The Stone Sky

“It’s strange, though. My memories are like insects fossilized in amber. They are rarely intact, these frozen, long-lost lives. Usually there’s just a leg, some wing-scales, a bit of lower thorax—a whole that can only be inferred from fragments, and everything blurred together through jagged, dirty cracks. When I narrow my gaze and squint into memory, I see faces and events that should hold meaning for me, and they do, but…they don’t. The person who witnessed these things firsthand is me, and yet not.”

Hoa’s metaphor illustrates the way memories erode and change with time, partly because the process of memory is inherently faulty, but also because in the moment of remembering, we are rarely the same person we were when the memory happened. This is especially true for Hoa, who has lived for 40,000 years and has changed his identity. Hoa also bends his memories to fit his current desires. For example, he remembers Kelenli looking like Essun, because on some level he wants Essun to fill the void Kelenli left when he lost her.

“What does bother you is that your runny-sack is gone. You carried that thing halfway across the Stillness, stashed your old rank-rings in it, even saved it from getting scorched to powder when a stone eater transformed himself in your quarters. There wasn’t much in it that still mattered to you, but the bag itself holds a certain sentimental value, at this point.”

That Essun is more bothered by losing her runny-sack than the fact that she is isolated and alone within the comm speaks to her priorities at this point in the novel. She is still thinking about her own short-term survival over everything else, including the bonds she has made with the people of Castrima. Shifting her priorities to the people around her and starting to think long-term, will define her character growth throughout the rest of the novel.

“The new woman, the conductor says, is Kelenli. That’s wrong, too. Her name is actually deep stab, breach of clay sweetburst, soft silicate underlayer, reverberation, but I will try to remember ‘Kelenli’ when I use words to speak.”

The tuners’ ability to speak to one another through the earth highlights how radically different their experience of life and reality is. Often, they’re unable to translate what they think or feel into spoken language, and this proves true for Kelenli’s name as well, to the degree that Hoa feels ‘Kelenli’ is wrong.

“But what is she saying? Teach us? We don’t need to be taught. We were decanted knowing nearly everything we needed to know already, and the rest we learned in the first few weeks of life with our fellow tuners. If we hadn’t, we would be in the briar patch, too.”

The conductors’ first and most powerful line of control over the tuners is controlling what they know. By conditioning the way they think, and then strictly limiting their knowledge base to things related to the Plutonic Engine and using magic, they limit the horizons of what it is possible for the tuners to think. The prospect of rebelling is impossible because that concept does not even exist for them until Kelenli makes them aware of it, and this is what makes Kelenli’s lessons in “context” so dangerous.

“You look away, feeling oddly defensive. The luxury of thinking beyond the next day isn’t something you’ve ever had much of a chance to try. ‘I’m not a headwoman. I’m just a rogga.’

Ykka tilts her head in ironic acknowledgment. You don’t use that word nearly as often as she does. When she says it, it’s pride. When you use it, it’s assault.

‘Well, I’m both,’ Ykka says. ‘A headwoman, and a rogga. I choose to be both, and more.’”

Ykka’s insistence on using the word “rogga,” despite it being a slur, is because she wants to reclaim it as a point of pride. Her goal with Castrima is to build a community where orogenes and stills can coexist, and that starts with everyone recognizing that she is an orogene—something they are supposed to fear and hate—and their headwoman. By constantly using the slur, she draws attention to the ways that everything it is supposed to signify is a false construction used to control and oppress orogenes, without erasing that history or pretending it does not exist.

“He pauses significantly, and with this as warning Nassun tries to brace herself. Here is where he will abandon her, she feels painfully, fearfully certain. Here is where he will want to know what she’s up to—and then want no part of it. Why would he? Even she knows that what she wants is a terrible thing.”

At this point, Nassun still has not accepted how much Schaffa cares for her or how far he will go for her. This is because she has internalized how the world sees orogenes and because her father, who was supposed to love her unconditionally, could not overcome this hatred. Schaffa’s willingness to help her end the world finally tips the scale, fully establishing him as the father figure she never had.

“‘I really just wanted to live somewhere nice,’ she says. ‘Live somewhere with… with you. I wouldn’t have minded working and doing things to be a good comm member. I could have been a lorist, maybe.’ She feels her jaw tighten. ‘But I can’t do that, not anywhere. Not without having to hide what I am. I like orogeny, Schaffa, when I don’t have to hide it. I don’t think having it, being a—a r-rogga—’ She has to stop, and blush, and shake off the urge to feel ashamed for saying such a bad word, but the bad word is the right word for now. ‘I don’t think being one makes me bad or strange or evil.’”

This is the crux of why Nassun wants to destroy the world: She has never been allowed to live a normal, simple life, and no orogene ever has, either. She has never been allowed to be herself or feel proud of who she is, and she has never felt like an accepted and loved member of a comm. These circumstances have completely colored her perception of the world and everything in it, which makes her susceptible to being persuaded by Steel’s nihilism.

“We may be tools, but we are fine ones, put to a magnificent purpose. It is easy to find pride in that.”

That the tuners take pride in their dehumanization is the clearest illustration of how deeply they have been conditioned to accept their circumstances. It is why Kelenli so badly wants to give them context and knowledge that undermines this idea. She wants to teach them that they are human but have never been given that basic right or respect.

“You take a deep breath. Extend a hand to him. So much of your past keeps coming back to haunt you. You can never forget where you came from, because it won’t rusting let you. But maybe Ykka’s got the right of it. You can reject these dregs of your old self and pretend that nothing and no one else matters…or you can embrace them. Reclaim them for what they’re worth, and grow stronger as a whole.”

Essun normally rejects connections with other people because she has been hurt so many times by betrayal and loss. However, those experiences, as well as the people she has had them with, make her who she is, and while pretending that none of it matters makes it easier to survive another day, it does not provide a foundation for a better future. This is why Ykka wants her to start embracing these connections.

“I step forward, putting my hands on the dead railing, and peer intently at the thing as if that will help. What to conclude? It has the same fundamental structure as other Plutonic Engines. Only its purpose is different—no, no. That’s too simple an assessment. What’s different here is…philosophical. Attitudinal. The Plutonic Engine is a tool. This thing? Is…art.

And then I understand. No one of Syl Anagist built this.”

The implication that no one in Syl Anagist is capable of creating art because of their philosophical worldview is perhaps the biggest indictment of their culture. They are so obsessed with functionality and purpose that they are incapable of conceiving of an object that exists just to be beautiful or provoke thought. This also makes the creation of art a subversive act in Syl Anagist. Niess art is fundamentally ecological and anti-capitalist in this context, and therefore an indictment of all things Sylanagistine.

“You fall silent then, dazed, troubled. Hoa’s hand is still extended toward you. An offer of answers. You aren’t sure you want to know, but…but you take his hand anyway. Perhaps it’s for comfort. You don’t imagine that his hand folds about your own and squeezes, just a little, in a way that makes you feel better. Still he waits. You’re very, very glad for his consideration.”

This comes right after Hoa has just explained to Essun that he is telling the story through her eyes rather than his own because though she is outwardly good at hiding her feelings, he knows what is inside her. Given that it is revealed Hoa is telling Essun her story in an attempt to preserve her essence after she is turned into a stone eater, it raises questions about the reliability of his narration and how much editorializing he is doing to guide Essun’s feelings about him and herself.

“‘One person’s normal is another person’s Shattering.’ Your face aches from smiling. There is an art to smiling in a way that others will believe, and you’re terrible at it. ‘Would’ve been nice if we could’ve all had normal, of course, but not enough people wanted to share. So now we all burn.’”

Essun says this to a man from Jekity after seeing Jija’s remains. He has asked her about the coming Season not being normal, and he does not hide his resentment for orogenes during their conversation. Essun’s point is that throughout her life, she has experienced many Shatterings: the loss of children, partners, and friends, for example. For her, these things were as life-changing as the Shattering, but for everyone else, it was completely normal, because orogene suffering is not only the status quo but the result of the oppressive system designed to keep them under control for the sake of everyone else.

“‘You’re Schaffa,’ she says. ‘You are! And…and you chose.’ Because that’s important. That’s the thing the world doesn’t want people like them to do. ‘You’re not my Guardian anymore, you’re—’ She dares to say it aloud at last. ‘You’re my new father. Okay? And th-that means we’re family, and…and we have to work together. That’s what family does, right? You let me protect you sometimes.’”

This quote is important for two reasons. First, it foregrounds the importance of choice. The fact that Schaffa chooses to love and protect Nassun even though it causes him physical pain is what separates him from other Guardians and even from his past self, and it is what makes him redeemable despite his past atrocities. Second, Nassun finally says out loud the thing she has felt for quite some time. She feels this way because Schaffa has been the only person to accept and encourage her to be herself. Her strength has grown immeasurably as a result, to the point that she even has the ability and skill to protect him now.

“These aren’t like the precisely cultivated, genegineered flower beds of the compound, with their color-coordinated winking flowers; what grows here is wild, and perhaps inferior, their stems haphazardly short or long and their petals frequently less than perfect. And yet…I like them.”

Almost every aspect of Kelenli’s life has been decided for her and rigidly controlled by the powers that be in Syl Anagist. Choosing to stay in the shed instead of Conductor Gallat’s mansion is a small act of autonomy and rebellion. She has made the shed feel like a home, and the wildflowers in the garden symbolize her efforts to divorce herself from the oppressive and exploitative machine that is Syl Anagist. The flowers might be less perfect, but there is a sense of liberty in the way they grow and exist when compared to their perfect, genegineered counterparts.

“They find eye contact challenging. But they also dismiss us more easily when we do not look at them, and I don’t want to be dismissed in this moment. I want him to feel this conversation, even if his weak, primitive sessapinae cannot tell him that my jealousy and resentment have raised the temperature of the city’s water table by two degrees.”

The conductors find eye contact challenging because it forces them to confront the reality that the tuners are more than tools. Hoa suggests how readily the eyes can convey the complex constellation of thoughts, feelings, and desires that people have, and recognizing these things in a tuner makes it that much harder to deny their personhood. Accepting that they are people would then raise a series of moral and ethical questions that would undermine the foundation of Sylanagistine civilization.

“But for the first time, I think of what life I might want for myself, if I could have a choice. I think of the house that Gallat lives in: huge, beautiful, cold. I think of Kelenli’s house in the garden, which is small and surrounded by small growing magics. I think of living with Kelenli. Sitting at her feet every night, speaking with her as much as I want, in every language that I know, without fear. I think of her smiling without bitterness and this thought gives me incredible pleasure. Then I feel shame, as if I have no right to imagine these things.”

Like Nassun 40,000 years later, Houwha wants a simple life with the people he cares about in a place where he can be himself and be free from fear and suffering. However, just as Nassun will realize, this kind of life is not afforded to people like them in this world. However, at this point, because of his conditioning, he still feels shame for his desires. This quickly changes, as rage fuels his desire for change.

“You will do this—make her see [the node maintainers], make yourself face it again, because this is the whole truth of what orogenes are. The Stillness fears your kind for good reason, true. Yet it should also revere your kind for good reason, and it has chosen to do only one of these things. Ykka, of all people, needs to hear everything.”

It is a harsh but unavoidable reality that if Castrima is going to survive at Rennanis, they will need to continue to make use of node maintainers. However, Essun also recognizes that as leaders, she and Ykka need to make this decision with full awareness of what that means, because to hide from it would repeat the sins of the past. To dismantle the systems of oppression they have suffered under, they must bring their structures to light.

“Imagine what that’s like, Nassun. Watching everyone you know and care about die. Watching your home die, and having to find a new one—again, and again, and again. Imagine never daring to get close to another person. Never having friends, because you’ll outlive them. Are you lonely, little Nassun?”

Steel is talking about Schaffa as he tries to convince Nassun to end the world, but he is talking about himself too. He is lonely and tired; he has had to start over again and again; and he has outlived everyone he cares about. Steel is 40,000 years old and has lived so long that he barely remembers who he was before becoming a stone eater, and this experience has made him nihilistic and looking for an out. The experience he describes could also be applied to the orogenes in the novel, and Steel uses this to his advantage as he manipulates Nassun, who at 11 years old is already tired of the life she has been forced to live.

“(Ignorance is an inaccurate term for what this was. True, no one thought of the Earth as alive in those days—but we should have guessed. Magic is the by-product of life. That there was magic in the Earth to take…We should all have guessed.)”

Jemisin makes a broad statement about how societies should view the sins of their past. Values and ethics evolve, but Hoa’s refusal to forgive the “ignorance” of failing to recognize that the earth was alive is a reminder that these decisions are always still political. The people of Syl Anagist had all the signs pointing to the earth being alive in front of them, but they ignored them because it was advantageous for them to do so.

“Yet for all its grandeur, despite the evidence it offers of feats of geneering long lost to humankind, Nassun cannot bring herself to be impressed by it. The hole feeds no one, provides no shelter against ash or assault. It doesn’t even scare her—though that is meaningless.”

The hole at the center of Corepoint is a symbol of everything Syl Anagist stood for. Nassun is completely unimpressed by it because her experience and worldview are so far removed from that of Syl Anagist that she can only see it literally. To Nassun, the hole serves no functional purpose she can understand. It is, literally, nothing: a negative space.

“Nassun lifts her hands, splaying her fingers in unconscious imitation of her mother.”

Despite all her efforts, and despite their time apart, Nassun has become very much like her mother. Beyond her orogenic abilities and the training Essun instilled in her, Nassun has now been subjected to the type of trauma and suffering that turned Essun into the hardened person who alienated Nassun before they were separated.

“With the onyx’s help, you reach half a planet away and stab the fulcrum of your intention into the wound of the world. The Rifting shudders as you demand every iota of its heat and kinetic churn, and you shudder beneath the flux of so much power that for a moment you think it’s just going to vomit out of you as a column of lava, consuming all.”

It is both fitting and symbolic that in the act of saving the planet, Essun uses its greatest wound. This has been the case for most of the characters throughout: they draw upon their damage to effect change. Though their goals and methods differ, characters like Essun, Nassun, Schaffa, and Hoa use their pain to repair their wounds and the wounds of the world.

“She inhales, her eyes widening as if she cannot believe what she is seeing: her mother, so fearsome, on the ground. Trying to crawl on stone limbs. Face wet with tears. Smiling. You have never, ever smiled at her before.”

This final image of Essun embodies the fraught nature of her parenthood. On the one hand, she cares so deeply about Nassun’s survival that she is willing to sacrifice herself and everything she believes in to prevent Nassun’s death. However, at the same time, Hoa notes that this is the first time she has ever smiled at her daughter, and a large part of Nassun’s struggles throughout the series have revolved around not feeling loved.