97 pages • 3 hours read
Samantha ShannonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Character Analysis
Themes
Symbols & Motifs
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
Book Club Questions
The Priory of the Orange Tree subverts traditional heteronormative narratives to foreground women’s power. Set in an otherwise characteristically high-fantasy universe, it takes place in a world where the presence of female heroes, bureaucrats, spies, pirates, dragonriders, villains, and ship hands is completely natural. Such a depiction challenges medieval-era-inspired fantasy that largely relegates women to supporting roles (as in the Lord of the Rings novels of J. R. R. Tolkien) or uses sexual violence against women as a plot device (as in George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones series). Race too is dealt with differently, with a racially diverse cast of characters. For instance, Loth appears African, Ead African or Middle Eastern, Tané East Asian, and Sabran European, yet none of the characters treat each other differently based on race. Differences do exist in this world, but there are along lines of socio-economic status or religious beliefs and culture.
In addition to being more egalitarian in matters of gender, the novel’s world also features more flexible gender roles than the medieval real world did, with men often playing the role of nurturers and caretakers. For instance, while Chassar is an ambassador, he is also a quasi-mother figure to Ead, while the scholar Elder Vara fulfils that role briefly for Tané. Further, motherhood and marriage are not necessarily aligned, with the unmarried sisters of the Priory sometimes taking lovers to have children. Attraction to members of the same sex is also presented naturally and without fanfare, and it is significant that the text’s two great love stories—Ead and Sabran, Niclays and Jannart—involve this attraction. Though Niclays and Jannart cannot be together publicly, this is due to the latter’s rank, which necessitates a political marriage. Similarly, Sabran reminds Ead that her ancestor Sabran VII “fell in love with her Lady of the Bedchamber” and “abdicated in favor of her daughter” to spend the rest of her life with her lover (609). Though these relationships may cost officer-holders their titles and offices, this evidently has less to do with orientation than with politics and rank, as multiple relationships between members of different sexes in the novel (e.g. Lintley and Margret’s, Dranghien and his lover’s, etc.) encounter similar problems.
Shannon also places women’s experiences—childbirth, motherhood, etc.—at the forefront of the narrative. The pressure on Sabran to produce an heir mirrors the real-world tradition of equating women’s usefulness with their fertility. It is telling that even in the more equitable universe of the novel, Sabran’s power is questioned after she miscarries. However, Sabran eventually wins over her people despite not giving birth, showing that an alternate way of defining women’s value is possible.
Shannon’s story of the knight, the maiden, and the dragon serves as a microcosm of the novel’s broader subversion of fantasy tropes and critique of real-world ideology. In real-world Western narratives, a gallant knight often rescues a helpless damsel from an evil dragon. In the book, this is the narrative Galian promulgated, but in truth it was Cleolind who defeated the wyrm. That Ead is forced to keep Cleolind’s truth a secret even though “it sickened Ead to speak of the Mother in this way, as if she were some swooning waif” shows how official histories silence women’s voices (69). This asks the reader to question the myths and histories they have consumed and consider why women, people of color, and those from the LGBTQ(+) community do not play a more prominent role in them.
At the start of the novel, the regions of its world are mostly isolated from each other. Seiiki trades only with Mentendon and the Empire of the Twelve Lakes, and it decrees that any “outsider who arrived without permission would be put to death” (10). In Inys, Sabran declares that she has “disdain for the heretical practices of the Seiikinese” (39) and “desire(s) no parlance with the East” (39). Because dragons are holy in the East, the West regards Easterners as “wyrm-worshippers”; for the East, the Westerners are heretical because they disdain their gods. Thus, this is a world rife with prejudice.
The Inysh are particularly guilty of holding preconceived notions against other nations. The Inysh believe their religion of Six Virtues is superior to all faiths, and they follow it very closely. This is a satire of medieval Western Christendom, which considered other beliefs blasphemous and heathenistic. This is especially true of divergent opinions on the religions’ messianic founding figures—Jesus in Christianity and Galian in Virtudom. Sabran upbraids Ead for telling the story of Galian and Cleolind differently and “commands” her to retell it the “right way.” However, prejudice and close-mindedness are not limited to the Inysh. Ead herself constantly thinks of Galian as the deceiver, and Chassar refers to the Inysh court as “this court of blasphemers” (169)—a place where Ead should not remain. The new prioress, Mita, does not want to involve the Priory in Inysh affairs at all, leaving the Inysh and the Berethnets to deal with the threat of the High Westerns by themselves. Tané too displays a streak of prejudice when she becomes a Miduchi. When she encounters Niclays in a market she disdains him as an “outsider” and commands his hosts to watch him.
Thus, every major character in the novel displays bias towards other cultures and religions. Ironically, the faiths of Tané, Ead, and Sabran have one vital thing in common: their fear of the Nameless One. However, instead of uniting over this common cause, they remain skeptical of each other for much of the narrative, to their own disadvantage. The novel demonstrates that when one considers their beliefs absolute, they shut off their critical faculties. The Inysh overlook the gaps in their founding story, such as why every queen looks exactly like her mother. In the South, the sisters do not explore the secret mission on which Cleolind embarked after defeating the Nameless One. At the most extreme, characters’ prejudices shut down possible alliances. When it emerges that Yscalin has accepted Draconic rule, most countries assume this is voluntary. Later, Loth discovers Fýredel is ruling the country by force. When Truyde proposes that the dragons of the East are noble, most people, including Ead, dismiss her ideas as heretical.
However, cultural prejudice is not the only kind of close-mindedness in the novel; the characters also exhibit more personal kinds of bias. Niclays is extremely judgmental, dismissing Sulyard as unworthy of Truyde. Ead initially considers Sabran nothing but a spoiled princess, and Tané judges Onren for taking a break during the water trials. It is only when the characters begin to shed their prejudices and realize that their belief systems may not be absolutely true that they start to evolve. Ead begins to see that Sabran is not just an entitled princess but a woman trapped by responsibility and tradition. Sabran accepts that Virtudom may be based on a lie. Tané begins to soften and grow more open-minded.
The shedding of prejudice is not just desirable, but also necessary for survival, since the Nameless One can only be defeated with the sword Ascalon and the two celestial gems. While Kalyba, a woman from the West, forged Ascalon, Cleolind and Neporo (of the South and East, respectively) wielded the gems. The past shows the course for the future: The world must unite to defeat the common threat of the Nameless One. Thus, the text stresses the importance of working for the larger good rather than squabbling over partisan politics.
Love and friendship help expand the worldview of characters and discover the good within themselves and others. Relationships are positive because they help characters develop empathy for another human being, seeing them as a complex person rather than a stereotype. This dynamic plays out in the evolving love between Ead and Sabran. As the women become closer, Ead begins to realize how expectations are crushing Sabran, and Sabran begins to see Ead as a courageous, attractive woman rather than a social inferior. In the case of Tané and Susa, love brings out Tané’s softer, protective side. Tané realizes that her love for Susa is something to be cherished, a friendship “not found more than once in a lifetime” (55), and the loss of Susa forces Tané to reevaluate her actions. Even then, as Tané blames herself for Susa’s death, Nayimathun’s love for Tané makes Tané see her inner goodness again.
The most dramatic example of the redemptive power of love is the character arc of manipulative and self-centered alchemist Niclays Roos. Since Niclays is a point-of-view character, the reader closely witnesses his conniving mindset throughout the text, whether in his loathing for Sabran, his betrayal of Susa, or his mutilation of Nayimathun. All through this, the one guiding light for Niclays remains his love for Jannart, recounted in tender language that contrasts sharply with Niclays’s usual acerbic inner monologue. Recalling Jannart, Niclays notes, “at fifty, he was as striking as he had been the day they had first met. His hair […] had darkened over time to a rich garnet” (346). When morally conflicted, as Niclays often is, he always observes that Jannart would have behaved ethically. Despite this, Niclays typically ends up making the wrong decision.
Given Niclays’s love for Jannart and history of amoral behavior, it seems likely that he will accept Kalyba’s offer to bring Jannart back to life in exchange for killing Ead. However, though Niclays nearly attacks Ead, at the last moment he reverses his decision. The reason for the about-face is interesting: Niclays reveals that he realized his folly when Kalyba shapeshifted into Jannart’s form. By resurrecting him so casually, Kalyba dishonored Jannart. Niclays finally understands that his quest is not Jannart’s: While Jannart devoted himself to the pursuit of knowledge, his love makes Niclays realize that his own quest is the transformation of his own self into “a better man” (753). Thus, Jannart’s love allows Niclays to realize his own potential and self-worth.
By Samantha Shannon