Friday, 26 June 2020

Yes, a falling tree does make a sound


Yes, a falling tree does make a sound if no one’s there to hear it. People make this out to be a profound philosophical issue, but it’s not. It’s common sense.

Sound is produced from vibrations, which is turn are caused by movement. Falling is movement, creating vibrations which thus means falling necessarily makes a sound.

Whether someone’s there or not is inconsequential.

Further, think of the way the question is constructed. ‘Does a tree make a noise if no one’s there to hear it?’ This implies that a human causes the sound by being present. This is clearly ridiculous.

Also, animals would be living in, on or nearby that tree: they’d hear if it fell. There’s no reason why human ears would be needed, like the question specifies.

Finally, what if the ‘somebody’ present is deaf? They can’t hear the tree falling. So there isn’t someone there to hear the tree fall. But for deafness to exist, sound necessarily has to exist. Thus the tree does make a sound even though it can’t be heard.

All in all, it’s a rather stupid question. It’s constructed poorly and the only thing making this a ‘conundrum’ is how people ever thought it was a conundrum in the first place.


Friday, 12 June 2020

Critique: Children of Blood and Bone 3/3 (Tomi Adeyemi)

*****SPOILERS*****

 

Zelie

My goodness, Zelie’s character is massive. She is a diviner and, once she touches the scroll, she is a Reaper maji, having control over death.

The author allows the reader to live through Zelie’s experiences often. Like when her father almost drowns, the reader feels everything Zelie feels. It’s more heart-wrenching than I expected from a book.

I don’t know who to hate more: the drunkard who pawed at Zelie or the sober guard that let it happen. Zelie’s angry but not furious. For abuse of power to become so regular that even Zelie’s anger is toned down by expectation shows something needs to change.


Zelie pushes her guilt and blame onto others.

She’s not the cause of all the problems (even though the book tries to frame it that way) but she does exacerbate the situations once in them. But no one blames her for these exacerbations even though they’re the only bad events that she causes. It’s a bit bizarre unless you realise that people always keen to blame someone. Zelie is this story’s scapegoat. It’s hard to shoulder your own guilt and blame, let alone that which doesn’t belong to you.

The only thing that I can attribute blame to is in the beginning when she almost gets everyone killed after annoying the guards. She, expecting Mama Agba to punish her, is instead handed a cuppa and she asks if it was poisoned. There was no fear or anxiety, just resignation. This scene gave me a good chuckle, something often repeated throughout.

She feels guilt for when her village went up in flames (after promising not to mess anything else up). But she saved someone. The guards torched the place because they want Amari and the scroll. These aren’t Zelie’s consequences but they burn her heart nonetheless. It’s so bad that she just wants to die. None of her actions are suicidal but she does wish for death more often than usual.

 

After being tortured, Zelie can’t use magic. (Aside from blood magic so that’s interesting. No explanation as of yet.) She touches the sunstone but that doesn’t work. Yet no one thinks to make her touch the scroll which is what opened up her magic in the first place (the sunstone had nothing to do with it.) So this whole episode was a bit baffling. Maybe the answers will come later in the series?

 


Zelie and Amari

Amari receives the brunt of Zelie’s rage against the monarchy.

Zelie’s mad because diviners are discriminated for no reason other than the family they were born into. And she’s mad at Amari… for the family she was born into. Blaming someone for their parents’ actions is beyond stupid, especially when that child is working to undo said actions.

Tzain keeps on defending Amari but Zelie is having none of it. Tzain said she’s done nothing wrong and Zelie counters she’s done nothing right. (Other than helping bring magic back?)

Tzain also says Amari was a child during the Raid so there was nothing she could do. Zelie says that Amari ‘got to kiss her mother that night’. The fact that the queen doesn’t like Amari enough to do that is just an extra kick in the teeth. A parent that cares dying is a bigger loss than a parent that doesn’t.

 

Amari is fascinated with the people, their lives and their environments, simply transfixed by everything… peasenty.

Zelie makes the comment ‘How strange that she was born to rule a kingdom she’s never seen.’ No, her brother Inan the crown prince was born to rule because he was born first.

But then later Amari decides she should be the next ruler of Orisha. However, Zelie shows no prophetic abilities and every other time she uses or is near magic, she feels it, meaning that for that statement to be a vision we would have read about the sensation of magic.

 

Zelie’s terrible opinion of Amari is eventually shattered.

            At first, Amari struggles to sell the headdress Binta gave her. She risks death and wants to save the diviners but won’t give up some clothing. Zelie is furious but once she remembers her own similar experience, Amari sells the headdress. This makes Amari no longer a burden and shows Zelie that the princess is fully committed to the cause.

Zelie sees the scars on Amari’s back. She realises that even the nobility aren’t safe from the king. It’s from this moment on that the trio begin working as a team, rather than Tzain being the only thing keeping the girls together. Zelie also gets back scars thanks to King Saran’s actions, creating a nice parallel. (Just a side note: Amari is a princess. She’s part of royalty, not nobility. Yes royals often marry nobles but their functions and powers are completely different.)

 

 

Zelie and Inan

Zelie and Inan have a magical connection, allowing them to share a dreamscape. This creates a foundation to their relationship so that their first meeting is akin to two colleagues, not two enemies.

Zelie is shocked to see the white streak in Inan’s hair because Kodisan can’t develop magic. Yet Zelie just said magic is a gift from the gods. Surely gods can give their gifts to whomever they want?

Despite having continual arguments about magic, they kindle a romance. The author plays with Zelie’s hatred turning to love with images like a sword that doesn’t kill her but frees her.

Tzain disapproves of the romance, telling Zelie that if only their mum ‘”knew she died so that you could be the prince’s whore."’ Holy f*ck, Tzain. That’s harsh. I laughed with the shock of it.

 

Zelie and Inan have opposing views on magic’s place in the world. It’s the topic they both feel most strongly about, even if for Inan it’s to gain his father’s attention.

Inan wants magic to be oppressed/destroyed, not the diviners. Zelie argues that it’s one in the same, taking away something inseparable from diviner culture. Inan can only see it as an issue of power. Never mind that taking magic away gives you power over them.

Inan desperately wants to understand Zelie’s viewpoint but she came back with a dose of reality. The kingdom was built for the kodisan to love the kodisan. Kodisan don’t get cursed in the streets. With Inan not wanting others to know about his magic in fear of their reaction, he gets a glimpse into the life of a diviner.

 

Eventually, Zelie persuades Inan over to team magic. Almost instantly, Zelie accidentally hurts Tzain and views magic as dangerous. Inan brings Zelie back to pro-magic and then Inan becomes anti-magic again. So every time someone changes another’s mind, their own mind switches sides. It’s an immediate flip-flop each time which was annoying. A little variation in time would have made it appear more natural.

 

 

Conclusion

This novel captivated me from its beginning and didn’t lose its allure all the way to the end.

It’s refreshing to read a novel through perspectives I can’t ever live through (a black woman) and an issue I can’t ever experience (colourism, because white people often prefer a tan. Somehow that’s good but being born darker is a problem? Don’t really understand that one).

This novel never felt preachy, even though it had every right to be, which will make it more accessible to. The plot, setting and characters are beautiful and consistent so Adeyemi is a fantastic writer. I look forward to book two!


Friday, 5 June 2020

Critique: Children of Blood and Bone 2/3 (Tomi Adeyemi)



*****SPOILERS*****


General Notes

Nailah, Zelie’s ryder, is a lionaire (essentially, a large lioness). She is a loving pet, their vehicle, and unusual because she has horns.
People ride their ryders so that’s odd at first. There are other -naires, including panthenaires. In real life, panthers are the black morphs of big cats so I wonder if panthenaires are black morphs of other -naires or if they’re their own species/breed?
Nailah is often present during emotional interactions. There are many tender moments with the lionaire herself but she’s allows the characters to be vulnerable with each other and with themselves. For example, Zelie fiddles with the ‘cracks in Nailah’s saddle as pits form in her chest.’ It was one of those sentences where you have to stop reading, just to think.


Descriptions of pain are very accurate.
Zelie views hers as welcome and ‘almost deserved’. She feels guilty for everything that’s gone wrong and she feels guilty that she can’t save magic and thus the diviners. People suffering chronic pain often feel guilty for it and, lacking a real reason, they connect it to a guilt they already have. It makes the real guilt worse than it needs to be. But emotional pain can distract from physical pain so maybe it’s a natural coping mechanism.
It’s also stated that Zelie ‘lives in the prison of her pain’. If this single line was read by everyone in the world, they’d understand how debilitating pain can be. They’d understand without having to suffer with it themselves.
A character burns himself alive and the description of his flesh burning and veins popping are excellent. It didn’t shy away from heavy detail so it felt… genuine. It made me uncomfortable, as if a person was telling me what it felt like to burn alive. This was my second favourite line in this book.


As always, some things leave me scratching my head.
            Post-life, there is ‘alafia’ (the afterlife) and ‘apadi’ (hell). They’re described as states of existence yet the way they’re used in a sentence would lead the reader to believe they were places separate from the land of the living. If this were the case then they should be capitalised. The grammar and the information are conflicting which means a lack of clear communication.
            Amari sees then calls Zelie. But in the next chapter, Amari acts like she hasn’t seen Zelie in ages. I doubt if even a single minute had passed so this was odd.
            The author flits between using ‘trousers’ and ‘pants’. I’d always thought Americans didn’t say ‘trousers’ at all but maybe I’m wrong?
            The timing seemed to be all over the place. Early on, Zelie, Amari and Tzain complain that they won’t have enough time to get everything and get to the island. Much later, Amari’s convinced there’s plenty of time. Yes she could be trying to make everyone feel motivated but it seemed pretty genuine.
The big timing issue came when Zelie had been freed and there was one day until the solstice. The mercenary who’d take them to the island was half a day away. Zelie and company sail to the island at the same time as Inan. But Inan says it’s been two days since Zelie was freed. Either the author mixed up her timing or she hadn’t communicated them properly.


Amari

Throughout, Princess Amari feels inadequate but is determined. She doesn’t let this abuse from her mother get in the way of achieving what she feels is right. She’s always been upset with how diviners are treated.
Amari carries the burden of guilt for not saving Binta from death. She’d just seen her father (of whom she’s terrified) lift his admiral in the air by his throat. Going against a parent’s wishes is hard, even if they’re not abusive or murderous. How is she meant to stop that kind of power?
It’s in this moment when Amari sees magic flow from Binta’s hand and she realises it’s not all bad, that the maji aren’t always planning attacks. It’s in this moment that Amari decides to be brave for Binta. Eventually, this becomes ‘For Binta, I must be everything.’ Because Binta’s dead and can’t be anything. Because Binta is worth everything.
As Amari’s confidence grows, so does her sense of humour (I adore it). For example, the morning after Tzain and Amari were captured, Tzain wonders if Amari’s first night with a boy was what she was expecting. Amari replies, ‘”I always expected less bondage.”’ I howled at that one.
The princess does slip up, calling Tzain and Zelie ‘you people’. Seeing as Tzain is outwardly a kodisan, I think this remark was less distaste for diviners and more upper class disdain for the poor. Obviously this doesn’t help when every diviner is in poverty.


Inan

Prince Inan’s spirit is connected with Zelie’s which keeps them bonded despite their differences and loathing for each other. He describes Zelie as staining his mind which would ordinarily be a loving thing but this came straight after colour was discussed, playing into the stereotype of colour and dirt. (Seeing as something as light as milk makes things unhygienic, why darkness is associated with uncleanliness is beyond me.) Inan’s perspective didn’t entice me. I find it difficult to read things that are obsessive (even when they’re done well) but there was a particular piece that caught my attention. Commander Kaea picks throwing knife from corpse ‘like a rose from a garden’.


The view Inan has of the kingdom and of magic are clear instances of indoctrination by his father, King Saran.
The king’s first family died due to magic. Many empires (with names reminiscent of Britannia, Portugal and Spain) fell because of magic. Saran wants to protect his kingdom and his new family. Whilst I don’t condone his behaviour or sympathise with his positions, I do understand why Saran is the way he is.
The prince has always accepted his father’s view of magic and never questioned it. But once he sees the strength of magic, this confirms his dad’s position. This is also what spurs Inan to use his magic to its full potential. Yes this might seem contradictory but if magic’s strength is frightening, then using something that is its equal (i.e. magic) is the only way forward. Fight fire with fire.
Inan chants ‘Duty Before Self’ constantly, a phrase originating from his father’s blade. Near the end, he finishes it with ‘Kingdom Before King’ which is also on the blade, playing a deciding role in the plot. Whilst it would have done nothing for the plot in the rest of the book, it was too important to be mentioned for the first time at the end. So I think the first time Inan said ‘Duty Before Self’ should have included ‘Kingdom Before King’. Besides, if remembering what’s written on a sword is important, you’d recollect the entire thing.
Inan seems entirely clueless about his people because he doesn’t understand why a mother fears his soldiers. Anyone would be uncomfortable if their home gained a large military presence, even if the personnel were perfectly friendly. The fact that it doesn’t cross Inan’s mind that soldiers take liberties with their position of power is astonishing.
He finally understands the issues when his magic allows him to picture Zelie’s life, seeing that a magi is still a human and how horrific the royal orders have been. So Inan decides to accept magic.
Is it an ironic that he only accepts magic because he has it? All his life it’s been us and them: they’re different from me so they’re at fault. So he gets magic it’s no longer us and them, just us. He doesn’t accept magic because he’s become more tolerable but rather he accepts magic because he no longer sees it as ‘other’. His changed view is meant to show us that’s he’s becoming a better person but instead it proves that he’s still an uncaring person.


There were several occasions within Inan’s perspective that made me raise an eyebrow. For example, Inan mentions his ‘plotting and manoeuvring’… what plotting and manoeuvring? The reader sees no evidence of this at all!
When Commander Kaea finds out Inan has magic, she flees and screams the news to the world. Kaea is a character with phenomenal composure. I’m not convinced that she would lose her cool at all, let alone to this extreme. Maybe something terrible happened to her with magic, but then why didn’t she react this badly to Binta’s magic? I’m left puzzled.
Inan commands labourers to build a bridge to cross the mountain, allowing him to follow Zelie. But it was a difficult mountain to climb. How did they bring such heavy tools and equipment up the mountain? This isn’t explained. This makes the bridge a dodgy story point. Yet the story requires the bridge: if the bridge has no stable foundations then the story can’t be built upon it. This puts a large crack into the rest of the story.