57 pages • 1 hour read
S. A. ChakrabortyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content warning: This section of the guide explores racism, enslavement, and murder.
“He raised his sword and laid the curved blade against her neck, soft as a lover’s hand.”
This quote uses foreshadowing and simile in describing the way that Dara touches Nahri. This foreshadows their future love as well as his violent instincts that cost him his life. The simile comparing the way he lays the sword on her neck to a lover’s hand demonstrates the confusion that Nahri feels about Dara’s character.
“It was something only a deviant mind could dream up, an unholy cross between an old man, a green parrot and a mosquito. All bird from the chest down, it bobbed like a chicken as it moved forward on a pair of thick, feathered legs ending in sharp talons.”
“Listen to me. You heard what the sheikh said. You think you can turn back now? Beg your abba for mercy?”
Hanno uses a rhetorical question to convince Ali to jump into danger, literally and figuratively. The obvious answers to his questions create an air of condescension and leave no room for Ali to think critically, capitalizing on Ali’s constant battle surrounding Choosing Between Freedom and Belonging.
“He looks like he belongs here, she thought. Like a ghost forgotten in time, searching for its long-dead companions.”
“‘We’re souled beings like humans, but we were created from fire, not earth.’ A delicate tendril of orange flame snaked around his right hand and twisted through his fingers. ‘All the elements—earth, fire, water, air—have their own creatures.’”
S.A. Chakraborty uses personification to bring an inanimate object to life. The flames are described with animalistic imagery to demonstrate the magic and powers that seemingly normal objects have in this new world. The elements having their own creatures brings to life the natural forces of the world.
“Somewhere across the river, across deserts vaster than seas, was Cairo, the only home she’d ever known. A hard place but familiar and predictable—completely unlike the future Dara offered. ‘Or follow me,’ he continued, his voice smooth. Too smooth.”
Juxtaposition highlights the turmoil Nahri feels about following Dara. All she has known is Cairo, which is “hard,” but at least predictable, whereas the future is potentially full of danger, which is emphasized by the description of Dara’s voice as not only “smooth” but “too smooth.”
“‘It’s not haunted,’ Wajed countered. ‘It simply…misses its founding family.’”
This quote personifies the palace, giving it feelings to explain its strange magic. In doing this, Wajed implies that the palace itself has control over its own fate, reinforcing the idea that Mysterious Forces Determine Fate.
“His name alone made his subjects tremble and glance over their shoulders for spies. He was an imposing man, massive really, a combination of thick muscles and hearty appetite. He was built like a barrel, and at the age of two hundred, his hair had just started to go gray, silver spotting in his black beard. It only made him more intimidating.”
“Such was the power of Suleiman’s seal. When used, all magic, every trick and illusion of the djinn—of the peri, of the marid, of God only knows how many magical races—failed.”
Alliteration is used to describe the effects of Suleiman’s seal. This alliteration, which repeats the sibilant “s,” emphasizes the folkloric element to the legend of Suleiman. It sounds true, but no one can explain its existence.
“But they were hypocrites—look at me! I’m living proof!”
Nahri acknowledges her symbolic and ironic existence as a shafit and a Nahid. She is the last living Nahid, indispensable to her tribe, but at the same time her tribe is strictly opposed to the existence of shafit.
“Twice his height and carved from sky blue marble, the throne originally belonged to the Nahids and looked it, a monument to the extravagance that had gotten them overthrown.”
Ali sees the throne as a symbol of the Nahid’s mistakes, whereas later Nahri notices it as a symbol of the continued daeva defiance. The throne is a symbol, but its meaning depends on the perspective of the onlooker.
“Thunder rumbled, oddly distant. Perhaps a storm was brewing past the veil hiding the city.”
The narrative clarifies that the thunder is from the storm caused by ifrit that Nahri and Dara are enduring just beyond the veil, creating dramatic irony. In addition, the thunder represents the chaos that is coming for Ali, both from Dara and Nahri and from the remnants of his relationship with the Tanzeem.
“‘We’ll see, Brother Alizayd.’ She shrugged. ‘Allahu alam.’ She said the human holy words better than Ali’s pureblood tongue would ever manage, and he couldn’t help but tremble slightly at the confidence in her voice, at the phrase meant to demonstrate the folly of man’s confidence.”
The Arabic phrase’s literal translation is “God knows best.” The woman references Ali’s religion in order to subtly remind him of his duty as a devout Muslim.
“Hairy purple melons quivered and trembled beside ordinary oranges and dark cherries, while midnight black nuggets the size of fists were piled between cashews and pistachios. Bolts of giant folded rose petals scented the air between those of patterned silk and sturdy muslin, and a jewelry merchant swung a pair of earrings toward her, painted glass eyes that seemed to wink.”
Chakraborty personifies fruits as Nahri first enters The Grand Bazaar. Words like “quivered” and “trembled” reflect Nahri’s nervousness. In addition, Nahri sees familiar things next to outlandish ones, which reflects the feeling of being in a city where she technically belongs but does not understand.
“A younger man stood directly behind the prince, dressed in similar fashion to the soldiers, though his turban was a dark crimson instead of gray. He was tall, with a scruffy beard and a severe expression on his narrow face.”
This quote describes Ali from Nahri’s perspective. Ali’s dress reflects his loyalties: He was raised as a soldier and still dresses like one. His turban that signifies his role as Qaid is dark crimson, the color of blood, in part representing the blood on his hands.
“Dark vines sprawled from its depths like lapping tongues, swallowing the crumbling remains of fountains and ensnaring defenseless fruit trees. Flowers in near violent hues—a crimson that shone like blood, a speckled indigo like a starry night—bloomed across the ground.”
Here Chakraborty personifies the palace garden to reflect Nahri’s feelings and emphasize invisible forces at play. Nahri sees plants “swallowing” and “ensnaring defenseless” victims. The flowers remind her of blood and darkness. These descriptions juxtapose what is supposed to be a peaceful environment with the fear that Nahri holds.
“There’s a lot of blood on your hands.”
Ghassan says this to Ali when he reveals that he knows that Ali funded the Tanzeem. This quote is both literal and metaphorical, as Ali does have blood on his hands from killing an innocent shafit moments prior. It is also a threat—if Ali does not prove his loyalty, Ghassan will kill innocents to prove a point and it will be Ali’s fault.
“‘You won’t be able to continue like this, Alizayd,’ he warned. ‘To keep walking a path between loyalty to your family and loyalty to what you know is right. One of these days, you’re going to have to make a choice.’”
“Greatness takes time, Banu Nahida. Often the mightiest things have the humblest beginnings.”
Kartir is referring to the humble origins of their society, but it also describes Nahri. He says this to Nahri at the moment she needs it the most, letting her draw a comparison between her struggles and her ancestors’.
“The favorite son of the djinn king, and she’d snatched him back from death. There was power in that. And it was time for Nahri to take it.”
“‘Oh, my child…’ His father’s eyes were filled with sorrow. ‘Not everything is in a book.’”
The close-up of the eyes to describe Ghassan’s countenance highlights the sadness and pity he feels toward his son’s naivete. It rips apart the foundation of Ali’s perspective, because he is learning for the first time that morality and truth are much more complicated than what can be put in a book.
“I believe you, Alizayd. That’s the problem. Like your namesake, I think you want to help the shafit so much that you’d be willing to bring the city down just to see them rise. And I can’t risk that.”
“Nahri was speechless. She could take little heed in Ghassan’s assertion that shafit were equals—not when he could so easily disregard such a truth for political reality. Doing so bespoke a cruelty she had not seen in Dara’s far more ignorant brand of prejudice.”
This juxtaposition highlights two kinds of prejudice represented by Dara and Ghassan. Dara truly believes that shafit will lead to their race’s destruction, a discrimination based on ignorance. Ghassan believes that shafit are equal, but still he oppresses them because he believes it will keep the city intact, a discrimination based on pure cruelty.
“‘Thought he what?’ Ghassan gave her a condescending smile. ‘In what world do men and women pay the same price for passion? You’ll be the one blamed. Indeed, people will assume you particularly…talented to have seduced such a religious man.’”
This passage emphasizes the superiority that Ghassan projects over everyone, including Nahri, whom he sees as a potentially fierce rival. The phrase “condescending smile” and use of ellipses to accentuate a patronizing pause evokes a sense of the shame and stupidity that he wishes Nahri to experience.
“His face turned colder, and so Nahri smiled, the first time she’d done so since Dara’s death. It was the smile she’d given the basha, the smile she’d given to hundreds of arrogant men throughout the years just before she swindled them for all they were worth. Nahri always smiled at her marks.”