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A review by reidob
The Stone Sky by N.K. Jemisin
4.0
With every book in this series, my respect for Jemisin's skill and dedication has increased. I marvel at her ability to build such a convincing world and to keep the reader's attention focused on the complexities of that world and the characters in it.
I have been convinced for some time that all stories deal in some way or another with the concept of redemption. Sometimes there is none, but the desire for it drives the plot of every work. Shakespeare is the avatar of this framework; the story behind every play is ripe for redemption. In the tragedies redemption comes through the death of one or more of the characters, while in the comedies, the comeuppance is less dire. But in each, in order for balance to be restored, some drastic shift in circumstances (up to and including the most dire of all) must occur.
Until I began reading this third volume of the series, it had not been quite clear to me that the theme of the Broken Earth trilogy is (or so it seems to me): Actions Have Consequences. One simply cannot delve into powers beyond one's ken without suffering the backlash of that power; the moon cannot be dealt a blow that careens it out of orbit without retribution being visited upon those who are arrogant enough to do so; one may not use the power of the earth without paying a distinct and appropriate price. And redemption for all the manipulation of the earth's magic seems to come at a rather steep price, but in the story of the Earth as N.K. Jemisin tells it, all actions have repercussions in direct proportion to the severity of the deed. This may be a rough and unforgiving justice, but justice it most certainly is.
This book picks up directly from where the previous ended, with the Earth in a terrible Season caused by The Rifting, a huge cataclysm triggered by a man who wanted to defeat a certain faction. Seasons, in this world, are not merely one type of weather pattern following another, but have become deeply hazardous and distinctly polarizing events. Only the most fit and useful survive.
But Essun and her daughter Nassun, though separated by thousands of miles and events that have remade them both, believe, each for their own reasons, that the seasons must end, that the Earth must be healed, be made whole. Either that, or it must be destroyed completely. They both have the power of orogenic manipulation of the forces of the Earth, though they also discover that there are even more powerful forces at work, forces that come with distinct and shattering consequences when used. This book is the story of their travels and travails, and the price they both pay to fulfill their separate and (in the end) conjoined aims.
While I did enjoy most of this book enormously, I do have to say that I did not share quite the degree of enthusiasm for every little detail of the use of power and how it all aligns Jemisin demonstrates. I found myself a bit impatient for some of the ornate descriptions of lines of power to end and for us to get on with the story. Still, that is a minor complaint in what was, for the most part, a masterful story told well.
I have been convinced for some time that all stories deal in some way or another with the concept of redemption. Sometimes there is none, but the desire for it drives the plot of every work. Shakespeare is the avatar of this framework; the story behind every play is ripe for redemption. In the tragedies redemption comes through the death of one or more of the characters, while in the comedies, the comeuppance is less dire. But in each, in order for balance to be restored, some drastic shift in circumstances (up to and including the most dire of all) must occur.
Until I began reading this third volume of the series, it had not been quite clear to me that the theme of the Broken Earth trilogy is (or so it seems to me): Actions Have Consequences. One simply cannot delve into powers beyond one's ken without suffering the backlash of that power; the moon cannot be dealt a blow that careens it out of orbit without retribution being visited upon those who are arrogant enough to do so; one may not use the power of the earth without paying a distinct and appropriate price. And redemption for all the manipulation of the earth's magic seems to come at a rather steep price, but in the story of the Earth as N.K. Jemisin tells it, all actions have repercussions in direct proportion to the severity of the deed. This may be a rough and unforgiving justice, but justice it most certainly is.
This book picks up directly from where the previous ended, with the Earth in a terrible Season caused by The Rifting, a huge cataclysm triggered by a man who wanted to defeat a certain faction. Seasons, in this world, are not merely one type of weather pattern following another, but have become deeply hazardous and distinctly polarizing events. Only the most fit and useful survive.
But Essun and her daughter Nassun, though separated by thousands of miles and events that have remade them both, believe, each for their own reasons, that the seasons must end, that the Earth must be healed, be made whole. Either that, or it must be destroyed completely. They both have the power of orogenic manipulation of the forces of the Earth, though they also discover that there are even more powerful forces at work, forces that come with distinct and shattering consequences when used. This book is the story of their travels and travails, and the price they both pay to fulfill their separate and (in the end) conjoined aims.
While I did enjoy most of this book enormously, I do have to say that I did not share quite the degree of enthusiasm for every little detail of the use of power and how it all aligns Jemisin demonstrates. I found myself a bit impatient for some of the ornate descriptions of lines of power to end and for us to get on with the story. Still, that is a minor complaint in what was, for the most part, a masterful story told well.