The Obelisk Gate – N.K. Jemisin

Note: As the second book of a trilogy, this post will include some mention of the first book, The Fifth Season, including spoilers in a general sense.

The Season initiated by “The Rifting” when the earth split apart and consumed Yumenes and the imperial Fulcrum is well and truly underway. Everything changes in a Season and the mandate now is simple: survive.

Like it’s predecessor, The Obelisk Gate unfolds between multiple story lines. In one, it picks up with the story of Essun in the comm of Castrima, an underground relic of a “deadciv” with mechanical systems that come alive in the presence of Orogenes. Here there is a question of survival. First there is the social experiment of a comm that includes both the outcast orogenes and “Stills” (people without orogeny) that is mostly held together by the headman Ykka, herself an orogene, but balanced precariously with the presence of Stone Eaters who have their own agendas. Alabaster, turning into stone after inciting a cataclysm, is also in Castrima, both reminding Essun of her previous life and demanding that she learn—in order that she finish what he started. But there is another threat to Castrima: an army from the city of Rennanis is approaching, equipped with guardians and guided by a Stone Eater of its own. Despite Castrima’s subterranean nature, this army nevertheless seems to be honing in.

The second storyline follows Jija and Nassun, Essun’s estranged husband and daughter. Jija wants his little girl back, to have her “cured” of orogeny, so he take her south to a place called “Found Moon,” run by three renegade Guardians, including Schaffa, the one who had collected Essun when she was still known as Damaya. Much to Jija’s chagrin, the training she receives only heightens her powers beyond rather than curing it. In time, Nassun (who believes her mother didn’t love her) comes to realize that her father is not capable of loving her unconditionally. His condition is her orogeny—in other words, who she is. Nassun turns instead to Schaffa who loves her and, unbeknownst to Nassun, her mother.

Unlike in The Fifth Season, these two storylines remain distinct in The Obelisk Gate, setting the stage for a potential intersection again in the trilogy’s final volume.

The Obelisk Gate reveals the first big development in the trilogy when it comes to the obelisks, large stone satellites that float in the sky above the world as relics of a long-lost civilization. These…things…pulse with energy that can be tapped into by particularly skilled Orogenes. This idea was introduced in The Fifth Season, but Alabaster reveals to Essun what he learned about their origins in the course their lessons. The obelisks were part of a network of living magic that somehow set the moon from its orbit. Alabaster wants Essun to transcend her Fulcrum training and grasp living magic so that she can access the Obelisk Gate and catch the moon.

Despite suffering a bit from middle trilogy syndrome where it neither introduces something new and exciting nor concludes something major, The Obelisk Gate is a fantastic novel and a worthy Hugo Award winner. Jemisin walks a fine line. She both manages to build upon the impressive scale of the world and is clearly working from the same plot and template in terms of the narrator (her Stone Eater, Hoa), while also jettisoning two thirds of the point of view characters such that the book feels different. I suspect that the conclusion to the series is going to play an outsized role in my final impression of this book because the series-long arc investigating the relationship between mother and daughter begins to come to the fore by the latter parts of The Obelisk Gate.

Since I bought the second and third book in this trilogy at the same time, I put The Obelisk Gate down and picked up The Stone Sky….and have almost finished reading it. Largely for this reason I am holding back on discussion of some of the information that is carefully doled out and will probably write a spoiler-ific post once I have finished the series. For now, I will say the same thing I said about the first book: I cannot recommend this series highly enough.