Somewhere in my childhood, I mentally classified this book in the 'perfect-for-me' category, despite never remembering a thing about it except scenes of darkness and bleak mountains, dim hearths and hushed voices. The fact that such a sooted landscape could stay so rooted in my brain speaks volumes about Sherryl Jordan's writing. People often criticize descriptive writing; Jordan knows how to do it right. I've only read this book a couple times in my life and each time I vividly recall an 'ahh, damn' moment, upon closing that last page. And still, my memories of the plot and the characters remain dim. So this summer I decided to reread it, study its impact on me, and see if it holds up and understand why I loved it so much, despite how fleeting it lives in my memory. I learned that 'Winter of Fire' both exceeded and failed my expectations, this time around.
This book is evocatively elemental. It's about a world that has become dependent on coal (Firestone) that the earth has become so polluted it has blocked out the sun. (I think). In a place without sun, warmth means everything. Firestones are the lifeblood of the Chosen people, and in order to maintain free and constant labour, they have re-written history to subject a less powerful group of people (The Quelled) into slavery. Went the sun, and so did human morality.
I felt totally enraged at the injustices experienced by Elsha and The Quelled. Jordan depicted slavery so poignantly and viscerally. She wonderfully drew out Elsha, throughout the journey, as the young woman began to realize herself the need for change. I liked this girl. She played the social games with as much aloof politeness as anyone could be able to, while simmering with her own matter-of-fact opinions and beliefs. I HATED the Chosen, but to her they were never enemies. She saw them as ignorant and misguided, with an unfortunate amount of power. Jordan has created an excellent wise woman.
Unfortunately it was Jordan's characters that ultimately made the book fall terribly flat for me. Outside of Elsha and the Firelord, and perhaps some enraging prejudiced Chosen, everybody was terrible boring. Yes you had a couple flirts here, a healing saint there, but you never really got a sense of people's personalities. There was something weirdly one-dimensional about the people, which was so stark against the all-encompassing dimensions of the beautifully described landscape. Lesharo was something of a useless figure; was he supposed to represent her past? He's a symbol for something, I just can't figure it out. Maybe he represents her beginning, and Teraj her end. I didn't appreciate the Firelord's pithy undermining of her Quelled status, especially considering his own relationships with the Quelled. (I.e. wife). Do all the single young men need to fall in love with her? That said, I SO appreciated Jordan's scene with her picnicking with Alejandro (or was it Amasai? I forget), where Elsha realises that though she can see Alejandro admiring her and SAYING he respects her, he still follows the custom of eating first and making her wait. Elsha quietly realizes he will never see them as equals, and mentally writes him off. This scene was an unusually subtle way of describing hypocrisy in terms of respect. A really subversive, interesting moment.
This book also bit off a lot more than it could chew upon the battlefield. It was hard to imagine such a loner character, constantly cast out into bleak terrains, could conjure up a winning army. Amasai might command a great army, but the soldiers in that army are men who share the same prejudices as all the other Chosen. I don't understand how they would be willing to lay down their lives for a Quelled, considering how denigrated Jordan wrote this relationship to be. The politics in this book was clumsy.
Still, I love the story. I love the scenes. I'm not overly believing the personal dynamics of Elsha and her relationships, as it's a bit shallow, but I will for sure read it again. Maybe in another 10 years, when I've forgotten all of this again and can only think of a coal-darkened world with bits of flickering fire to illuminate life. The book, and ubiquitously the earth and humankind, rely on hearths (of a sort). When I say this book is elemental, I mean so in the both the human and the geographical sense. People need light and warmth, especially in Elsha's dark world, and it's interesting to see civilizations resort to their barest power grabs in order to survive and capture the warmth. I say geogrpahically, because Jordan describes such a viscerally dead and living atmosphere, connected by currents of water and coal. Like Mars or dinosaur vistas, she writes a world so fundamentally base, tectonically stolid yet moving, groaning and lifeless, all of the little existences on its surfaces getting swallowed up as it slips under the surface. Through Elsha, I see a people, roaming Earth's craggy body for millenia.
Some particular lines that had me closing my eyes:
"Rocks stood like spectres in the gloom, silent sentinels to the dawn." (110)
"He was cold, locked in lonely cold." (187)
"We came to the edge of a ravine, so deep and vast that the river below was a distant thunder, its turbulence lost in haze, and the white rage of the wind. There were strange booming echoes in the depths, sounds strangled by the wind, cries and voices and distant, wasted howls. (218)