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cupidities's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
*Review copy provided by Netgalley, but opinions are mine
I loved All the Stars and Teeth when I read it last spring: gritty and dark YA fantasy that dealt with the troubles of imperialism with sea adventures galore (plus a pirate and a mermaid!). Reading All the Tides of Fate, the final book in this duology, felt like a let-down, though.
I think, in part, I was overly optimistic when reading All the Stars and Teeth. That novel felt like it had great inclusion (so many characters that don't have white skin!), but it's just superficial diversity. Their skin tones don't actually play a role in the story, even though the book is set in a world where the different islands have widely varying power dynamics, with some being exploiters and some exploited. In another author's hands, this could've been a way to explore the racialized foundations of imperialism.
The first book also felt like it was gearing up to be anti-imperialism: Amora uncovers the dark history of her family and their reign over Visidia, and begins to question their right to rule. In All the Tides of Fate, however, Amora has just become queen, and suddenly and wholeheartedly believes that she must rule her kingdom and keep it united, whatever it takes. She grapples with morality in doing so, but for most of this novel, she sees herself as the rightful leader who must preserve her empire.
The rest of this review is going to be a spoiler-laden analysis of the ways this book perpetuates and upholds an imperialist fantasy.
In All the Tides of Fate, Amora goes on a journey across the islands of Visida. She pretends she's doing so to find a husband so she can produce an heir and maintain her family's lineage--explicitly working to preserve her family's legacy as rulers of Visidia. In reality, she's hunting down a person who may know how to help her re-gain her magic and fix her kingdom--again, to help her maintain control over her imperialist domain.
Amora is attacked by residents of the first two islands she visits: first, by drunken men, and then by a political agent trying to usurp her as ruler of his island. In both cases, the attackers are very clearly portrayed as morally wrong: it is immoral for these people to fight for their communities' needs and to try to depose the newest ruler in a corrupt line of exploitative and uncaring kings. After the second attack, Amora begins to question whether she's in the right by preserving her empire, but she visits a third island, where everyone loves her and is so excited to help her fight for her vision, so her doubts are squashed and she again trusts herself to know what's best.
Her trust in herself as the rightful leader then, at the very end of the novel, brings her to suddenly announce that the kingdom will actually be changing form, so that each island gets equal say in how the union is run and maintained. Here, she seems to be offering the islands a chance to represent themselves through elected officials (in a system that sounds an awful lot like the U.S. Senate, which has its own problems of unequal representation), but again, Amora somehow knows what will be best for the kingdom. She doesn't solicit or expect any feedback from the islands in question. Instead, she makes a sweeping reform where she, as the rightful leader trained to be their queen, knows what's best for everybody, which is maintaining the empire, whatever it takes. The islands don't get a say in how the new system will function, or even whether they want to participate; instead, Amora makes her decree and then leaves, going on a new adventure at sea.
And, of course, this opportunity for empire reform is only possible through the self-sacrificial death of Visidia's most loyal subject (and Amora's closest friend, Ferrick). He dies so that Amora can re-gain her magic and preserve the empire; his death, as Visidia's loyal subject, is what enables Amora to reform the kingdom and re-gain the trust of her other subjects. He must die so that she can maintain the imperialist union of islands.
A final note: one of the islands was, in the first book, a hub of sex trafficking and other atrocities. In the second book, however, Amora and the islands' residents are incredibly excited that they have reclaimed control through turning the island into... a giant casino, with gambling and drinking around every corner, as a source of tourism revenue. This made me really uncomfortable because of the way that this pivot was praised as a sign of autonomy and agency on the island's part, as though they had reclaimed their island and economy by turning it into a legal version of what settler colonials had been using the island for previously. This pivot mirrors the same choices many tribal reservations in the U.S. have made--but without acknowledging the ways that this choice was in many ways forced upon the island in the story, and the ways that this choice doesn't actually represent political and economic agency. The island is "repairing" itself with the revenue brought in by tourist gambling, but at what cost? The book offers superficial praise of a difficult and double-edged choice for self-preservation in the face of settler colonialism, without engaging with the harms that such a choice can and does make for residents.
I loved All the Stars and Teeth when I read it last spring: gritty and dark YA fantasy that dealt with the troubles of imperialism with sea adventures galore (plus a pirate and a mermaid!). Reading All the Tides of Fate, the final book in this duology, felt like a let-down, though.
I think, in part, I was overly optimistic when reading All the Stars and Teeth. That novel felt like it had great inclusion (so many characters that don't have white skin!), but it's just superficial diversity. Their skin tones don't actually play a role in the story, even though the book is set in a world where the different islands have widely varying power dynamics, with some being exploiters and some exploited. In another author's hands, this could've been a way to explore the racialized foundations of imperialism.
The first book also felt like it was gearing up to be anti-imperialism: Amora uncovers the dark history of her family and their reign over Visidia, and begins to question their right to rule. In All the Tides of Fate, however, Amora has just become queen, and suddenly and wholeheartedly believes that she must rule her kingdom and keep it united, whatever it takes. She grapples with morality in doing so, but for most of this novel, she sees herself as the rightful leader who must preserve her empire.
The rest of this review is going to be a spoiler-laden analysis of the ways this book perpetuates and upholds an imperialist fantasy.
Amora is attacked by residents of the first two islands she visits: first, by drunken men, and then by a political agent trying to usurp her as ruler of his island. In both cases, the attackers are very clearly portrayed as morally wrong: it is immoral for these people to fight for their communities' needs and to try to depose the newest ruler in a corrupt line of exploitative and uncaring kings. After the second attack, Amora begins to question whether she's in the right by preserving her empire, but she visits a third island, where everyone loves her and is so excited to help her fight for her vision, so her doubts are squashed and she again trusts herself to know what's best.
Her trust in herself as the rightful leader then, at the very end of the novel, brings her to suddenly announce that the kingdom will actually be changing form, so that each island gets equal say in how the union is run and maintained. Here, she seems to be offering the islands a chance to represent themselves through elected officials (in a system that sounds an awful lot like the U.S. Senate, which has its own problems of unequal representation), but again, Amora somehow knows what will be best for the kingdom. She doesn't solicit or expect any feedback from the islands in question. Instead, she makes a sweeping reform where she, as the rightful leader trained to be their queen, knows what's best for everybody, which is maintaining the empire, whatever it takes. The islands don't get a say in how the new system will function, or even whether they want to participate; instead, Amora makes her decree and then leaves, going on a new adventure at sea.
And, of course, this opportunity for empire reform is only possible through the self-sacrificial death of Visidia's most loyal subject (and Amora's closest friend, Ferrick). He dies so that Amora can re-gain her magic and preserve the empire; his death, as Visidia's loyal subject, is what enables Amora to reform the kingdom and re-gain the trust of her other subjects. He must die so that she can maintain the imperialist union of islands.
A final note: one of the islands was, in the first book, a hub of sex trafficking and other atrocities. In the second book, however, Amora and the islands' residents are incredibly excited that they have reclaimed control through turning the island into... a giant casino, with gambling and drinking around every corner, as a source of tourism revenue. This made me really uncomfortable because of the way that this pivot was praised as a sign of autonomy and agency on the island's part, as though they had reclaimed their island and economy by turning it into a legal version of what settler colonials had been using the island for previously. This pivot mirrors the same choices many tribal reservations in the U.S. have made--but without acknowledging the ways that this choice was in many ways forced upon the island in the story, and the ways that this choice doesn't actually represent political and economic agency. The island is "repairing" itself with the revenue brought in by tourist gambling, but at what cost? The book offers superficial praise of a difficult and double-edged choice for self-preservation in the face of settler colonialism, without engaging with the harms that such a choice can and does make for residents.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death, Panic attacks/disorders, Blood, Grief, Death of parent, and Murder
Minor: Sexual content