(Originally posted 28 June 2013 at trenchkamen.livejournal.com.)

[[Re-read, originally read 2006-2007.]]

I know these books have caught flack for being Tamora Pierce’s white savior series (and by that I mean I recall seeing it brought up in some online discussions, but the Tortall online presence isn’t exactly big), and that, I admit, is the first thing that jumps out at me upon examining the plot. It gives me pause, but, it makes sense that if Pierce wanted to write a story about Alanna and George’s daughter, she would have to be white–because Alanna and George are both white. So at least she is starting from that premise. And casting Aly as a master spy follows naturally from the upbringing she would have received from her father. For what it’s worth I thought Pierce handled this setup rather well. While Aly plays the role of White Savior this is, at least, discussed within the context of the narrative, which is far more than what could be said of most stories with the same setup. Well, since the “white savior” trope made its way into public consciousness (instead of just being something academics or activists noticed), stories with that trope frequently include a quick hand-waving sequence as an attempt to defuse any potential criticism, and, maybe, within the context of each individual story, this would be feasible, but every single fucking American movie wherein POC are liberated has a white savior, so it seems like a hollow attempt to quell dissent while still keeping investors happy by having a white (therefore ‘universal’) lead main character. It’s also a way to jack off the ego of quasi-intellectual quasi-liberals with a great deal of white guilt (but not enough insight and humility to actually do anything useful about it, or to play any role that doesn’t style them as the leader).

But I digress. I expected that, but allow me my self-indulgences on my blog.

Pierce mentions that this is the first series she has been allowed to write longer books, given that she writes for the YA market, and prior to Harry Potter, it was assumed kiddos would not tolerate a page limit beyond 200 or so. The content, also, has become more serious than I would expect of YA books. I don’t live under the delusion that YA books have undergone any sort of ‘progress’ insofar as allowing controversial issues is concerned (if anything, the past few years, it seems authors have backed off–or maybe that’s just me), but Pierce has always approached feminist and social issues with a refreshing frankness in her work. Classism has always been a topic of her books (moreso in the later-published Beka Cooper books), and racism had always been in the background of her works, but it had not taken center stage, so to speak, as Tortall, the country in which the first three Tortall universe books took place, is Eurocentric. The Copper Isles were invaded by luarin (white) opportunists three-hundred years prior to the opening of the book as the native raka (POC) population was rent by civil war. At the opening of the series, the white nobles own the vast majority of the land and wealth, and, while there are still old raka families, the power balance is clearly against the raka–think Australia or South Africa post-European settlement.

Pierce has faith enough in her young audience that they will draw the clear parallels between this world and our own–of which there are many. Many of her readers will start the book with the prejudices already engrained in our world, that dark skin is lesser, people of color are less intelligent, less honest, less industrious, etc, and this is not a book where the contrast is drawn in a way that is intentionally alien to highlight our own prejudice (example: the green-skinned people subjugate the blue-skinned people, that sort of thing). While those analogies are valid, they are often interpreted as a polemic for color blindness (i.e. “I don’t see race”). In this instance, where the paradigm is parallel and clearly recognizable (light-skinned people subjugating dark-skinned people), the reader can start out with prejudices and have them directly challenged in the course of the narrative. Granted, if this is the first time any readers have had these perceptions challenged, I lose all faith for the society in which they grow up.

That being said, the Trickster books do not fall into the cop-out, mealy-mouthed, faux-liberal-suburban-parent-pleasing pattern of espousing color-blindness as a solution–which more often than not may be an editorial restraint; I have no idea. When racism has shaped socioeconomic dynamics for hundreds of years, you can’t just declare racism ‘over’ and say that anybody who brings it up is being racist. I won’t go into that; God knows plenty of people already have, with far more finesse than I would be able to generate. (If you are not familiar with this concept, look it up posthaste, because God knows it is a prevalent enough misconception, and I was saturated in it growing up–I had to actively seek out this realization.) The book also addresses slacktivism, in a way, with the way the luarin conspirators are portrayed in the second book. In the age of reblog-the-Kony 2012-bullshit and consumer activism, this is an especially necessary issue to bring up, especially with young readers. God knows it probably isn’t brought up enough. And it explains why subjugated peoples tend to side-eye such slactivist activities, if anything viewing them as condescending and self-serving–and usually, slactivists react to this side-eyeing by being offended, and in that offense, a lot of entitlement and egoism becomes evident. It is a rare person who truly risks hirself for a cause that does not directly benefit hir.

Also there is the (very subtle, I admit–I thought I had my slash goggles nailed on, but apparently other people noticed it too?) hint that Dove might be a lesbian, involved with her maid/bodyguard, and that made me ridiculously happy. I don’t think anybody would notice it without already being aware of homosexuality, so to speak, or even hoping for a relationship like that to be represented, but I suspect the publishing house would balk at anything too explicit. They’re already cruising toward trouble with conservative parents publishing books that discuss birth control and sexuality frankly with characters in their mid-teens. But eeeekekeekekeek Dove would be the cutest with Boulaj. Anyway. Pierce has always been a stellar handler of female sexuality, treating it as something normal, healthy, and totally within the heroine’s control–and that is the only way it should be. She mentioned in an interview once that it was hard to find badass female characters who were also heterosexual, prior to publishing the Alanna books in the early 80s, which goes back to some roots in lesbian separatism, but I am always glad to see everybody represented. God knows women who love men need to be shown that is zero reason to compromise in relationship autonomy, and that despite what society tells them, being involved with a man does not mean being eclipsed by a man. (We see this same misogynist hatred for those involved with men, taking a heteronormatively-assumed ‘female’ role, when people are shocked that a guy is in a gay relationship because he seemed so ‘masculine’). Digressing greatly, this is a reason so many straight girls love slash–frequently, the male characters in a story are more universal, more vital–humans first, not ‘women’ first and foremost–so it is a rare model wherein members of a relationship are on equal footing. And that is a sad fucking statement about the way gender is portrayed in the media. It’s the sort of relationship dynamic many girls want with boys–but never get to see. Pierce delivers on that.

And the Darkings are back! I love the Darkings. They’re ridiculously cute. I want a Darking necklace that purrs when it’s happy.

I am glad, for what it’s worth, that Aly was not made a knight like her mama. I thought Pierce handled the mother-daughter disconnect quite well. And there was a brief Kel cameo, which is awesome, though she has yet to be as involved in the stories that are not directly her own as Alanna and Daine. I want to see more of her. And I love Ochobu.

Recommended, though probably not the best introduction to the Tortall series, if one is not familiar. There is a lot of background in the previous books that adds to the enjoyment of the story.