pastlegacies

[pastlegacies]

Mohja Kahf, “Most Wanted”, Hagar Poems

[pastlegacies]

The Circle is Reforged

Tamora Pierce's Circle Reforged books are an interesting case, because this is really where she started bouncing around in time in Emelan, and filling in some parts of story that were mentioned, suggested, or explicity referenced but not told. The books themselves were published well and truly out of chronological order, but having read them in publication order as they came out and then in chronological order on reread, I honestly don't think there's a "preferable" strategy. If you've read the Circle of Magic and Circle Opens quartets, you can explore the Circle Reforged in whatever order. However, I think I'm going to cover them in (more or less, no promises) publication order here. So let's talk The Will of the Empress.

*absolutely rampant, unapologietic spoilers for the Circle of Magic and Circle Opens quartets below the break*

This book explore the implications and consequences of Lady Sandreline being both Fa Toren in Emelan and Fa Landreg in Namorn. Our girl is practically royalty in two countries, but after she is orphaned in Hatar's smallpox epidemic, Duke Vedris in Emelan and Lord Ambros Fer Landreg in Namorn largely shield Sandry from her responsibilities as the primary landowner of the Landreg estates--which is entirely reasonable given that she is ten years old at the time.

When we get to the beginning of Will of the Empress, though, Sandry has been functionally running Emelan in the wake of Duke Vedris's heart attack and Ambros has been pointedly sending her account books for her Namornese estates. Sandry has been neglecting the hell out of those, and misses the fact that the Empress of Namorn has been financially squeezing Landreg to try to force Sandry back to Namorn.

Sandry has also been largely completed separated from Briar, Tris, and Daja for almost two full years by the opening of this book, since they went off to travel with their teachers and she stayed. She's had contact with Lark, but even that dropped significantly once Sandry moved into the Duke's Citadel.

Given all of that and two years of personal growth and change, when our four protagonists reunite in the house Daja buys for them, they collectively seize up in self-consciousness and shame and uncertainty. Plus seriously powerful ambient magic. Which literally everyone with eyes (except our protagonists) can see is a bad thing. So to kill two birds with one stone, Duke Vedris asks Briar, Tris, and Daja to go with Sandry to Namorn as basically bodyguards. The background hope is that the four of them get to know each other again and find their equilibrium.

With a lot of yelling and a distinct lack of talking, they set off to Namorn.

Which is when we really get off to the races, because the lack of talking means that Briar hasn't told the girls he's dealing with PTSD from the war in Gyongxe; Daja hasn't said she is dealing with abandoment issues, figuring out her own sexuality, and having helped kill a friend who had killed a lot of people by setting fires; Tris hasn't told anyone that she developed a skill that kills or drives mad 99.99% of all mages who try it and the whole Ghost-is-Jack-the-Ripper thing in Tharios; and Sandry...well, I love our girl, but she's dealing with a combination of inheritance and political machinations, her crippling terror of another family member dying on her watch, and the fact that she actively chose to rip three people to shreds to save Pasco's life. So everybody has big feelings and nobody is dealing with them or communicating effectively. Which, again, is a GREAT combination with the phenomenal cosmic powers.

This is a Sandry-centric book, but as we did with Sandry's Book, we also get a metric ton of the other three as well, because as they did in Sandry's Book, they're coming together as a unit. Trying very, very hard to prevent that are Berenene dor Ocmor, Empress of Namorn and her court mages, Ishabal Ladyhammer and Quenaill Sheildsman. They are trying to either recruit or get rid of four legendarily powerful mages. The recruiting goes...poorly. For a variety of reasons. The getting rid of goes WORSE.

Part of the recruiting scheme for Sandry specifically includes a himbo husband that Berenene can boss around to her heart's content. The approved suitors are Jakuben fer Pennun, who had himbo down pat, and Finlach fer Hurich, who was less himbo and more goldigging asshole with an influential uncle. Finlach ends up leaping SO FAR over the line that Berenene has to slap him down so hard that his entire life is ruined.

Then we come to Pershan fer frickin' Roth. Even if you take the Namornese tradition of kidnapping brides into account, Shan takes the whole thing to another level because his ass makes Sandry feel SAFE and WANTED and VALUED AS A PERSON before turning around and kidnapping her in a trap tailor-made for subduing even a very powerful stitch witch. Literally this man is the worst and he deserved so much worse than he got.

Overall, this book is about reconnection and remembering that some bonds are deeper than two-year world tours. It's also about seeing your siblings as their whole selves and accepting them, warts and all, because they are the people you love and who love you back. This is one of my favorite Circle Universe books, and I think it is objectively the best Sandry book and the best "all four of us are here" book in the Circle universe.

This book also objectively heavier than the Circle of Magic and Circle Opens quartets. It's still technically YA, but it's the 16-19 end of YA more than the 13-15 end, given that it deals with not only PTSD and trauma, but also sexual assault and kidnapping, so take care if you aren't in a headspace for those topics. The book will still be there, and taking care of yourself in your book choices comes first, always.

[pastlegacies]

““Every creature has magic, even if it’s just the magic of life.””

— Niklaren Goldeye, Tamora Pierce, “Sandry’s Book”

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Something told the wild geese by Rachel Field

Something told the wild geese

It was time to go,

Though the fields lay golden

Something whispered, "snow."

Leaves were green and stirring,

Berries, luster-glossed,

But beneath warm feathers

Something cautioned, "frost."

All the sagging orchards

Steamed with amber spice,

But each wild breast stiffened

At remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese

It was time to fly,

Summer sun was on their wings,

Winter in their cry.

[pastlegacies]

[pastlegacies]

It’s dark because you are trying too hard.

Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly.

Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply.

Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.

I was so preposterously serious in those days, such a humorless little prig.

Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me.

When it comes to dying even. Nothing ponderous, or portentous, or emphatic.

No rhetoric, no tremolos,

no self conscious persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ or Little Nell.

And of course, no theology, no metaphysics.

Just the fact of dying and the fact of the clear light.

So throw away your baggage and go forward.

There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet,

trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair.

That’s why you must walk so lightly.

Lightly my darling,

on tiptoes and no luggage,

not even a sponge bag,

completely unencumbered.

Aldous Huxley , Island

[pastlegacies]

[pastlegacies]

It’s dark because you are trying too hard.

Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly.

Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply.

Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.

I was so preposterously serious in those days, such a humorless little prig.

Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me.

When it comes to dying even. Nothing ponderous, or portentous, or emphatic.

No rhetoric, no tremolos,

no self conscious persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ or Little Nell.

And of course, no theology, no metaphysics.

Just the fact of dying and the fact of the clear light.

So throw away your baggage and go forward.

There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet,

trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair.

That’s why you must walk so lightly.

Lightly my darling,

on tiptoes and no luggage,

not even a sponge bag,

completely unencumbered.

Aldous Huxley, Island

[pastlegacies]

[pastlegacies]

[pastlegacies]

― Louise Glück, from ‘Mitosis’        Poems 1962-2012

[pastlegacies]

taking my heart with me

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HUFFLEPUFF:

“Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Walk humbly now. Do justly now. Love mercy now. You are not expected to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”

–Rabbi Rami Shapiro (Wisdom of the Jewish Sages: A Modern Reading of Pirke Avot)

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you’ve still got time

tiny beautiful things, cheryl strayed | wild geese, mary oliver | anna akhmatova | tuesday, alex dimitrov | sunrise, louise glück | just thinking, william stafford | night walk, franz wright | why be happy when you could be normal?, jeanette winterson

[pastlegacies]

Rebecca Perry, Beauty/Beauty; from 'Kintsugi 金継ぎ'