I was quite excited to get into The Obelisk Gate after finishing the previous book, because it left off on a very promising note and the richness of Jemisin’s writing was still fresh in my mind. However, I found that the second book rode a bit too much on the efforts of the first, resulting in a book that was not as spectacular nor as captivating as its predecessor. Here, Jemisin scarcely builds on the worldbuilding from the previous books, and when she does, it is done through straight exposition. Too much of “telling” rather than “showing”… and while there is a narrative excuse for that, it could have been executed better.

Following the events of the previous book, the story in the second edition halts to a grinding stop. Essun’s story involves mostly mundane things relating to Castrima and her attempting to ‘learn’ what her new role in this book is, but even the latter is relegated to background noise while Castrima deals with their own issues. Because of this, much of the exciting events from Essun’s perspective only happen in the very last chunk of the book, which leaves the reader rather stubbornly waiting for things to finally get going.

On the other hand, Nassun’s narrative is slightly refreshing—at least at the start—because hers is a new voice so far in the story. However, I had some serious reservations about her side of the story and her character in general. A large part of Nassun’s story revolves around her dealing with her father’s actions from the previous book (that of killing Uche, her younger brother) and revealing to the reader her complicated relationship with her mother, Essun.

Slight spoilers: We learn that Nassun does not view her mother favorably, in large part because Essun was training Nassun to control and hide her orogeny, but all Essun knows is what the Fulcrum taught her. And we know that the Fulcrum’s methods were less than… pleasant. Because of this, Nassun has a lot of traumatic baggage as she sets out on a journey with her murderous father who likely hates her as much as he loves her. Jemisin uses Nassun’s voice as a way to explore the way trauma impacts a young child and colors their worldview; given that Jemisin has a professional psychology background, this makes sense, and a lot of what she writes about Nassun’s trauma likely hits home for a lot of readers.

However, Nassun’s voice became more of a regurgitation of the effects of trauma—and how much she despises her mother and views herself as a monster—rather than the voice of a child. Maybe I was just dumb, but as a child I did not have as clear a view of trauma nor my understanding of problematic family and/or myself as Nassun does here, at age ten or eleven or so. Her voice started to feel a lot more like a bitter version of Essun rather than a child dealing with trauma.

I also ended up greatly disliking how overpowered Nassun was—understandable since she is the child of a powerful orogene, but that she so quickly establishes connection with an obelisk and displays an innate affinity for magic, which even a ten-ringer struggled to match, is incredulous. She’s literally too perfect in her abilities with minimal effort, and it sets up a rather tired dynamic for the third book—powerful mother vs. even more powerful child, because of course they will be on opposing sides. The trope of an abused, traumatized child discovering her powerful abilities and embracing her identity as an evil monster is also not a particularly innovative one.

For these reasons, I disliked Nassun’s narrative, and after the initial chapters it too grew wearisome. Essun and Nassun are the main perspectives in this book, though there is a slight third—that of Hoa, who is conspicuously missing for much of the novel.

With a lackluster plot, less than endearing characters, and worldbuilding that offered little novelty, there were few things that kept me excited about the book. For one, I appreciated learning more lore about the stone eaters and Hoa in particular—the fact that the novel is framed from his perspective superimposed on Essun’s is something hinted at in the last book and confirmed here. It brings up interesting questions about his motivations and even whether we can claim to know Essun as well as do. There are also a few more interesting things said about orogeny and its close cousin, but the latter was not as fleshed out or compelling as the development of orogeny from the first book.

While this book wasn’t as much of a page-turner as the first, it still continues the narrative and hopefully establishes enough momentum for the third book to be better. I still have hopes for the final book in the trilogy to end things in a satisfying way, since some trilogies fall victim to the ‘Middle Book’ syndrome—wherein the novelty of the first book has waned but the truly exciting plot resolution cannot happen until the third book. Jemisin is a talented writer and I hope she brings the trilogy to a successful conclusion.