49 pages • 1 hour read
Marie LuA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
As June and Day join the rebellion and become separated on opposing sides for a mission, they must decide whether to trust the Patriots over the Republic and if they can trust each other. Day grew up poor in the slums of LA among the communities the Republic never cared about or supported. June was raised lavishly in a high-rise by a well-respected and extremely wealthy family, earning her immediate status and a bright career path from a young age. Their different upbringings fostered certain beliefs and expectations regarding trust.
When June first shows hesitation to join the Patriots, who she believes will not help them, Day’s reaction implies he thinks she’s “hesitating because [she] do[esn’t] trust the Patriots. That, deep down, [she’s] still June Impairs, the Republic’s most celebrated prodigy… that [she’s] still loyal to this country” (6-7). The system has never helped Day, which predisposes him to jumping at the chance to join the Patriots, who promise a better life for citizens like Day. He lost hope long ago in the Republic’s redemption and instead yearns to experience the utopian society his father always believed the Colonies would be. June, however, has only recently learned the scope of the government’s evils and has been blindly loyal to the Republic her entire life.
While this fact inspires Tess’s and the other Patriots’ distrust of June, along with the occasional doubt from Day in June’s loyalties, it also allows June to view the Patriots with a more critical eye. She does not share the same desperation and idealism as Day and notices suspicious reasonings and behavior where Day does not. As soon as their first meeting with the Patriots, June does not trust Razor because she sees a lack of logic in his given circumstances; she does not “understand how he can afford to hide out in such nice quarters” (30) and go unnoticed by the Republic. The continued battle of whether to trust or distrust the Patriots continues in Chapter 8 when it is Day who suspects a lack of truth and logic, as he realizes how the “short rotation of morale-boosting Patriot propaganda” in one of their bunkers “reminds [him] a little too much of the Republic’s ads” (114). By relating the actions of the Patriots to that of the Republic, which Day distrusts more than anything, the observation further inspires his internal conflict.
As June is undercover in the Republic with Anden, she cannot decide who to trust. Although she agreed to help the Patriots, Anden’s progressive aspirations confuse her. When he “doesn’t seem to be […] the man the Patriots described,” she wonders if he’s telling the truth and why the Patriots want him dead (142). Meanwhile, as the Patriots keep tabs on June through hacked security cameras, her proximity to Anden causes Day to doubt the strength of her loyalty—and her love for him.
Eventually, June becomes suspicious enough of Razor’s intentions to warn Day against following through with Anden’s assassination. The decision presents Day with an extremely difficult choice; he must decide whether to trust June or the Patriots, in whom his friend Tess believes wholeheartedly. Even once he decides to trust June, Day’s doubt in trusting others does not end; Day suspects Kaede in following them to the Colonies, demands they return to the Republic, and is hesitant to believe the Elector’s promises to release Eden and pardon Day.
Compromise is a normal part of any relationship, and June and Day make their fair share of compromises. Compromises represent opportunities for character growth in Prodigy as June, Day, and Kaede demonstrate uncharacteristic decisions and behaviors for their loved ones that often go beyond their moral boundaries or against their established traits.
June notes early on the ways in which Day serves others; he “go[es] out of [his] way to avoid hurting people” (34). He exhibits this behavior in Legend, when throughout several years of crimes, he never once takes a life. Even when Day is blamed for Metias’s death, Day’s morals convince June that Day is not the culprit. The events in Prodigy, however, follow the brutal murders of Day’s family at the hands of the Republic. As a result, he accepts the assassination plot against Anden and in fact agrees to serve as the assassin. According to June, his compassion has turned “cold, harsher than usual” (34) and the ironclad morality that proved him innocent of Metias’s murder in her eyes in the first installment of the series is dismantled by the hatred and grief clouding his judgment. His negative feelings and violent thoughts are heightened when he finds a young boy on a Republic train who reminds him of Eden. He is forced to escape the guards before he can set the boy free, and has a parting thought regarding Anden, whom he blames for the boy’s fate:
I hate you. I hate you with everything I’ve got, and I swear I’m going to put a bullet in you the first chance I get. For the first time since I joined the Patriots, I actually find myself excited for the assassination. I’m going to do everything to make sure the Republic can never touch my brother again (196).
Compared to his narrative voice in the first installment, the moral foundation of Day’s character is compromised by his hatred of the Republic and his desire for vengeance against those who hurt his loved ones.
June compromises throughout Prodigy to prove her love for Day and make up for the harm she has caused him and his family. She joins the Patriots even when she does not agree with their goals, and when she does, she does not blindly trust Razor’s reasonings or intentions. The decisions she makes lead her back to the Republic as an undercover spy, where she is faced with whether to accept or reject a further compromise: the active participation in Anden’s assassination. When June decides not to compromise her morals, she signals Day to stop the assassination. Though it goes against everything he has convinced himself he wants—revenge and ending the Republic once and for all—Day decides “[he’s] going to trust her” because “if [he] refused, [he]’d be breaking ties with her forever” (235), and he cannot live with that. His compromise saves him from committing a moral wrong while also strengthening his relationship with June.
Their relationship experiences significant turmoil throughout Prodigy, and ironically for Day, their struggles with compromise work to make them equal in terms of loss and pain; in the end, Day realizes that “whatever [he] lost, June has lost equally” (260). Each one’s concessions help to promote the chance to meet in the middle.
The privileges of wealth cause many issues in Prodigy; not only does wealth connect to the Republic’s and Colonies’ efforts to control citizens’ resources and their way of life, but it also establishes a significant barrier for Day and June to overcome in their relationship. June grew up in a lavish high-rise, had wealthy parents and more money than she knew what to do with, and never wanted anything; her successful future was set. Day, by contrast, grew up in the slums, where he went hungry to make sure his siblings had enough to eat when their mother could not provide enough.
With the threat of death behind them at the start of the story, June and Day finally have time to learn more about one another and consider their relationship. On the journey to Las Vegas, June refuses fried dough due to taste preference. Day’s reaction causes her to worry about coming off like a “poor little rich girl, with her posh manners” who “can afford to dislike food” (4). She scolds herself for the comment and vows to tread more carefully around him. This incident signifies June’s awareness of their class differences and wealth disparity’s impact on personalities, relationships, and perspective on life.
On the run and without access to her family money, June misses the luxury of her old life. For the first time in her life, she is forced to face how citizens like Day live. June knows the Patriots only helped Day escape execution because June “paid Kaede 200,000 Republic notes,” and “even then, it had taken some persuasion” before they helped (6). Without her wealth, they can no longer pay for the help they need in reuniting with Tess, finding Eden, or treating Day’s injured leg. June begins to realize how much money means in the world, especially when people will not help them out of the kindness alone. When June receives a makeover at the Capital, she cannot fully enjoy the extravagance as she might have before because she understands the privilege is reserved for only those like her; she “recall[s] the poor people gathered at the train station in their threadbare clothes” (127). Her time away from the wealthy sectors spent with Day, who embodies the struggles of those from the slums, prompts a newfound disgust June feels for the opulent lifestyles of her former class.
Day experiences a similar culture shock when he joins the Patriots, who have generous funding from their allies. When a disguise allows him to wear colored contacts, Day considers them “a luxury in themselves—rich trots use them to change their eye color—for fun. They would’ve come in handy for [him] on the streets if [he]’d had access to them” (69). He more clearly sees the amount of privilege that June experienced her entire life—privilege she has been blind to. Wealth becomes his largest insecurity in his relationship with June; he can never be the man to her that Anden would be and cannot afford to give her more than a paper clip ring as a symbol of his love. June’s initial ignorance of the impact money has is insulting to Day, especially when she says that money means nothing. He recalls his upbringing, “the times [his family] needed more, of everything that could’ve been better with more” (255). Because June has never suffered at the hands of the Republic like he has, Day struggles to come to terms with her inability to fully turn against it, especially when Anden proves amenable to change.
By Marie Lu