57 pages • 1 hour read
Naomi NovikA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
From early on, cultural differences between Miryem and the Staryk exacerbate misunderstandings. This is shown in Miryem’s ignorant demand for payment for her services. While she expects a reward for her labor, the Staryk’s culture demands that he give her something worth the lives of his people—his very kingdom. When she succeeds in her mission to change his silver three times, she is frustrated by his refusal to drop the issue. To her, he is being unreasonable, forcing them both into a mutually disliked marriage. In his mind, he is honoring his word and her high magic; not only is he bound by pride but also by the words of his promise already given. When she exclaims that she does not even know his name, she expects him to give it or at least acknowledge the absurdity of a marriage in which spouses do not know one another’s names. Instead, he is deeply offended, which is understandable given the context of the magical power that comes with knowing someone’s name.
Once in the Staryk lands, Miryem expects the worst of her new husband, so that is what she sees, especially through the frame of her own culture and experience. When her servants refuse to answer her questions, she assumes he has ordered them not to out of cruel amusement. Instead, they are only acting in accordance with their culture, trapped between the value Miryem herself has placed on answers and their deference to her status as queen. Even the Staryk king’s anger when Miryem’s parents speak her name can be explained as outrage that they would seek to bind her, given that using a name as such has magical connotations to the Staryk. When Miryem offers to turn her servants’ silver to gold, she is completely unaware that she is offering them the position of bondsmen, both elevating their status and putting their lives—and the lives of their children—at risk. All in all, many disputes between Miryem and her husband could be resolved if they were more informed on each other’s culture. As it stands, these miscommunications affect not only their marriage but also the overarching plot, as it is the life of Flek’s daughter that compels Miryem to succeed in turning all the silver in the storerooms to gold. Without this motivation, she may have died for failing to live up to her word.
Magic is utilized differently by the characters who possess it, leading them to hold different interpretations of it based on their own experiences. To Miryem, magic is a means to an end, a way to get respect and way to leave the Staryk. To Irina, magic is an escape that provides her safe harbor away from her husband. To Mirnatius, magic is power and security. With his “beauty, crown, and power” (286), he is confident that he will be safe from the fates that met his father, brother, and mother. Still, that magic comes at a cost he did not agree to—being at the mercy of the demon Chernobog. To Wanda, Sergey, and Stepon, magic is a mystery that makes life easier. Their mother’s spirit saves and guides them through the Staryk tree’s magic, and the witch’s house shelters and feeds them through its magic. To the Staryk, however, magic is life. The magic of the gold strengthens their winters, protecting their fortress and keeping them alive. When Chernobog comes to power, draining them, it is only the introduction of Miryem’s magic—and its reciprocal effect on the Staryk king’s own—that protects them.
Throughout the story, many characters feel “othered” in one way or another. This “othering” is described well by Wanda when she is welcomed into Miryem’s grandparents’ home. She calls it “a strange feeling,” like suddenly “everyone around you was the same as each other but not like you” (303). She recognizes that Miryem, who repeatedly endures anti-Semitic insults and prejudice from the townspeople, experiences this all the time, and so “maybe it hadn’t been so strange” (303).
As Wanda realizes, this othering is a part of daily life for Miryem and her family, given the history of anti-Semitism found in their daily lives. This presents itself in small ways, such as an unwillingness to eat food that has been prayed over, refusing to shake hands with Miryem, reducing Miryem’s family to their Jewish heritage, addressing them as “Jew” rather than by their names, and perceiving Jews as greedy cheats seeking to steal money from others. In addition to these microaggressions and prejudices, anti-Semitism comes with a real danger for Miryem and her family. Rakhel points this out to her daughter when the Staryk take an interest in their home. While Miryem does not see the point in hiring Sergey to sleep in the house, Rakhel explains that it is not about protection from the Staryk but from anti-Semitic gossip leading to violence. She recounts an incident where “a band of Staryk went through the countryside to three towns, towns not much bigger than this” (42), burning the churches and houses of rich men, and seizing what little gold they found. But when the Staryk rode past the village where the Jews lived, leaving it unscathed, the townspeople suspected the Jews and Staryk had made a pact—“and now there are no Jews in Yazuda” (42).
Regardless of the purity of intention, actions have consequences—often unintended ones. This fact of life is reflected in the lives of several characters, Miryem especially. When Miryem asks what compensation the Staryk king will give her, her ignorance of the rules of magic does not save her from an unwanted marriage. Miryem’s intention to save her own life by selling silver Staryk jewelry does not prevent the duke from using it to force Irina to marry a reported sadist for his own political gain. While Miryem does not mean to bind her servants’ lives to her own, that does not make them any less her bondsmen. And all her regret for turning the storerooms’ silver into gold will not end the winter that she has unwittingly caused.
Miryem does not hold a monopoly on moral anguish over the consequences of her decisions. When Irina decides to continue with her plan, knowing that it will cause the deaths of innocent Staryk, she considers her regret to be immaterial. All that matters are her actions and their consequences: “It didn’t matter that I cared, that I was sorry; what mattered was what I had done, what I would do” (429). Similarly, Miryem comes to regret her part in the capture of the Staryk king. Though, like Irina, she intended to end the winter that would cause human deaths through cold and starvation, she also accepts that her actions have consequences—namely the deaths of the Staryk. She regretfully thinks of “Flek, and Tsop, and Shofer, whose lives I’d bound to mine, and a little girl I’d given a Jewish name like a gift, before I’d gone away to destroy her home” (377). Miryem must learn to consider all the potential outcomes of action and inaction, weigh them, make a decision, and live with the consequences.
In Lithvas, women of all social statuses seem to have a lack of agency over their own lives, especially when it comes to marriage. This is a struggle shown in the lives of Miryem, Wanda, and Irina. Miryem is luckier than most to have a loving father who respects her own agency and would not sell her into an unworthy marriage, as other fathers might. This fact does not prevent the Staryk king from making her his queen against her will. Though she eventually chooses to marry the Staryk king of her own free will, their initial marriage is one she does not want but cannot escape. She believes the Staryk is using her for her ability to turn silver to gold, which she resents: “But who would really like it, after all, to be married to a king who’d as cheerfully cut off your head if you didn’t spin his straw into gold?” (99). Regardless of Miryem’s home life and circumstances, like the other women in her country, her options are marriage or death.
Wanda fears marriage and her possible death through childbirth. She narrates, “I didn’t want to make a row of dead babies and die” (18). Still, her only hope of delaying her father selling her into marriage for his own convenience is working for Miryem to pay off his debts. She hopes that as long as she is useful in this way, he will not be able to afford selling her off. This hope proves false as he sells her in marriage to a neighbor for the price of weekly alcohol and payment of his debts. Wanda escapes the marriage by way of accidental manslaughter, going on the run with her brother to avoid hanging for their father’s death.
Though Irina has not known the suffering of starvation the way that Miryem and Wanda have, her privileged upbringing does not spare her an arranged marriage. While she would like a marriage based on respect—“I would have liked to be pretty enough or charming enough that at least someone might want to marry me, instead of only taking me as a codicil to whatever begrudging dowry they could wring out of my father” (71)—she knows better than to hope for such a thing, especially without her father’s favor. She likens herself to a “girl-shaped lump of clay” (87), an object that exists purely for a man’s convenience. After all, she thinks, no husband need “value me highly when my father made it so clear that he didn’t” (87).
Despite their social limitations, these women ultimately determine their own futures by asserting their agency and empowering themselves. Miryem takes over her father’s moneylending business, and she refuses to settle for a relationship without respect. Wanda, who was so fearful of marriage, eschews it entirely, instead finding love and comfort in her found family with her brothers and the Mandelstams. And though Irina’s marriage was arranged by men for social and political gain, she subverts their schemes by recognizing her own individual value—particularly her sense of responsibility and dedication to her people—and saving her kingdom and expelling Chernobog from her husband’s body.
By Naomi Novik