logo

40 pages 1 hour read

Leigh Bardugo

Ruin and Rising

Fiction | Novel | YA | Published in 2014

A 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

Trust as a Way of Overcoming Obstacles

One of Alina’s main traits is that she has trouble trusting others and feeling as though she belongs. Bardugo makes this quality central to Alina’s story arc from the beginning of the series when Alina is a lowly, isolated orphan from rural Ravka. Except for Mal, Alina grew up without anyone to trust, confide in, or reassure her that she was loved and valued. As the series progresses, some of Alina’s most difficult decisions are whether to trust other characters. Even her faith in Mal, normally unshakeable, wavers at the beginning of Ruin and Rising when he can’t confide in her about the plan to help her get her power back. The Darkling exploits this desire for love, belonging, and acceptance in his relationship with Alina, constantly framing the two of them as possessing a special bond of similarity and understanding that no one else can achieve.

One of the Darkling’s emotional motivations is his own deep fear of being alone, a fear that he experiences when he discovers that Alina has lost her power: “I saw the realization strike him. He was truly alone. And he always would be” (382). In addition to wielding her as a weapon, the Darkling wants to be with her because he has been set apart from other Grisha during his life through his extraordinary power. His mother, Baghra, scarred from her childhood being oppressed as a Grisha, also encourages him to think of himself as isolated and apart from others. Baghra notes:

[E]ven our own kind shunned us, feared the strangeness of our power. […] I never wanted him to feel the way I had as a child. […] So I taught him that he had no equal, that he was destined to bow to no man. I wanted him to be hard, to be strong. I taught him the lesson my mother and father taught me: to rely on no one. That love—fragile and fickle and raw—was nothing compared to power. He was a brilliant boy. He learned too well (223-24).

Thus, despite their similar emotional needs, the Darkling and Alina have different perspectives on cooperation and trust. The Darkling operates from a position of isolation, domination, manipulation, and power, while Alina fears rejection, misunderstanding, and isolation, but overcomes them to trust and love other people.

One of the hallmarks of the aftermath of the battle is Bardugo’s emphasis on trust, cooperation, and the common good. When the soldiers realize they can summon light and have the power to destroy the Fold, they “[f]ormed a line, bringing the beams of light together” (385) rather than trying to work independently. The transfer of Alina’s power to multitudes of ordinary people also reinforces the ideas of trust and reciprocity rather than a centralized figure of power. Nikolai’s identity as a shrewd advocate of mutually trusting relationships is reflected in his statement that “Power is alliance” (406), a quality that separates him from the Darkling in the world’s moral universe. Additionally, Bardugo portrays the effort to overthrow the Darkling as profoundly influenced by Alina’s willingness to listen to and trust her friends, especially David as she accepts his idea of using invisibility to protect the Grisha during the battle.

Self-Sacrifice Versus the Desire for Domination

Just as Alina and her companions succeed when they trust and rely on one another, the attitudes of various characters about sacrifice and domination reveal their ultimate fates in the story. Mal dies, even though he desperately wants to live and be with Alina, as the following exchange makes clear: “‘Don’t tell me this is all happening for a reason […] [o]r that it’s going to be okay. Don’t tell me you’re ready to die.’ […] ‘None of this is happening for a reason. […] And Saints help me, Alina, I want to live forever’” (314). This desire to live makes Mal’s self-sacrifice even more poignant, and his sacrifice heightens the contrast between him and the Darkling, who says, “I have waited hundreds of years for this moment, for your power, for this chance. I have earned it with loss and with struggle. I will have it, Alina. Whatever the cost.” (322). In the Darkling’s case, the “cost” is the lives of the innocent Grisha children, not his own life. To Mal, the “cost” of his own life is not too high to pay so that Alina can achieve the height of her powers and take down the Darkling. This moral separation between the characters, like the one between Nikolai and the Darkling, is apparent.

Mal persists in his intent to sacrifice himself because he sees a larger meaning in the act of his death. He says, “Don’t let it all be for nothing, Alina” (376) and “Save [the Grisha] […] Don’t let me live knowing I might have stopped this” (377). Rather than the simplistic, self-centered viewpoint of both Morozova and his grandson the Darkling, Alina and Mal live by the principles of the larger good. Before she realizes what Mal’s sacrifice has achieved, Alina wonders, “[W]hat was the point of this sacrifice? Had we lived only to be a lesson in the price of greed?” (379-80). She quickly finds, however, that the soldiers have gained her powers and that Ravka will never be the same. Mal has undermined Morozova’s intentions with his bravery and sacrifice, and Alina and Mal’s lowly status have given them an advantage:

The life stolen by Morozova and given to his daughter had reached its end. The life Mal had been born with—fragile, mortal, temporary—was his alone. Loss. This was the price the world had demanded for balance. But Morozova couldn’t have known that the person to unlock the secrets of his amplifiers wouldn’t be some ancient Grisha who had lived a thousand years and grown weary of his power. He couldn’t have known that it would all come down to two orphans from Keramzin (394).

By applying the ancient sorcerer’s power in a way he never could have anticipated—namely, by being willing to put their own lives on the line—Alina and Mal emerge triumphant from their struggle against the Darkling. Like other storytellers, Bardugo uses the figure sacrificial hero who is then resurrected (see, for example, biblical accounts of Jesus of Nazareth’s crucifixion and resurrection, the Harry Potter books, The Lord of the Rings, and The Chronicles of Narnia, although there are many other examples) as a way of exploring themes of sacrifice, selflessness, and reward.

Restoration After Conflict

Ruin and Rising’s position as the last book in Bardugo’s trilogy allows her to portray the importance of rebuilding and restoring both on a personal and communal level after some kind of conflict. After the decades of war and suffering that the world of the novels has experienced, individual characters and communities need revitalization, justice, and restoration. For example, at the end of the book, Nikolai gives Alina the Lantsov emerald, instructing her to use it to “[b]uild something new” (406). It’s implied that Alina uses the emerald to help rebuild the orphanage in Keramzin. However, Alina and Mal even make changes to the way they run their school, marked by warmth and care: “It was not a Duke’s home, full of things that shouldn’t be touched. It was a place for children. The piano in the music room was left uncovered. The larder door was never locked. A lantern was always lit in the dormitories to keep away the dark” (414). When the children venture out on their own, “[T]hey were allowed to choose whether or not to go to the Little Palace, and they were always welcome back at Keramzin” (415). Alina and Mal go beyond what was there before, just as Alina reforms the Grisha army and obtains a pardon for Genya.

Even the ceremonial burning of the bodies of Alina’s double and the Darkling to mark the end of the war serves a cleansing, restorative effect: “This felt right to me, and the people needed to see an end to it” (410). Alina references the benefit of purging and cleansing rituals for individuals and communities. Such rituals help provide closure, mark a loss, and move forward into the future, which is why they are so fitting in the end of the last book of the trilogy. This idea brings new symbolism to Alina’s sense of discomfort and disintegration when the book opens. Her kefta is “a patchwork, sewn together from scraps” (5), and although her summoning seems realistic from far away, “up close it was all loose threads and false shine. Just like me” (5). This unease and lack of restoration and integrity is fitting at the beginning of the book, since restoration can’t happen until the conflict has been resolved—in this case, by the battle in the Fold and the Darkling’s death. The sense of disorder also drives the narrative tension. On the national level, Nikolai restores Ravka by becoming its leader after the turmoil in the previous two books, marking the beginning of an era of hope and collective healing.

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text
blurred text