Junk Drawer
For all those little papers scattered across your desk
Junk DrawerFor all those little papers scattered across your desk
My thoughts on Margaret Killjoy’s Sapling Cage.
Reading Sapling Cage took me back to reading fantasy as a preteen. Simply written for a younger audience, it’s a page-turner for (nominally) grown adults, too. Killjoy hooked me in to a world in the grips of dynamic power struggles without complex dialogue, elaborate descriptions, or impossible backdrops. In fact, except for the violence and a certain caldera, it all feels rather mundane. This leaves room for the excitement of the coming of age tale, the making of friends, the fear of discovery.
Each of these has power. A witch must use all three.
Indeed, our main character Lorel observes and experiences violence for what it is: hard, traumatic, gory, mournful. Yet she also experiences other powerful actions: tentative allies unite against a threat; witches defend and enfold someone who is other; a knight speaks for the weak.
Even on the very beginning of a journey into magic, we all learn something about finding our power.
I witnessed through Killjoy’s narrative a story of complexity: growing up as a boy while being a girl. The main character struggles to figure out what to make of her body—would it be easier if it matched the expectations of others? Would such a change make her less attractive to a crush? Is this not her body, imperfect as it is? Is it ok not to like her body?
Moreover, she navigates fear and uncertainty: the fear of being found out, which might be deadly. The uncertainty of who she can trust. Simultaneously her heart swells with joy each time she is “girl” or “she.” Like Lorel’s friends (and even rivals), we can all listen, learn, and love.
Killjoy reminds me that these questions—Lorel’s questions—are worth asking of ourselves, and that we all experience their answers differently.
I highly recommend Sapling Cage (and my thanks to Cory Doctorow, whose recommendation put it on my reading list).