A fantasy novel that explores gender identity, cultural differences, growing up, and belonging.
Almond and Quartz are part of the Nezel people, refugees working as servants in a desert domain whose culture and values differ from their own. In Nezel culture, all children are genderless and use vo/veir pronouns until they choose a gender at a coming-of-age ceremony. On the cusp of this milestone, Quartz is ready to declare as a man; the quiet Almond, however, is more reserved about expressing veir choice. Vo doesn’t feel like either a man or woman, but rather in between. While this in-between gender is recognized in the Nezel culture, and indeed, bound into its creation myth, the Irzemi people among whom they live view such individuals as the lowest of the low. And although Almond and Quartz were “as close as could be to siblings without sharing blood,” their relationship is strained as Quartz urges Almond to choose a path that doesn’t feel right.
Against these personal currents is set a larger conflict, as one faction of Irzemi, even less sympathetic to the Nezel, conspires to take over the kingdom. Almond and Quartz get caught up in the intrigue, particularly Almond, who discovers a secret about the heir to the Irzem kingdom. It is a bit of a spoiler, but revealed fairly early on, and bears on the representation in the book; if you want to know, click and drag over the space below:
The heir, assigned male at birth, is a trans girl, and seeks support from Almond.
Notably, the story not only includes gender diverse characters, but also centers a culture with a belief in choosing one’s own gender (of which there are more than two), and ties this belief to the fundamental texts of its religion, which are interspersed with the narrative.
No racial identities or skin tones are noted; based on the cover image, Almond and Quartz could be read as White or as light-skinned people of color. Issues of cultural contrast, power, and privilege, however, are woven throughout the story. Quartz also has a physical difference, with one hand and one “gonehand”; rather than being a limitation, this actually aids him in one situation.
Author Lisa Bunker notes at the publisher’s website, “I wrote it in a retro style, inspired in particular by Ursula LeGuin’s original Earthsea trilogy.” This style sometimes leads to long, descriptive passages, which, however lovely, mean a slower pacing than today’s young readers may be used to; the story may be better suited to the older end of the middle-grade age range and to young adult readers. “It’s the high fantasy novel I wish 12-year-old closeted me could have discovered in the stacks of my school library,” Bunker says. (The publisher rates it for ages 11 to 16.) For those who venture into its pages, this imaginative and affirming tale both looks back to its inspiration and envisions a world that could be.
