A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire

Fiction | Novel | YA | Published in 2020

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Summary

Background

Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Chapters 1-9

Chapters 10-18

Chapters 19-27

Chapters 28-36

Chapters 37-45

Character Analysis

Themes

Symbols & Motifs

Important Quotes

Essay Topics

Themes

Violence and Retribution

In the novel’s world, the eye-for-an-eye model of justice is ethically sound. In a key scene in the book, Cas tells Poppy that he has a surprise gift for her. “It’s not a ring,” he reassures her, but something she will like even better: “retribution” (229) for Lord Chaney. When Poppy enters the dungeon where Chaney is jailed, she can smell “the rich iron scent of blood” (230) from the wounded Ascended. Chaney has already been severely injured: Kieran “tore out his tongue” because Chaney “annoyed” (231) him with his talk. Chaney could be left jailed in the dungeon, but Poppy decides to accept Cas’s gift and thrusts her bloodstone dagger in Chaney’s heart, watching him as “the flesh cracked and peeled back” (232) till the vampry is reduced to ash. This passage indicates Poppy’s acknowledgment that violence in the name of justice or to right a wrong is necessary.

Violence is a pervasive feature in the world of Blood and Ash, and protagonists often partake in bloodshed. Cas rips out his courtier Landell’s heart for insulting Poppy. Kieran tears out Chaney’s tongue. Poppy becomes a killing-machine in battle, feeling “nothing but a sudden iciness” (504) as she watches the vampry Duchess Teerman turn to ash. Poppy’s violent tendencies are in fact a recurrent motif in the book—Cas, Kieran, and other characters frequently joke that Poppy may stab them in anger. Cas often praises Poppy for being “so incredibly violent” (386), and both of them find violence an aphrodisiac as well—for example, when they make love right after the battle at Spessa’s End and the killing of Duchess Teerman. The context of the bloodthirsty world the characters inhabit and the trauma they have undergone go far to explain their thirst for retribution: Poppy was raised in complete isolation and often stripped and beaten as punishment, and Cas was kept in a cage and starved. At the same time, their culture venerates bloodshed. It is a sanctioned rite in Solis for instance, for parents to offer their own thirdborn children to feed the vampire-like Ascended. Lord Chaney kills a little boy he has held hostage and snaps Mrs. Tulis’s neck. Armies of the Ascended turn entire populations into zombies with bloodlust. Faced with such amoral and perverse enemies, Poppy and Cas adopt retributive violence as a way of gaining control of their unpredictable, dangerous world.

Poppy also uses violence to exert autonomy over her destiny. As she notes in a conversation with Alastir, women are not trained to be warriors in Solis: “[S]o many people, especially women, never have the opportunity to protect themselves. They have to rely on the Ascended […] that further strengthens the absolute control the Ascended have” (161). Further, her position as the Maiden meant her body and sexuality were constantly policed. Covertly learning how to fight—through her paternal guardian Viktor—gives Poppy freedom and agency. The ability to inflict wounds also wins her respect in a world where violence is considered crucial for survival. Poppy cannily recognizes this and uses her warrior tendencies to assert that she is strong and cannot be underestimated or ridiculed. What Poppy and Cas do is thus framed as “good” violence because its ultimate goal is to overthrow the status quo in Solis and build a peaceful, egalitarian society. The novel takes the position that violence is acceptable when driven by the need for righteous justice.

Power and Control

One of the issues the text raises is the uses and abuses of political power. The world of Blood and Ash is hierarchical and focused on bloodlines. Monarchies rule both Atlantia and Solis, and blood is quite literally power in other ways as well: The closer by blood an Atlantian is to a deity, the greater their supernatural abilities; likewise, the Ascended of Solis can absorb the same abilities by drinking the blood of an empowered Atlantian. Thus, there is an inherent power differential, with mortals having the least amount of power. The rulers of Solis and Atlantia respond differently to this imbalance: Solis is a closed authoritarian system of repression and thought control, while in Atlantia, commoners are allowed to wield political power. Though Cas has the ability to compel others to do his bidding, it is stressed time and again that Cas has earned his authority through his just rule and wise practices. When he meets the inhabitants of Spessa’s End, they “seemed genuinely happy to see Casteel” (354). Most people address Cas by name, rather than title “which was something not tolerated in Solis” (354). Cas also enjoys an easygoing relationship with his company, and lower-ranking soldiers tease him frequently. This shows that Cas does not need to exert his authority to win their respect. His power is a natural outcome of his well-intentioned rule.

Spessa’s End becomes a metaphor for the kind of equitable rule Cas envisions for all of Atlantia and Solis. Poppy notices that all the homes in the city are “spaced out to accommodate private, curtained terraces and small gardens” (352), whereas in Solis “very few had the land to grow anything” (352). Thus, resources are distributed evenly in Spessa’s End, with households encouraged to produce their own crops. In contrast, in Solis the Ascended keep the commoners intentionally starved of resources so they can wield power over them. Many mortals go hungry in Solis, and hot water is reserved only for the homes of the elite. The Ascended wield power through fear, injustice, and coercion, which befits the unnatural way that they obtain vampry gifts, becoming immortal by giving up their souls in a rite that involves human sacrifice. This process of draining mortals of blood is a thinly veiled allegory for the elite in the real world draining resources to stay in power and comfort. Because the power of the Ascended is unjust, it must be dismantled.

Ironically, even though Cas openly disdains the Ascended’s misappropriation and misuse of power, he sometimes falls in the trap of using his own power unfairly as well: He lies to Poppy to get close to her, locks her in her room ostensibly for her own safety, and keeps secrets from her. All these tactics can be seen as controlling and coercive. Frustrated, Poppy demands Cas “tell me why you thought it was okay […] to kidnap me and use me as ransom before you even knew me” (425)? The question is left unanswered because Cas has no apt reply; moreover, he admits to Poppy he has been coercive with her. This shows that even the most well-intentioned people can misuse any power they have if they are not careful. Wielding power justly is an enormously difficult thing, for which one requires constant self-control and appraisal. As Poppy gains more powers, the question of self-control begins to arise for her as well. In the final scene of the text, Poppy ends up killing commoners because of her uncontrolled gift. She too needs to learn the important lesson of balancing power with self-control and conscientiousness.

The Relationship Between Pain and Pleasure

When Cas bites Poppy the first time, she notes that “his bite had hurt, but only at first, and only for a few seconds. Then, it has felt […] like being drowned in liquid heat” (41). This description of momentary pain followed by pleasure is a clear analogy for traditional portrayals of women’s first sexual experiences. Later in the text, when Cas actually feeds on Poppy’s blood, she experiences “fiery pain stole my breath […] flared brighter, stunning me […] and then […] all that existed in the world was the feel of his mouth at my throat” (332). In both instances, pain precedes pleasure, and sensual, erotic descriptions are framed in the context of seemingly violent acts: biting flesh and drinking blood. This shows that the text positions the relationship between pain and sexual pleasure along the sadism and masochism spectrum.

This mode of sexual expression fits the internal logic of the novel’s world. In Atlantia, the practice of feeding on another’s blood is common and even seen as holy. Partaking in the blood of another is seen as an intimate act, a symbol of open-heartedness and equality. It is customary for married partners to feed from each other: When Cas becomes engaged to Poppy, he finds the idea of feeding from others repulsive. Even pseudo-brotherly love needs to be consecrated by blood—giving close friendships a sexual tinge, as in the case of Kieran and Cas. When Kieran swore an oath to Cas to become bonded with him, they cut their skin and exchanged blood. Eventually, the novel hints, the two men will enter a polyamorous relationship with Poppy—completing the implication of their initial blood union.

The complex relationship between pain and pleasure can also be explored in the context of the vampire romance fantasy genre. The idea of the vampire as a romantic hero has been explored often, starting with the classic text of the genre, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and continuing to Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series. The image of the vampire craving the heroine’s blood is inherently erotic because it literalizes a deep, uncontrollable appetite for the heroine’s body. Of course, the danger of blood play adds to a vampire’s sexual appeal as an object of desire. Armentrout plays with these conventions in her text, but with caveats added around consent, modernizing the trope of the vampire’s helpless victim into a more contemporary heroine with agency. Cas seeks Poppy’s active and repeated consent before feeding from her. Kieran is present in the room to safeguard Poppy. Thus, consent is central in the exchange of pain and pleasure.