Kristin Cashore's Fire: So Very Pretty
Aug. 8th, 2011 11:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
attackfishA while back, I took it into my head that I wanted to try my hand at making podfic. Then I realized I didn’t have the technical savvy to undertake such an endeavor, but not before I bought a couple of books on tape for research purposes. I like it. I can cross-stitch and listen to them at the same time. Though, this does make it harder to find quippy quotes to use for cut text. And I can’t write while listening to them like I can while watching reruns of NCIS and Criminal Minds. Shame.
Ever since Fire was born, she has had a beauty so mesmerizing, people can’t help but fall under her spell, because she isn’t like other people. She’s a monster, with the fiery orange hair for which she was named, and her perfect face and body. Fire hates what she is. But as civil war rises in the Dells, the royal family needs the help of her amazing beauty to help weed out the traitors in their midst, and while she’s there, she must deal with the hatred of the people who remember the cruelty of other monsters, and who fear her ensnaring their weak minded king.
So this is the second (or fourth) of my meta book binge after purchasing The Tough Guide. It’s also the last for now. It was a very short binge. (Sorry guys, forgot to post this a while ago.)
In some ways, it's lucky I forgot I had this review on my computer and so waited to post it until now. Recently, there has been a lot of talk about what a mary sue is and is not, and how calling a female character a mary sue is often used to punish her for being the protagonist. Fire herself is a thoughtful examination of what a well developed character with some of the most obvious and easily parodied aspects of the standard mary sue (extreme beauty, improbably colored hair and eyes, not entirely human, last of her kind, talent at music, the ability to make most people like her instantly...) would be like. And she’s miserable. Not only do people, both men and women, fawn over her, or attack her, either to rape her, or keep her, or just bask in her presence, but even the animal monsters want a piece of her. In their case, it’s to eat her, but still. She is constantly under guard and surrounded by keepers.
Cashore also explores what it means to have an evil figure with the same mary suesque traits as Fire. Her father, Cansrel, was ruthless, hedonistic, and cruel. He used his powers shamelessly to further his sadism and lust for power until his death, ruling the kingdom through his friend, the equally hedonistic, drug addicted king. It was his deleterious influence that has the Dells so afraid Fire will seize control. Even her love interest, the old king’s younger son, and current king’s brother, is afraid of her. Her beauty and the effect it has on others scare people and make them hate her. And they have every right to be scared.
Along with fulfilling the mary sue character stereotype, Fire’s absurd level of explicitly supernatural attractiveness causes Fire to be a commentary on a much wider societal trope, that of a woman’s sexual irresistibility, and men’s inability to control their sexual urges, an attitude which denies men their full humanity while at the same time mandating that women be sequestered away. It gives society a reason to blame women when they’re victimized. However, Cashore refutes this in several ways. First of all, Fire’s own life serves as an example of what would happen if that sort of attraction were in the power of real human women, or at least the good kind. Since real women aren’t treated with that level of adulation by most people (though we do seem to inspire that sort of hate) real women can’t be as compelling as all that. Cansrel’s example on the other hand shows the tremendous power that sort of beauty really is. If women held that kind of power, any evil woman would take over the world in a heartbeat. The rest of us would at least arranged things with our amazing beauty power so that we were in charge and so that the world benefited us most. Last of all, Fire is never held to blame for the effects of her remarkable beauty by the text itself. When men hate her for the effect she has on them, she doesn’t deserve it. Men, good, strong men, can control themselves around her. It’s always the man’s fault when he fails. There are flaws to this analogy. Instead of associating rape with power, fear, and an inability to see the victim as human, it associates it with sexual attraction. This makes rape more understandable, and worse, more palatable to society, and it’s a lie. Secondly, it posits that it takes a man remarkable control to resist Fire. While with Cansrel, women gave into his beauty, with Fire, men fight over her. All and all, though, while Fire herself isn’t feminist, Fire the novel certainly is.
Fire also has a freedom many heroines don’t have. She has a long term romance and sexual relationship before Brigan, and I love that it’s her who says no to marriage and an exclusive relationship and wants to keep things casual with Archer instead of the other way around, and also that it’s implicit that she finds the relationship satisfying, and that Archer isn’t demonized, even when his flaws are made plain and Fire no longer wants to be involved with him. Also, there’s some very interesting discussion on children, reproductive rights, self-loathing, and societal coercion.
Throughout the novel, Fire hobnobs with kings, princes and princesses, royal spymasters, and generals, and the novel makes it plain that the titles actually mean something. Every social interaction Fire has is highly political, coded with meanings not just for her and her associates, but for the country as a whole. It’s crammed full with the kind of political hijinks I crave. I mean, the woman’s trying to negotiate around a three way civil war. Reader, you know how much I love that. I would have liked to have seen more discussion as to the implications of Cansrel’s daughter being involved with Brigan, who is, after all a prince and the leader of his brother’s army, not just in Brigan, Nash, and Fire’s eyes, but in the eyes of the people who do still feel that she’s a danger to the kingdom, though.
Structurally, Fire failed to create the sort of rising tension an adventure novel needs. I didn’t feel all that much excitement until the ball and Leck’s kidnapping of Fire. Also, I would have liked it if there were more build up to Leck being a dangerous enemy than a couple of scattered hints and the prologue. The prologue felt tacked on, though on it’s own, it was brilliantly creepy. Fire felt more like a romance novel with an adventure subplot than a traditional fantasy adventure with a romantic subplot. I don’t mind this, per se, as it was a fine romance, but I would have liked fair warning.
All told, however, Fire is a captivating novel full of romance, political intrigue, and feminist subtext. It kept me glued to my CD player and left me eager to read more by Cashore.
Now, I have a sunny roof to lie down on and a copy of Cashore’s first book, Graceling to dive into. Wish me luck.
Kristin Cashore can be found online at her blog, This is My Secret.
Ever since Fire was born, she has had a beauty so mesmerizing, people can’t help but fall under her spell, because she isn’t like other people. She’s a monster, with the fiery orange hair for which she was named, and her perfect face and body. Fire hates what she is. But as civil war rises in the Dells, the royal family needs the help of her amazing beauty to help weed out the traitors in their midst, and while she’s there, she must deal with the hatred of the people who remember the cruelty of other monsters, and who fear her ensnaring their weak minded king.
So this is the second (or fourth) of my meta book binge after purchasing The Tough Guide. It’s also the last for now. It was a very short binge. (Sorry guys, forgot to post this a while ago.)
In some ways, it's lucky I forgot I had this review on my computer and so waited to post it until now. Recently, there has been a lot of talk about what a mary sue is and is not, and how calling a female character a mary sue is often used to punish her for being the protagonist. Fire herself is a thoughtful examination of what a well developed character with some of the most obvious and easily parodied aspects of the standard mary sue (extreme beauty, improbably colored hair and eyes, not entirely human, last of her kind, talent at music, the ability to make most people like her instantly...) would be like. And she’s miserable. Not only do people, both men and women, fawn over her, or attack her, either to rape her, or keep her, or just bask in her presence, but even the animal monsters want a piece of her. In their case, it’s to eat her, but still. She is constantly under guard and surrounded by keepers.
Cashore also explores what it means to have an evil figure with the same mary suesque traits as Fire. Her father, Cansrel, was ruthless, hedonistic, and cruel. He used his powers shamelessly to further his sadism and lust for power until his death, ruling the kingdom through his friend, the equally hedonistic, drug addicted king. It was his deleterious influence that has the Dells so afraid Fire will seize control. Even her love interest, the old king’s younger son, and current king’s brother, is afraid of her. Her beauty and the effect it has on others scare people and make them hate her. And they have every right to be scared.
Along with fulfilling the mary sue character stereotype, Fire’s absurd level of explicitly supernatural attractiveness causes Fire to be a commentary on a much wider societal trope, that of a woman’s sexual irresistibility, and men’s inability to control their sexual urges, an attitude which denies men their full humanity while at the same time mandating that women be sequestered away. It gives society a reason to blame women when they’re victimized. However, Cashore refutes this in several ways. First of all, Fire’s own life serves as an example of what would happen if that sort of attraction were in the power of real human women, or at least the good kind. Since real women aren’t treated with that level of adulation by most people (though we do seem to inspire that sort of hate) real women can’t be as compelling as all that. Cansrel’s example on the other hand shows the tremendous power that sort of beauty really is. If women held that kind of power, any evil woman would take over the world in a heartbeat. The rest of us would at least arranged things with our amazing beauty power so that we were in charge and so that the world benefited us most. Last of all, Fire is never held to blame for the effects of her remarkable beauty by the text itself. When men hate her for the effect she has on them, she doesn’t deserve it. Men, good, strong men, can control themselves around her. It’s always the man’s fault when he fails. There are flaws to this analogy. Instead of associating rape with power, fear, and an inability to see the victim as human, it associates it with sexual attraction. This makes rape more understandable, and worse, more palatable to society, and it’s a lie. Secondly, it posits that it takes a man remarkable control to resist Fire. While with Cansrel, women gave into his beauty, with Fire, men fight over her. All and all, though, while Fire herself isn’t feminist, Fire the novel certainly is.
Fire also has a freedom many heroines don’t have. She has a long term romance and sexual relationship before Brigan, and I love that it’s her who says no to marriage and an exclusive relationship and wants to keep things casual with Archer instead of the other way around, and also that it’s implicit that she finds the relationship satisfying, and that Archer isn’t demonized, even when his flaws are made plain and Fire no longer wants to be involved with him. Also, there’s some very interesting discussion on children, reproductive rights, self-loathing, and societal coercion.
Throughout the novel, Fire hobnobs with kings, princes and princesses, royal spymasters, and generals, and the novel makes it plain that the titles actually mean something. Every social interaction Fire has is highly political, coded with meanings not just for her and her associates, but for the country as a whole. It’s crammed full with the kind of political hijinks I crave. I mean, the woman’s trying to negotiate around a three way civil war. Reader, you know how much I love that. I would have liked to have seen more discussion as to the implications of Cansrel’s daughter being involved with Brigan, who is, after all a prince and the leader of his brother’s army, not just in Brigan, Nash, and Fire’s eyes, but in the eyes of the people who do still feel that she’s a danger to the kingdom, though.
Structurally, Fire failed to create the sort of rising tension an adventure novel needs. I didn’t feel all that much excitement until the ball and Leck’s kidnapping of Fire. Also, I would have liked it if there were more build up to Leck being a dangerous enemy than a couple of scattered hints and the prologue. The prologue felt tacked on, though on it’s own, it was brilliantly creepy. Fire felt more like a romance novel with an adventure subplot than a traditional fantasy adventure with a romantic subplot. I don’t mind this, per se, as it was a fine romance, but I would have liked fair warning.
All told, however, Fire is a captivating novel full of romance, political intrigue, and feminist subtext. It kept me glued to my CD player and left me eager to read more by Cashore.
Now, I have a sunny roof to lie down on and a copy of Cashore’s first book, Graceling to dive into. Wish me luck.
Kristin Cashore can be found online at her blog, This is My Secret.
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Date: 2011-08-08 10:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-09 03:13 am (UTC)