Advance copy provided by NetGalley
I am sick to death of dystopian fiction. I read a surfeit of it as a teenager, and sometimes it seems like there’s very little besides paranormal romance and dystopias available in the YA section. So I’d pretty much sworn not to read any more. And yet. I read this despite the blurb describing it as a "chilling post-apocalyptic adventure” and I loved it.
I’d actually intended to read the first book in this trilogy first - I went ahead and bought the Kindle version and everything! - but between one thing and another forgot what I was doing and ended up reading Blightborn and then Under the Empyrean Sky. A perfect example of things-never-come-out-as-planned-when-you-do-them-while-tired.
Interestingly, it actually makes very little difference to the story. Wendig’s writing is strong enough that in all honesty Blightborn could be a standalone novel. There was one section at the beginning of the book when Cael was talking about his wrecked boat that I didn’t understand, but other than that? It’s perfectly understandable and a good read. Not that it’s not a better read when you do read the first one, but it isn’t necessary to do so.
For those with zero exposure to the series, it takes place in a world divided, where the rich, known as the Empyrean, live in floating cities and the poor live in the Heartland, an endless expanse of the hungry, sentient corn that is all the Empyrean allows the inhabitants of the Heartland to grow, subject to drifting storms of virulent pollen and deprived of all but the most basic necessities. They’re also prey to proscriptive cultural traditions, such as Obligation, and traditions that sound good but aren’t, like the Lottery (which isn’t quite as bad as Shirley Jackson’s short story of the same title, but definitely isn’t the windfall it’s made out to be). In Under the Empyrean Sky, Cael McAvoy is fed up with surviving his life instead of living it, and he’s determined to make a stack of ace notes, get the girl of his dreams, and maybe if he’s lucky find something to make his tumor-ridden mother’s life more comfortable. What he gets is not quite what he had in mind. The sequel, Blightborn, follows up on the consequences of his actions and those of his family and friends.
The Heartland trilogy is one of resistance and rebellion. In the first book, Under the Empyrean Sky, it was against local figures of authority and constricting traditions (and a wee little bit against genetically modified crops). Blightborn takes the theme and broadens it. It’s not merely the personal manifestations of oppression that need resisting but the institution that imposes them in the first place. And as the story progresses, precisely whom and what to resist becomes the real question.
Who, precisely, is the hero of the story is another question, and one that I’m not sure I can answer. Is it Gwennie, who won the Lottery to escape the Heartland, found that all it meant was more drudgery, and decided to do something about it? Is it Cael, desperate to rescue his beloved Gwennie and his runaway sister Merelda from the Empyrean, all the while fighting a curse of his own? They, and several other characters, all get a chance to narrate, and while this could seem clumsy in the hands of a less experienced writer, Wendig keeps all the perspectives distinct and the pace brisk. One thing that I particularly like is that even his minor characters all have heroic qualities - we have Merelda, who makes her dreams reality but finds them hollow; Lane, who wrestles with homophobia and the clay feet of his idols; Rigo, who loses his leg but finds his strength; Davies, whose daughter is worth more than his revenge; Balastair, whose past is full of secrets and whose present is a seemingly-impenetrable wall of frustration; even Boyland and Proctor Agrasanto (reminded me of Monsanto, which is probably a coincidence…), whose antagonistic natures contain seeds of loyalty, devotion, and self-sacrifice. Every one of them has a character arc I’d be willing to spend a whole novel following.
One facet of the novel that I particularly enjoyed was the gradual revelation of the extent of the Empyrean’s villainy and the equally gradual revelation of the horrific extent of the resistance’s - the Sleeping Dogs - grand plan to bring them down. While at first it seems like, in the grand scheme of oppressive dystopian rule, the Empyrean is no Capitol (from the Hunger Games), by the end of the book it becomes clear that they have a feat of horrific utilitarianism in mind. Similarly, the Sleeping Dogs aren’t content to end the rule of the Empyrean - most of them are planning blood for blood, and they’ve got a plan for that that just might work. Little does everyone know that there’s a third player in the game which would be more than happy to pick up the pieces after the Sleeping Dogs and the Empyrean have ripped each other to shreds, and while we don’t learn precisely what the Maize Witch has in mind, there’s a definite suggestion that it too may well be less than benevolent.
There was very little about this book and the preceding book in the trilogy that I didn’t like. The form of environmental devastation Wendig chose was particularly apt; monoculture, overcultivation, and pesticides are very real problems, and ones that many teenagers may be less familiar with than oppressive governments, nuclear devastation, global conflict, and global warming. On the other hand, I’m not sure that GMO farming deserves quite that much hate. In the end, my biggest problem is that the societies themselves are not as fully developed as they could be. The Empyreans seemed sort of sketched out and unoriginal. It’s your typical vaguely steampunk largely indifferent aristocratic degeneracy with a thin veil of underdeveloped religiosity. Given that it’s the main bad guy, it’d be nice to have something definite to hate. The Sleeping Dogs are a fairly standard resistance group with fairly standard biases and desperate plots, too, and the Heartland is fairly typically rustic-regressive, with their arranged marriages and small-minded local politicians. It’s not that any of these are badly done, exactly, but the blandness of them is what’s keeping this series merely good. It definitely has the potential to be great, and I would like to read more of Wendig’s work - and am eagerly anticipating the concluding volume of this trilogy - but it’s not one I’m going to return to over and over.
tl;dr - A fun read with memorable, well-written characters with almost a superfluity of excellent character arcs, a nicely-balanced plot, and a fairly solid premise - this is a YA dystopia for people who don’t like YA dystopias as well as for those who do! It does get a bit gory in places, and if you have problems reading about characters struggling against homophobia, you may want to skim a couple of pages.