Eon: Dragoneye Reborn by Alison Goodman

[renay]

Eon, a Dragoneye candidate, has spent years dedicating himself to the study of magic, blade and dragon arts in order to become the new apprentice Dragoneye of his year. With a disability from an accident in his youth, a hard master and little support, Eon seeks the power of the dragons while carrying a secret, one that could result in death. Eon, twelve year old Dragoneye candidate is actually Eona, sixteen year old girl, disguised as a boy because female use of Dragon Magic is forbidden, even though she has the power to see all the dragons. All her hopes and entire future is centered on keeping her true identity a secret.

Eon: Dragoneye Reborn had a lot of elements that intrigued me and sat on my reading list for ages while I pined for it and read Stanley Fish instead. I especially love stories where people hide in the performance of other genders. I fell in love with the trope after I saw an excellent performance of Twelfth Night at my local university in 2007. For awhile there I was all over the concept. A girl, determined to fulfill her dreams regardless of social rules or how she is looked upon in society? A girl parading as a boy, fooling everyone and playing politics and amassing power? It's like catnip. So why didn't this book work for me? There are a few answers and two are full of spoilers.

Everyone has probably heard of Avatar: The Last Airbender by now, as the show has surpassed its targeted Nickelodeon audience to become a critical success with adults as well for it's nuanced and respectful portrayal of a culture that's nothing like I've ever experienced in my rural United States upbringing. Avatar blends thoughtful characterization with a plot so finely arranged it makes me flail in joy as well as grind my teeth in jealousy. It's set against a back drop of a fascinating and obviously well-researched fantasy culture inspired by East-Asian societies, plus tons of references to others that I am unable to pick out. I'd never experienced fantasy that's not flavored with medieval European monarchies before Avatar. I'm lazy and finding it is hard for someone like me, who is way more likely to stumble across as many problematic things as possible, love them, then discover how skeevy they actually are because I'm culturally illiterate (not a great reason, but an honest one). Avatar was a first for me and what a first it was. It's proof that non-white stories can be told well and be successful within the white media ocean we're up to our necks in. It's infinitely re-watchable and full of fun and joy and drama and political intrigue without ever recognizing that it's one of the few representations of non-white culture in the media landscape it inhabits. It doesn't explain itself; it just is. Ana and Jodie reviewed the first season in January and I sincerely hope they continue with the remainder of the series so then we can all watch Korra together and squee about it.

My problems with Eon began immediately. Part of the reason I loved Avatar was the way the Asian-inspired cultures were woven into the world-building and narrative. Things were explained, but in very natural way that spoke to the excellent story-telling Avatar episodes boasted. Although Avatar was created by two white men, it's extremely clear that they took pains to be respectful, thoughtful and subtle in how the narrative and the world unfolded. Unfortunately, Eon does the exact opposite. There's no discovery of the world. Eon spends the first two hundred pages in constant informational dumps that made me feel more and more uncomfortable. I don't claim to be knowledgeable about the East — my university had a gaping hole where those classes should have been. The farthest they went was Afghanistan in their course offerings, so most of what I do know is a cultural diffusion, a collection of stereotypes and shorthand that is no doubt wrong, incomplete and definitely offensive. I don't want to damn the book for not being Avatar because the mediums are different and thus, the experiences are going to be vastly different, but I didn't want China 101 to replace it. That's what the book felt like until midway through when it finally eased off to only crop up a few times every chapter; someone explaining a culture to me instead of telling a story. Instead of building these things into the narrative, it often feels as if Eon is explaining them, when this is the world in which he lives. I discussed this with samjohnsson, who asked me, "does the cultural flavor help with the immersion, or hinder."

The world-building, the very thing so many found exciting and interesting, kept me from investing in this book and tossed me constantly from the story. I could never dive in because it felt so much like "white person writes fantasy based on China! Look! ~Energy dragons~!" There was no immersion for me at all. I kept stumbling over commentary where it felt like Eon was talking to himself to explain the world he lived in, on and on throughout the story that yanked me immediately out. There was no discovering this world, this culture. It's going to be delivered to you in as many information dumps as possible under the guise of "explaining" things that it seems like someone who had spent their entire lives in a culture would already know and the reader could pick up on without being treated like they're dense. There has to be some element of explanation for a fantasy culture but surely there's a better way to integrate the explanations with the plot. I just find it boggling that although Eon studied so hard, and that his (abusive) master took so many risks, that he would still need things explained to him so thoroughly even up until the end of the book. The borrowed cultures are always being commented on, always aware of their difference and foreign nature to people who are likely reading the book. Thus, the comparison to Avatar which was never self-conscious about its story, tone, or world building. Eon is very clearly aware of itself and then fact that its readers are not as familiar with the specific culture beyond shorthand of the Chinese Zodiac and a general idea about how ancient Chinese and Japanese cultures worked. It doesn't feel genuine. The story would have been stronger if it had started at a different point, as well, revealed all the secrets Eon was keeping in a different way, and trusted the reader to pick up the vagaries of the culture as the story unfolded.

Of course, the book did attempt some interesting things with gender. Eon struggles with his identification throughout the novel, making it fairly obvious why the Mirror Dragon is unavailable. How do you live in a world in which your personal identity is a constant struggle, even beyond trying to hide it? Eon attempts to suppress Eona all through the story, denying every aspect of Eona's actuality. Because I am so uneducated on these types of issues I really have little right to comment on them at length, because I left the book more confused than anything else at the way gender binary is both subverted but then re-enforced. I couldn't figure out if the book was attempting to show that there was no reason for Eon to choose between the two identities because both were a part of him and important. There was also Lady Dela, a person with two spirits, who seemed to deal with the pressure of being physically male but spiritually a woman in a way that was extremely well done and nonjudgmental, to show Eon there is, as Ryko says at one point about the sexual proclivities of eunuchs, more than one way to skin a cat. I am more familiar with Native America versions of this, but I found it very ambitious and really liked her character. She was a mentor, smart, loyal, helpful, she doesn't die horribly, and she creates interesting discussion about gender that didn't feel like I was being bashed over the head with a lecture. It did, at one point, come down to a "I knew because I didn't like traditional boy things!" which I find hard to unpack for my own purposes. I have no clue how right/wrong a portrayal like that is — I am woefully undereducated about these issues. Of course, at times she suffered as a mouthpiece for the aforementioned "Let's Learn About China!" problem, as did the other character I liked, Ryko, a eunuch guarding Lady Dela at court, who was very obviously in love with Dela. I would definitely read a book about them on adventures, that's for sure. >.>

Now we come to the end, full of spoilers!

Of course, all the conversations about gender couldn't save the end of this book for me, as it included: a spiritual invasion, followed by a threat of rape, followed by the ultimate redemption of the villain's character by the main character after another attempted rape that infuses her with FEELINGS toward the villain. I have opinions about rape as a tool to make a villain REALLY EVIL NO SRSLY THEY'RE SUPER BAD, and they are all negative. I have thoughts about forgiveness and mercy as framed as appropriate in a narrative where mercy is not a guarantee. I'm not Ana or Jodie who would probably be able to write up a thoughtful paragraph about why the whole final culmination to the book sucked all the enjoyment out of it for me, but I can hobble my way through it and hope I make sense.

After Eon has had his mind and body invaded by Ido, after Ido has forced himself on Eon physically twice, after he's murdered and attacked people close to Eon, after he's attempted to steal Eon's power, Eon finally defeats him by claiming his true power, calling the Mirror Dragon and opening Ido's heart point. The following things happen.

"Kill him," he said hoarsely. "Kill him. While you've got the chance."

Lady Dela emerged from behind a pile of tumbled bales and struggled upright, one of my swords in a wavering grip. Her face was caked with dirt and streaks of blood. She lifted the weapon, the effort making her sway. "I'll do it."

"No!" The words burst out from somewhere deep in me. Somewhere newly forged. "We can't."

"Why not?" Ryko demanded.

I bit my lip, knowing my reasons would mean nothing to a man who had just been tortured. I hardly understood them myself. Part of me still felt the touch of Ido's hands on me and wanted him to suffer and die, but a bigger part—a golden part—wanted to stop his pain. In forcing compassion onto Ido, I had somehow opened my own heart to him.

This also occurs:

You forced this new generosity on me, so don't waste it," he said harshly. "Get out of here."

He was right. I should go—let him make his grand gesture of atonement—and get myself and my friends to safety. I owned him nothing. But even as I backed further into the hole, something stopped me. I could not leave him to face Sethon. My power had ripped his strength away; I had made him vulnerable. I doubted he even had enough stamina left to connect with his dragon.

I leaned out of the hole again.

"You could come with us." Even as I said the words, I knew they were a mistake. I did not want him near me; I could already feel the rage that was forcing its way through my compassion. A sharp, deadly female rage that was not forgiving or pitying or merciful.

....yeah.

And of course, Eon begins this book with an injured hip, the back story of which disturbed the hell out of me. By the end of the story, the hip, the disability:

"No," I said. "My hip is healed!" I ran my hand down the smooth line of my thigh again.

"Healed? By your dragon power?"

I nodded, meeting her wonder. I was free. No longer a cripple. No longer untouchable. I was strong and powerful.

Just going to leave that there.

This book attempts a lot of things: a different kind of fantasy, commentary on gender, with a disabled character which could have been awesome, but just FYI, having a disability means you're not "free" and also, once you get rid of it with ~magic~ you can be strong and powerful, because damn, you know how disabilities render those with them weak and powerless!

I would also like to quit coming across the narrative of the rape victim who is compelled to forgive her rapist by forces she can't control, whether they be external or ~magical~ (or in other words, cultural pressures that encourage women not to report, to "let it go", because "he didn't mean it" and "he's better now"). Why, exactly, should women be redeeming and forgiving these men that abuse them? Why is it framed in such a way to make the lack of reaching out and no feeling of sympathy an immediate negative? I don't understand this; it's possible I need to read more about rape and the power dynamics of rape to understand why this seems so acceptable. Eona didn't have to show the villain any mercy at all at that point after her initial revenge to open himself up to his deeds in order to remain a kind person. She didn't have to help him avoid the consequences of his actions in order to remain a kind person. She didn't have to ask him to run away with her, moments after he had ripped her clothes off in a dark alley, in order to stay a kind person, while inside she was miserable that she was even asking. I resent that the book framed her choices the way it did. If the awkward world building that made me feel uncomfortable hadn't ruined this book for me, this would have done it.

Eon didn't work out for me, but I am happy to see more books dealing with gender commentary and fantasy drawn from different cultures. I hope there will be more in the future, now that this series has proven so popular. But maybe next time we could get a story like this minus the terrible rape and erasure of disabled character parts.

That would be awesome.

Other reviews:
Fantasy Cafe, Stella Matutina, Calico Reaction, Tempting Persephone, yours?

Comments

[bookgazing]

I have a feeling that the redeeming a rapist idea comes from blanket ideas about how forgiveness is the ultimate way to heal the world. I find that idea sketchy to say the least and silencing as well, because you reach a point where to express hurt is to be seen to be bitter and incapable of forgiveness. Even when people do manage geniune forgiveness for people who have committed terrible crimes against them, I get really weird about seeing people outside of the situation celebrate their ability to forgive, with or without receiving any kind of appropriate penance from the perpetrator. Like, it's a personal decision to forgive, or not to forgive when you've been hurt and I don't think it's anyone else's business to validate or invalidate that decision based on some vague ideas about morals.

That makes me sound really hardline probably, so I should probably point out that when I talk about appropriate penance I'm not talking about offenders receiving equivalent punishment to the crime they commit (the death penalty is so awful for one). But it doesn't have to be an eye for an eye style justice, or total, free forgiveness (even after an offender has served in a way that's designed to make ammends). We are all grown ups and there is always an in between.

*random rant endeth*

[renay]

because you reach a point where to express hurt is to be seen to be bitter and incapable of forgiveness.

It pits the feelings of the abuser above the feelings of the abused for me. Without opening up an entire can of worms about abuse, there have been people in my life who have hurt me who I will never forgive and have been hassled to do so for over the years by well-meaning friends and parents. I don't care how they're feeling. It's not relevant, because they made the choices they made. The end of this book gave Eona access to feelings and knowledge of her abuser with a magic our world doesn't possess, and took it in the same path our culture forces on people who've been abused: forgive, but don't forget. How about we give the choice to the people, cultural narrative? Maybe some of us don't believe forgiveness is deserved, necessary to move on, or makes us inherently bitter creatures.

How do you write a book with magic and entrench the same tired ideals? Sloppy.

[nymeth]

*nods in agreement with Jodie above* I already sent you a long rambling e-mail about this, so you know how I feel, but it's the fact that this kind of attitude can be extremely silencing is SUCH an important thing to point out. Obviously I also don't believe in an eye for an eye approaches to justice, but I DO believe in a rape survivor's right to a deep anger that won't abate over time. This feeling is completely legitimate and does not call their value as a human being, or even their kindness, into question.

[renay]

To make the comparison to Avatar again (full of spoilers), Zuko lost his ability to firebend when he was so focused on using his anger to do so. I had a lot of criticisms about that storyline, because he had a right to be angry (so did Azula, and her anger was presented as an uncontrollable madness) but it was a kid's show, whatever, nuance. I don't understand why anger is so often portrayed as a negative emotion that drags you down, makes you less effective as a person. There's nothing wrong with being angry when it's appropriate.

AVATAR SPOILERS Jodie avert your eyes

[nymeth]

That's such a good point. I had a lot of feelings about what happened to Azula in the end, but I didn't make the connection in Zuko's case - probably because I spent the whole of the Dancing Dragons episode going WHEEE AANG AND ZUKO HANGING OUT THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER AND NOW THEY'RE DANCING TOGETHER AND DID YOU SEE HOW ZUKO JUST SMILED WHEN AANG SAID HE WAS PRETTY SMART HALP I'M GOING TO EXPLOOOOODE HERE :P

So yeah, I read it more in terms of Zuko finding out that anger was not the only possible source of power, but there's definitely a hierarchy there with anger being framed as inferior to other emotions. I can think of very few stories that don't do that in some way or another.

[myfriendamy]

This is interesting because I didn't really think of it as saying Zuko didn't have a right to be angry, but that he had abused anger in order to firebend. I think there are a lot of times in the series when the characters are angry and it's treated quite respectfully, they aren't made out to be wrong for their anger at all. So I guess I felt like there was a wide range of anger as an emotion represented? And anger can be dangerous, even if it's righteous. It's a powerful emotion, like fire is a powerful element, and should be respected?

I don't understand why anger is so often portrayed as a negative emotion that drags you down

Speaking mostly for myself, but...I don't like to feel angry. It's uncomfortable for me. So I think that's where part of the negative portrayal comes from. But I do think that a lot of people that have legitimate reasons to be angry get dismissed which is wrong. I don't know this is a complicated subject.