Apologies for the slightly disorganised post.
Magic in the Weaving:
Devil, Dickensian is a good word for it! Particularly, I think, because of the ‘little boy in poverty’ vibes with Briar, and even Tris.
There’s something truly magical about the first scene in MitW. Sandry, like many a fairytale heroine (Cinderella, the miller’s daughter in Rumpelstiltzkin) has to sew to save her life. The simple setting and the vivid imagery (particularly visual imagery) make this work for me. It’s a very powerful opening scene because it’s eerie, macabre, horror-movie - the flashback to the abandoned castle, all the inhabitants dead of plague. I always imagine the “Drink to Lord Death” part in sepia. I think that’s why it works so much better for me as an opening than Daja’s introductory scene.
(Speaking of, if you haven’t read Kris Eleven’s Falls the Shadow yet, you should.)
The foreshadowing in Scene 1 cements this book for me.
In S1, when Sandry draws on the threads (red-green-grey for Daja, Briar and Tris respectively, and the light to symbolise her own “honey colour”), she is drawing on her own inner power but also on her potential for making and keeping friends, and bringing people together.
It’s significant, too, that all four of them keep the roof from collapsing on top of them during the quake. Before WC, none of the kids came from environments which placed value on a solid home life/a literal roof over their heads. Even Daja, who had the most stable home life pre-series, never actually had a physical land to call home.
(Can’t remember who pointed out that the thread colours resemble Sandry’s friends’ magic, but it’s a good point.)
I really liked the quick cuts introducing the kids. They served to accentuate the life-or-death situations that most of the trio were in. If you’re referring to the short introductory scenes at WC after they were rescued and before they went to Discipline, then I’ve got to defend those as well.
devilinthedetailsIt’s quite a feat to write four distinct characters, and to do so in a semi-slice-of-life, semi-action format is even harder.
There is a real structure to these scenes:
1. Establishing shots: Daja and Sandry in mortal peril; Briar in jail, about to have his fate decided (he’s not in danger for his life, but jail is a pretty serious situation for anyone, never mind a child). Tris isn’t in physical danger, but she is the perennial outsider, which puts her in a different, ‘spiritual’ or mental, sort of danger (she’s not one of the group). As you say, they play on fears most of us have.
2. Rescue, then the journey to Emelan/WC
3. Scenes where the kids, although physically safe, end up being attacked by their peers at Winding Circle due to their background (well, Daja and Briar do. Tris and Sandry, not so much).
I think that having anything other than quick cuts, so to speak, would not only have dragged on too long, it would have created a very different atmosphere.
These are all very filmic books, aren’t they? I find that with TP in general. Just look at SotL: purple eyes, red hair, white horse and gold sword, black city and burning desert. There’s something extremely cinematic about that series.
That said, it definitely does take a while to get started!
So many favourite scenes in this book! I love practically all of them, but highlights are: Briar and Tris watching clouds, their meditation lesson in the Hub, Sandry meeting Daja, Sandry giving Tris the wall hanging, the kids’ first lessons with their teachers (well, Rosethorn’s isn’t so much a lesson).
Would’ve liked to see some more Sandry and Daja (and Sandry/Tris, and Daja/Tris, for that matter) throughout the series.
Interesting how Sandry - especially at the outset - is forced to trust non-nobles, whereas Daja is actively discouraged from making friends with non-Traders (and justifiably so, if the other kids’ treatment of her is anything to go by).
Power in the Storm:
Don’t have much to say about this one. I liked it, particularly the introduction of new tech and new characters (Gorse! And Aymery, I suppose). I really wanted more Niko and Tris in this one, or just more Niko in general.
PitS has a much darker palette, and a much less pastoral feel, than MitW. Things are getting real. I loved the plot of this one — fake storm clouds, very clever. Favourite scene would have to be Tris drinking in the lightning, or maybe the battle with the pirates (grisly though it is). And, obviously, great subplot with the kids’ powers leaking into each other.
I also liked how much Sandry and Lark we get here. Yeah, could you tell I’m a Sandry fan?
Fire in the Forging:
Ah, man, this is my least favourite in the quartet (by a whisker). I’m not entirely sure why.
This feels a lot like a transition book to me - by which I mean, well, it repeats the motif of the kids’ powers coming together, albeit in more destructive ways than before (yes, I know it intensifies it and then ties it up, but still). There’s also not as much emphasis on student-teacher relationships, and they do a lot of hanging around and waiting in Lady Inoulia’s castle.
That said, I do like the scenes with Polyam and the worldbuilding. And once things kick up a notch with Daja and Briar finding the glacier, man, do they amp up! The climax of this book is probably one of the most impressive in the Emelan-verse for sheer cinematic potential. It’s terrifying, action-packed and (visually) spectacular.
‘Favourite’ scene: The mchowni scene. There’s an emotional heft to it. Not only does it have very dark overtones of slavery and abuse/paedophilia, it develops Frostpine as a character.
I know that’s an odd scene to pick, but it’s always stuck with me.
Other thoughts: The older I get, the more I sympathise with Yarrun. Tammy did very well at making Daja, child that she is, blithely unaware of his headspace. Again this is another layer to the darkness of this book.
The Healing in the Vine:
Whoever came up with the title, there are no vines in this book, mate. I guess it sounds catchier than ‘The Healing in the Slum’.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: High-Octane Nightmare Fuel. It’s pervaded by this sense of urgency and claustrophobia that is absolutely convincing. These days, epidemics in fiction are mostly the stuff of horror movies (Contagion, zombie virus, post-apocalyptic fiction). I would venture that it’s relatively rare, particularly in children’s fiction, to see this sort of careful treatment of disease. We see it from the perspective of two people who are not only quarantined, but doggedly pursuing a cure against very high stakes. One of whom is an eleven-year-old child.
The insidious (treatment-resistant) nature of the plague mimics real-life contagious epidemics very well. It’s an absolutely perfect book, and a very strong finish to the series.
Like devil, I liked the innovative/scientific take on research in this book (more Crane, in his element this time!). I also liked learning more about Lark, Rosethorn and Crane’s backstories.