I love being wrong about a book.

Reading a book so completely outside your expectations is like going on an adventure in an unknown land. Piecing together clues and foreshadowing felt like charting a course on a map. Revelations near the end were landmarks, rewarding you for picking out the trail from the weeds. If you’ve ever gotten lost in a book like this, you know- it’s a rare and unique joy that can’t be replicated. They’re the books we wish we could read for the first time again; The Fifth Season is one of those books for me. 

The Fifth Season takes place on a pangea-like continent called The Stillness, an ironic name for a land that is constantly wracked by tectonic upheaval. Every few hundred years a major climate catastrophe threatens humanity’s existence, forcing every community to fight for survival. These climate events are called “Seasons” and have destroyed hundreds of civilizations before. Now a new Season has started and Essun finds her husband has killed their son and kidnapped their daughter. The end of the world will have to wait- she needs to save the only child she has left.

One of my favorite parts of this book is how little that plot summary matters. So many recent sci-fi and fantasy books I’ve read have doubled down hard on the plot, the worldbuilding, the magic systems. Things that, frankly, I don’t think make a book. The Fifth Season instead focuses intensely on character. The characters, Damaya, Syen, and Essun, weave their narratives throughout the story, creating a colorful tapestry of The Stillness. Through their eyes, we experience the brutality and nuance of oppressive systems which informs not just on their character but on the entirety of the world around them. Character-driven worldbuilding can often feel like exposition dumps, but Jemisin manages to show how the characters are shaped and moved by their world instead of just inhabiting it. None of this slows down the book’s momentum. By the end of the book, I felt like I’d read one giant proof-of-concept for a future series and it was phenomenal. 

The inclusion of second-person present tense perspective enhances this focus on character. I struggle to think of the last thing I read that was in second-person and it took adjusting my brain to get into the flow. This may be an immediate turn-off for people and I get it, I also have Point of View Prejudice. I politely beg you from my knees to dive in and try anyway. The use of second-person is integral to the book; the first few chapters shine with its use and it only gets better as the book progresses. Give it a shot. I promise it’s worth it. 

Of all my expectations, I thought I was pretty safe betting on the genre. The book was on both sci-fi and fantasy lists but the inclusion of the words “Climate Fiction” made me assume sci-fi. What I didn’t expect was a wonderful blend of both. It reminded me of the Dragonriders of Pern series, which takes place in a pseudo-European medieval society with people who ride dragons. It doesn’t sound or act like sci-fi until you piece the clues together to realize, “Oh, actually, that thing in the sky is a satellite, we’re humans who colonized an alien planet, and the dragons are a native alien species we bred for the best traits to aid us in surviving here.” The Stillness acts similarly, the main narrative heavily relying on the inclusion of “magic” in the shape of orogeny. There are enough clues, though, enough little things throughout, that hint at something different, something more in the realms of sci-fi. The blend of the two is successful and intriguing, keeping the reader on their toes to the last sentence. 

If you haven’t read the book (or finished it), I highly recommend it. I’m not here to give it a rating, or stars, or bang it over anyone’s head. I’m sure it won’t appeal to some people; it is incredibly graphic and, at some points, very uncomfortable. I think that’s part of what makes it shine, though. The Fifth Season pulled me through the whole range of human emotion, kept me intrigued with the world, and crafted itself so well that I fell in love with the characters. It affected me so greatly that, when I turned the last page, I ran to my partner and shoved the book in his face saying, “You need to finish it so I can scream about it.” If that’s not a hearty enough recommendation for you, I don’t know what is. 

This was such a strong start to the Book of the Month club and I am so excited to see where it goes from here! Stay tuned for next week’s intro to February’s book. It’s definitely a bit different than this one, but I think they complement each other nicely. Until then, happy reading!

The review above is intended for people who have not read or completed the book. For that reason, it is spoiler-free and vague. The following section is going to discuss the themes, literary and real-world allusions, and how the foreshadowing rocks. That means there are SPOILERS BELOW. The Fifth Season is best when you don’t know any spoilers. If you plan to EVER read this book, venture no further. This is your warning. 

Okay, spoilers are about to happen. You better have read the book. 

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Not kidding. Turn back now. 

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^{(Except do come back, just when you’re done)}

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Seriously. Last chance. 

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If you’re reading this now, I’m assuming you’ve read The Fifth Season in its entirety. Holy crap folks. What a ride. Let’s break down some of the major themes and twists and how they were handled. 

If you read a lot of fantasy and sci-fi, there’s something I call “Fantasy Racism” that shows up pretty often. It usually involves the elves hating the dwarves, or the orcs being stereotyped as barbarians, but Look, This Orc Breaks Those Stereotypes And He’s Smart! kinda things. I’ve never minded them too much, whether it was books, movies, or video games. There are criticisms to be had about pushing humanity’s racist garbage on fantasy worlds (like, why does there have to be racism as a default?), but it’s become enough of a trope that I usually acknowledge its place and move on. 

The Fifth Season has put all those books and their shallow take on race to shame. Until now, I’ve never seen an oppressed person code-switch, reclaim a slur, or struggle with internalized prejudice in a book. The Fifth Season has set a new standard for me and every shallow “Fantasy Racism” book that ends up in my hands will pale in comparison. The dehumanization of the orogenes is uncomfortable to read, devastating to sympathize with, and incredibly real. It’s very clear that she’s pulling from real life- the microaggressions ring true and the last Syenite chapter (Syenite, fractured) has a historical and literary counterpart: Margaret Garner. The minute I read that chapter I knew it referenced Toni Morrison’s Nobel Prize-Winning book, Beloved. What I didn’t know is that both Jemisin and Morrison pulled from the life of Margaret, an enslaved woman and mother who lived in the 1800s. Margaret killed her daughter rather than let her go back into slavery- just like Syenite would rather Corundum be dead than end up in a system of violence. 

N. K. Jemisin’s handling of trauma speaks to her education as a counselor. About halfway through the book, you may be able to put together that the three main viewpoints- Damaya, Syen, and Essun- are the same person. What separates them, besides age and time, is their trauma. Damaya’s trauma relates to being forced from her family, brought to a place she cannot escape, and could very well die at. Syenite escapes her oppressors but can’t outrun them forever, forcing her to give up the little freedom she’d found. Essun exists to hide but finds it doesn’t matter: Her son dies anyway. Parceling these three separate, but connected, traumas into different names is a way for the character to compartmentalize her past and her hurt. 

The foreshadowing of every twist, such as the three viewpoints being the same person, folded itself into the story seamlessly. Little clues were left everywhere and, while I was immersed in solving one mystery, two others completely slipped me by. Only with retrospect was I able to see how clever the use of second-person was. I never even questioned why it was in second-person! Finding out Hoa was narrating threw me for a loop and recontextualized all we knew about him. Then, the big one: the moon. Like, take a moment to consider how much time we spent in seaside towns and islands. Did ANYONE navigate by the moon, mention the moon waning, or talk about the damn tides? No! Never once crossed my mind. Alabaster’s last line left me reeling and wanting more at the same time: the marks of an absolutely satisfying cliffhanger. 

All in all, the way N. K. Jemisin pieced all these things together was brilliant. The Fifth Season might end up one of my favorites. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did. If you did, feel free to comment here or on my Instagram so we can talk about it! Just promise- no spoilers for future books or for this book without hiding them! M-O-O-N, that spells “please don’t spoil the book for new readers in the comments”! Until next book, happy reading.