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rwalker101's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
lighthearted
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Female rage is such an odd thing. I don't think I've ever met people as angry on average as teenage girls, nor do I think I've ever seen a group try so hard to mask that rage. Shannon Hale, authoress of my heart, once again tackles the flood of nuanced emotions teenage girls will confront in their lifetimes, and uses magic as metaphor to give those girls the tools to handle those emotions.
Enna's burning (ha) rage comes from a variety of places. She doesn't know if she wants a quiet life in the forest or a life of adventure, and the confusion she feels is vexing. She sees her home country striving to heal itself from centuries of war, and is understandably frustrated when they are drawn in once more. She is angry her brother's erratic behavior, angry that she cannot protect her friends to her satisfaction, angry that she can't force people to understand her anger.
Hale has the very fortunate position of using fire as the metaphor for Enna's rage. Much like the fire, anger often offers us pleasing excuses, justifying its own existence. See how I make myself useful, see what use I can be to you. But the more the fire and the rage grow unchecked, the more Enna finds excuses to break her rules. She hurts strangers, then friends, and eventually, when she has forced her friends away, that fiery anger turns inward, burning the only fuel it has left - its host.
Then comes Sileph. A mention of Sileph in this book was the first time I had ever read the word "bastard" in print, and it is entirely justified. Teenage girls that have isolated themselves through their anger often become the targets of predators like Sileph, and Hale portrays Enna's isolation so by-the-book accurately that it hurts to read every single time. Sileph confirms her belief that her friends don't understand her actions, that he is the only one who could ever truly love her, and in so doing is the only one she can ever love in return. This is textbook emotional abuse: isolation, love-bombing, manipulation.
The metaphor continues powerfully. A message from her friends tells Enna that she is the only one that can truly help herself, and she makes the painful, heart-wrenching decision to walk away from her abuser, using her powerful, fiery anger to do so. Once she does so, her friends welcome her back with open arms, and she must lean on them to truly begin her healing process.
The metaphor of anger and fire is woven into the core of this book's being, and I could gush about it for hours, but the last point I will cover is the ending. The conclusions Hale comes to in her stories are always so nuanced, and she follows the same beat with the fire: anger is not a bad thing to have. Rage can be motivating, a driving force, but it also must be balanced. A rage-and-fire-filled heart would drive Enna to self-destruction, but to rid herself of it entirely would be to destroy an essential part of her being. She does not need to be rid of it entirely, she needs to balance it. And the only way to balance it is the share the burden with a friend. Much as they do in Goose Girl, it is Enna's relationships with her friends that ultimately saves her. She learns to apologize, to forgive herself, and to reach out when she needs help. And isn't that the most inspiring lesson of them all?
Enna's burning (ha) rage comes from a variety of places. She doesn't know if she wants a quiet life in the forest or a life of adventure, and the confusion she feels is vexing. She sees her home country striving to heal itself from centuries of war, and is understandably frustrated when they are drawn in once more. She is angry her brother's erratic behavior, angry that she cannot protect her friends to her satisfaction, angry that she can't force people to understand her anger.
Hale has the very fortunate position of using fire as the metaphor for Enna's rage. Much like the fire, anger often offers us pleasing excuses, justifying its own existence. See how I make myself useful, see what use I can be to you. But the more the fire and the rage grow unchecked, the more Enna finds excuses to break her rules. She hurts strangers, then friends, and eventually, when she has forced her friends away, that fiery anger turns inward, burning the only fuel it has left - its host.
Then comes Sileph. A mention of Sileph in this book was the first time I had ever read the word "bastard" in print, and it is entirely justified. Teenage girls that have isolated themselves through their anger often become the targets of predators like Sileph, and Hale portrays Enna's isolation so by-the-book accurately that it hurts to read every single time. Sileph confirms her belief that her friends don't understand her actions, that he is the only one who could ever truly love her, and in so doing is the only one she can ever love in return. This is textbook emotional abuse: isolation, love-bombing, manipulation.
The metaphor continues powerfully. A message from her friends tells Enna that she is the only one that can truly help herself, and she makes the painful, heart-wrenching decision to walk away from her abuser, using her powerful, fiery anger to do so. Once she does so, her friends welcome her back with open arms, and she must lean on them to truly begin her healing process.
The metaphor of anger and fire is woven into the core of this book's being, and I could gush about it for hours, but the last point I will cover is the ending. The conclusions Hale comes to in her stories are always so nuanced, and she follows the same beat with the fire: anger is not a bad thing to have. Rage can be motivating, a driving force, but it also must be balanced. A rage-and-fire-filled heart would drive Enna to self-destruction, but to rid herself of it entirely would be to destroy an essential part of her being. She does not need to be rid of it entirely, she needs to balance it. And the only way to balance it is the share the burden with a friend. Much as they do in Goose Girl, it is Enna's relationships with her friends that ultimately saves her. She learns to apologize, to forgive herself, and to reach out when she needs help. And isn't that the most inspiring lesson of them all?
Content Warnings
Moderate: Emotional abuse, Panic attacks/disorders, Torture, Toxic relationship, Kidnapping, Fire/Fire injury, Gaslighting, and Sexual harassment