kefta suggestions etc) he made himself vulnerable. We are speaking of the character that allows the solitude because it is precursor to power. And then there’s Alina, whose existence is nothing short of a miracle. So, he makes some moves that are personal,imo. By singling her out he effectively isolates her and this is Alina’s plight. What he doesn’t realise is that he makes her important in relation to himself by the same blow,and that’s a plight of his own.
oooh,I remember that scene well! he notices she touches her scar a lot. Funny enough, in the 2nd book there’s another character and this hand/manipulation business and I remember thinking “slap them Alina!and then
go back in time and slap the Darkling!”
I love this scene for showing how removed he is from his own kind. Alina,otoh,is not accustomed to LP palace etiquette at that point,and he isn’t accustomed to be treated any way other than he is up to that point. He encouraged her to speak her mind in order to have a feel on her inner thoughts without realising that she’s a bit of fresh air. She bewilderes him. So,with her,I believe his motivation runs in two streams, one unaware of the other.
She’s crucial to his plans but she’s liability as well. He’s a liability because he’s lonely.
re: the kiss you mention,he frowns afterwards,doesn’t he? in sense “ooh,I wasn’t supposed to feel this? me so confused”
Thanks *you* for doing this! I was dying to discuss them cool books but couldn’t find the appropriate nook on the vast internet.
*or let us discuss how my keyboard keeps switching from darkling to parking. my own keyboard,doesn’t know me at all.:)
@12, Kelsey – Interesting article, thank you for linking it! I admit I still don’t understand why not gender the surnames – or at least swap the ‘a’ from Morozova to Starkov without explaining that it’s gender-related. It’s one of the most noticeable problems, and while I understand that writing high fantasy gives one artistic license to change things up (like alcohol content of kvas), I think you should at least take the “big things” into account if you want to say out loud that your fantasy culture is based on a real-world one.
I like the reason behind swapping vodka and kvas, though. I don’t know why, but Badurgo’s comment about it just made me chuckle.
@Kate – interesting! I admit I’m far more fond of Six of Crows and their characters (save for the awesomeness that is Strumhond), but I can see where you’re coming from. I still think that I initially got hooked on the story because Kaz made me think of younger version of Kelsier from Mistborn, and I love that guy.
@they see me squallin, they hat in-
Yeah, that thing he does with the kiss like “omg I’m just as surprised and perplexed by my emotions as you are, teenage girl!” I’m not buying it. I think the Darkling is obsessed with Alina, as she is the thing that she has been waiting for to make all of his dreams of power and control a reality, but I don’t think he’s invested in any emotion towards her as a person until Book Two. Although as I go through the climactic scenes of of Shadow and Bone next week, I may revise that opinion. I think his views on how Grisha are objectively better and of a higher breed than non-Grisha are relevant to how he feels about Alina, too, and one of the reasons he’s so personally offended that she would reject him and the life he can offer her for something common and “beneath” her.
And yeah, the brutality of those small steps and the way they are justified and normal in his eyes is very important going forward to see how skewed the Darkling’s perspective really is. But also I think it’s really significant to see how reasonable his justifications seem, and to recognize that the slope is that slippery, and that Alina will be grappling with making some hard decisions herself, as the story progresses.
Alina in contrast to the Darkling and the bond between them through shared although sometimes oppositional experiences I think does serve to humanize him in a way nothing he actually says about himself does.
@Rasarr Yeah, the surname thing confuses me too. I can understand her decision to just not gender ANY name, but then I feel like it ought to be consistently without the “a” anywhere. I think she just decided that she didn’t want to have the world of Ravka include the gendering of surnames and so just used whatever she liked the sound of best.
I didn’t know what kvass was when I read the books for the first time; I figured she used a real Russian word but didn’t know the name already belonged to an actual drink, so I didn’t have the disconnect about the alcoholic content. However, I also didn’t see it as “an obvious stand-in for vodka” as she describes it in that article. I imagined it more as like a peasant beer or something, possibly because of the way Alina contrasts it’s taste with that of champagne. Then later when I did my research on real kvass, it seemed like drink I had imagined was closer to what the real drink is (minus the alcohol content) than to what she was intending the word to be a stand-in for (something like vodka).
Also I think it’s kind of weird to say that the word vodka “places us instantly in our world and time,” but not think the same thing about the word champagne.
I think it’s also interesting to note that Alina arrived at Fold scared and almost run over by a certain carriage and left unknowingly triumphant by the same means of transportation.
“The light shatters, leaving me in darkness. ” I wonder would you revisit this scene if you knew that Leigh listened to Florence + The Machine’s Cosmic Love while writing S&B? :)
Re: The Darkling and the kiss… I think that sensuality too plays a significant part with him in relation to his age and life. Making him feels less tired of existing, perhaps? Yes, he manipulates, he’s efficient but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want some. He was denied touch all his life – a powerful living amplifier would condition his behavior accordingly. Additionally, he wants to rule Ravka, but he wants a true companion as well.
@they see me squalling, they hat in –
An excellent point! I’m going to hold onto that idea as I continue in the series, since it becomes more and more relevant the more we learn about him.
I’m a Croat and I know our surnames don’t work the same way as the russians do, but I had no problem whatsoever with borrowing from the russian culture. She said it was “based on”, not entirely the same. I don’t get this hate (?), especially since it’s fantasy we’re talking about. I didn’t have any problems with Kay borrowing from Croatian history either and he kind of made the same “mistakes”.
I loved the Grisha novels, especially since it’s so different and better from the other YA series out there. I loved the world building, it was pretty impressive. Six of Crows still hasn’t managed to get my attention, though.