I can’t count this one for my North Africa Challenge, but the geography and culture of this fantasy world sort of felt like North Africa–or the American southwest: desert winds, adobe houses, camels, cowls and robes, a language related to Spanish or Portuguese.
The story itself reminded me of Dune, not just the desert setting but also the political intrigue and war strategy. Dune is, if you’ve read it, a bit more sophisticated than this book, but then again while author Frank Herbert (Dune, Dune Messiah, and many sequels) overdid the philosophical and political complications to the point of farce, the world of Girl of Fire and Thorns feels more believable and down to earth, if one can use that term in reference to a work of fantasy.
Our protagonist, Princess Elisa, second daughter of King Hitzedar de Riqueza of Orovalle, feels fat, useless and unloved. Then, when she is rushed into an arranged marriage with King Alejandro of the neighboring country of Joya d’Arena, she feels even more disregarded and unappreciated. Alejandro won’t even announce their wedding in his own kingdom for some reason, and the marriage remains unconsummated. Elisa carries the Godstone, the special gifting that only comes into the world once in a generation, but her special gift doesn’t mean anything when she doesn’t know what her service is supposed to be or how to find out.
Religion plays a big part in this story, another aspect reminiscent of Dune. Elisa prays and receives answers to her prayers, assurance of God’s presence through the Godstone which turns warm in the midst of prayer and praise and icy cold in the face of danger. The religious practices and tenets in the world that Ms. Carson has created for her debut novel are not really like any one religion that exists in this world, although the “Sancta Scriptura” that is quoted sounds a lot like the Hebrew psalms in English translation. Anyway, it’s good to see religious practice integrated into a fantasy novel instead of its being jettisoned in favor of a modern, evolved consciousness or vague spirituality.
The moral dilemmas and the coming of age of the main character are all a part of the novel, too, making it a classic fantasy with the usual themes. But Girl of Fire and Thorns is fresh and compelling. Without its becoming a feminist tract, the novel has a strong female protagonist who deals with her own weaknesses without becoming dependent on a man for her salvation and her growth as a character. Elisa is a well-rounded character, sometimes weak and self-indulgent, but finally reaching within herself and looking to God to find the strength she needs to carry out the task assigned to her for the sake of the people of her country and of her world.
The final plus for this novel is that it’s self-contained. It has a perfectly adequate ending, and although I see the wiggle space for the sequels in a planned trilogy, I didn’t feel cheated or teased by a cliffhanger ending. I appreciate that kind of respect shown by the author for her readers, and I will reciprocate by reading the next two books in the series, if they’re anywhere near as good as this one.