59 pages • 1 hour read
Tomi AdeyemiChildren of Blood and Bone
Fiction | Novel | YA | Published in 2018A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Themes
Cycles of Violence
The continent of Orїsha exists in a near-constant state of violence that motivated by racial discrimination and the desire for power, and the plot of the novel is driven by violence that occurs before the text begins. Adeyemi uses the intergenerational effects of systemic inequality and the brutality of those who wield political power to explore the cyclical nature of violence, and how discrimination and oppression perpetuate this cycle.
Before the events of the novel, maji and non-magical people existed in a state of tension and uncertainty, which was exacerbated by an attempted transition of the maji into the ruling class. When this resulted in the death of Saran’s family and he stepped into the kingship, Saran used violence to kill all the proficient magic users and left their children in states of fear and distrust. This genocide began a cycle of hurt and oppression that continues through the beginning of the novel. The divîners are subjected to harsh taxes, physical and verbal abuse, and segregation. Adeyemi emphasizes the fraught nature of divîner-non-magic relations by introducing the reader to Zélie as she learns self-defense. Immediately, Zélie experiences physical harm at the hands of a tax-collecting soldier who “slams [her] to the ground facedown, knocking the breath from [her] throat” (11). Divîners are subjected to sexual violence as well. Zélie is threatened with sexual violence twice within the first few chapters of the book, noting that even the laws preventing magic and non-magic individuals from associating “doesn’t keep the guards from pawing at us like animals” (51). Divîners are even forced to fight to the death when they are unable to pay high taxes, used as entertainment for the masses.
Adeyemi explores how experiencing violent oppression may force her characters to resort to violence themselves. Zélie and her companions often use violence both to defend themselves, and to pursue eventual peace. They kill many participants in the aquatic mock-battles to access the sunstone, and Zélie joins Inan in attacking the divîner refugees when Amari and Tzain have been taken captive. Zélie, having experienced violence herself, is still caught off-guard when she witnesses the true capabilities of the maji. She is stunned by their capacity for harm and this shifts her worldview, making her question whether or not it would be wise to restore magic to the world; she desires true peace, but is unsure of how to achieve it without leaving the world vulnerable to those who have no moral qualms about resorting to violence.
In this time of doubt, Zélie meets divîners who work together and use violence as a last resort, which eventually restores her faith in her mission. This is not before she is subjected to torture, a new form of violence, that strips her of her magical abilities and creates an unmendable rift between her and Inan. At the novel’s close, it is violence against someone completely uninvolved in Zélie’s quest–Baba–that instigates the final climactic moment. Two of the novel’s main characters die, only for one to be resurrected as she discovers peace. Zélie’s achievement of the afterlife, paired with her return to the world of the living, gives her a moment of rest that she had been searching for throughout the novel. The assurances from her mother that those she loves will know peace gives Zélie, and the reader, hope that the violence has been interrupted and there will be a smooth transition of power.
In presenting these different types of violence, Adeyemi makes the argument that violence never leaves the victim or the perpetrator unchanged. Adeyemi posits that while violence may occasionally be necessary for self-defense or the enactment of change, it must be carefully considered only after all other resources have been exhausted. Those in the novel who inflict violence indiscriminately, such as Saran, are replaced by those whose main intention has been to provide relief to the subjugated.
Duty to Others Versus Duty to Self
Duty plays an important role in the novel, serving as both an inspiration and obstacle for the characters. Adeyemi juxtaposes duty to others and duty to self, comparing the two and exploring how one may often masquerade as the other. There is not an assessment whether performing one’s duty to others is more or less important than performing one’s duty to oneself. Instead, Adeyemi showcases characters in varying stages of clarity, highlighting the importance of self-reflection and honesty in service.
Each of the point-of-view characters of the novel has a strong sense of duty. Zélie’s primary goal is to restore magic to the nation, enabling a divîner awakening and ending the decade of discrimination and abuse that her people have experienced. This duty serves both the broader continent and herself. By restoring magic, she disrupts the institutions that have caused her people to be victimized. She enables her peers to reach their true potential and enacts a broad cultural shift. This shift is seen on a much smaller scale at the divîner refugee camp, when the community throws a celebration in honor of the gods. This celebration is intrinsically tied to magic, as part of it involves a performance of divîner history. Zélie’s journey to restore magic also serves a sense of internal duty. By restoring magic, she gains the ability to protect herself and her family. She claims her birthright of Reaper magic and has full autonomy over herself.
At the beginning of the novel, Amari’s sense of duty is focused on protecting herself and honoring the memory of her best friend, Binta. After Binta’s death, Amari chooses her duty to her friend’s memory over her duty to her family, stealing the ancient scroll with the goal of helping divîners everywhere, as she could not help Binta. Amari’s sense of duty expands as the novel progresses, and she realizes her place in the broader political dynamic of Orϊsha, and begins to doubt whether anyone owes allegiance to a government that oppresses and harms them. Amari determines that the only way to attain lasting peace is through a leader who respects both the magical and non-magical populations. Unlike her brother Inan, Amari understands that fulfilling her duty to Orϊsha as princess means prioritizing the needs of everyone, not merely maintaining the power of the existing ruling class. By killing Saran she avenges Binta, she also takes a step toward a more equitable and sustainable future. By the end of the novel, Amari dedicates herself to serving the whole country, not just one part of the population.
Saran’s sense of duty is heavily skewed by his past experiences, and while he claims to serve only his country, in reality he is serving himself. He forces his children into traumatic situations, claiming that they must be strong so that they can better serve Orїsha. His version of serving the country is rooted in his desire to suppress the divîners because of his own trauma, and his desire to maintain power and control. Following the death of his father, first wife, and older children, his view of magic became centered around its worst possible outcomes, and he conflates the actions of individual magi with the entire magi population. This perspective roots him in a paranoia so intense that his hatred of magic warps into the belief that by oppressing magic, he keeps the country safe. Saran convinces himself that his own desires are desires for the kingdom, and in doing so becomes cemented in his own ideology, drawing his son, Inan, into his fear-based logic as well. Like Zélie, Inan struggles to reconcile his own desires and identity with his sense of who others expect him to be and how they think he should behave—especially his father. Through Inan’s betrayal of self and demise at the end of the novel, Adeyemi suggests that total subjugation of the self to external pressures can have devastating consequences beyond personal disappointment. By contrast, both Zélie and Amari find ways to integrate their individual identities into their notion of duty to others, empowering them to be compassionate rather than dogmatic.
The Lasting Impact of Trauma
Children of Blood and Bone features emotional, mental, and physical trauma in both the protagonists and antagonists. The traumatic experiences of the characters actively influence their worldviews and choices, showing how trauma can have reverberating effects throughout a person’s life. One of the most influential traumas of the novel stems from the death of Saran’s family, caused at the hands of a rogue maji. It is the trauma of this loss that sends him into violent paranoia, extending his traumatic experience to others. He forces the children of his second marriage to fight with real swords and orders the genocide of the adult maji population. His own cold aloofness is partly a response to the losses he has survived and his insistence that he will never again be a part of something weak. By not taking steps to heal from his traumatic loss and grief, Saran becomes a perpetrator of the same violence that caused him to suffer.
Amari and Inan share the childhood trauma of being forced to fight one another. Adeyemi explores how both perpetrator and victim may be traumatized in this instance: Amari both fears and loves her brother, and Inan feels profound guilt for what he did to Amari, reflecting often on the pain he caused her. Amari maintains some loyalty to Inan, understanding that his attack was not his fault, but an outsider’s perspective reminds the reader of how deeply traumatic the event must have been. Zélie reflects after Amari confesses the attack, thinking “All this time I thought those of noble blood were safe. I never imagined what cruelty the monarchy could inflict on their own” (125). Here, Adeyemi explores how oppressive, exploitative systems harm even those who seem to benefit from inequality. Inan’s guilt is a part of what forces him to maintain loyalty to his father and the country. To turn his back on the King and kingdom would be to admit that what he did to his sister served no purpose. He is trapped in his guilt and the pain he has caused, unable to move on. Amari uses her past pain to strengthen herself for the future, taking courage from her friends and her memories. As she faces her father in final battle, she reflects: “Now, as I lift my blade to his rage-fueled eyes, I see Mother and Tzain. I see my dear Binta. I find everyone who has ever tried to fight back, every innocent soul cut down by his blade” (512). She uses memory and love to overcome her past connections to her father and possesses the strength to begin to heal, committing to a new world.
Zélie experiences several new traumas over the course of the novel, in addition to the stressors she carries from her childhood. On the night her mother was murdered, her father was beaten nearly to death and Zélie saw her mother’s body after the lynching. Then, Zélie spends the next decade of her life being discriminated against because of her magical heritage, suffering physical, mental, emotional, and sexual harm at the hands of the king’s guards. She emphasizes as much to Inan as they begin to collaborate, telling him, “Your people, your guards–they’re nothing more than killers, rapists, and thieves. The only difference between them and criminals is the uniforms they wear” (314). The appearance of Zélie’s magic gives her a slight reprieve from the abuse, granting her a way to protect herself. When she is captured by Saran’s men and put in majacite chains, her power is stripped from her and she is tortured for information. This takes a toll on both her physical and mental state, blocking her magic because of the suffering she has experienced. Through this dynamic, Adeyemi posits that trauma can damage a person’s sense of self, exacerbating the initial harm and leading to long-term consequences.
Zélie’s traumatic experiences while imprisoned lead to an explicit conversation about trauma and healing with Roёn, who tells her, “If you can’t do this, I need to know […] This isn’t about you. I couldn’t speak for weeks after I got my scars. I certainly couldn’t fight” (479). This is the first time that someone asks Zélie if she is prepared to face her trauma, rather than assuming whether she is or is not capable. Roёn normalizes the sensations associated with trauma by discussing his own background, providing an important script for such difficult conversations. Ultimately, Zélie transforms her trauma into power, and in doing so provides magic to the rest of the country. This alleviates the trauma of countless divîners, opening the door to healing.
