We Set the Dark on Fire

I've been so interested to read this book since I first heard of it a few months ago and have been waiting for weeks now to get it from my library. It felt so nice to finally get it in my hands and I had such fun reading and highlighting the hell out of this book in a single sitting.

The first thing that strikes you most about this book is the world. It's an island nation, with the inner island separated from the outer ones by a wall and border security enforcement being a major concern for the government. The govt elite live separately in a compound, literally on higher ground, sound in their belief that they know what's best for the people of their country, and anyone protesting for the sake of the poor and destitute people are immediately deemed rebels and punished harshly. The border enforcement forces are increasingly vicious, terrorizing even the people who live on the supposed “right” side of the wall, and scaring them with the possibility of being sent outside the wall. The themes of illegal immigration, the lengths to which families will go to for the safety of their children and to make it to the right side, the inhumane ways in which the government makes policies to torment and punish people are all explored very very well and the parallels to what's currently happening in our country(and also around some parts of the world) are uncanny. The world building in this book is a great example of how authors take inspiration from the read world to create fantasies and how they can show a mirror to the fault lines that exist in our reality.

While the idea of a school to train girls to be wives is not something new in fantasies, I found the concept of two wives - one to be an intellectual partner and the other to fulfill the more usual wifely duties felt quite unique. And though atleast the Primera being an equal partner and being involved in her husband's politics seems like a good thing for her, the inherent misogyny of this whole concept is made glaringly obvious from the get go. The women are taught to suppress their own desires and do everything for the prosperity of the “family” which in essence means the husband. And despite all the young women being trained in the same fashion, the way they are treated differently because of their background or how close/far away from the capital they were born, is a completely hypocritical version of how the supposed marriage system has to work.

The author does a great job with the main character Dani. She is strong willed, smart, dedicated to her family because they sacrificed everything for her and only wants to keep her head down and do her job as the Primera. However, with reluctance initially, she starts working for the resistance and slowly realizes the prejudices that the elite harbor for the common people and how the whole system is based on corruption. Once she sees the truths for herself, she starts making her own choices, never caring for her safety. She did come across as impulsive and not thinking through her actions sometimes, but I could totally see where she was coming from.

Carmen on the other hand is mysterious, charming and flirty and I thought made a good balance to Dani's slightly stoic demeanor. I loved the development of their relationship from being slightly antagonistic to kind of sister wives who slowly get to know each other better. The feelings they felt for each other developed very organically in the story and the aspect of it being forbidden definitely lent more intensity to their relationship. Everything else around them always felt so high stakes and almost dangerous, so I really enjoyed the bit of levity in the scenes when they were together. Their husband Mateo on the other hand is someone we do come to hate as a reader, but I never did get a good sense of him - I understood that he is more on the extreme and cruel side in his politics and too egotistical in nature, but I would have liked to know his motivations better.

The writing took some getting used to for me. I'm not one for purple prose and while the author didn't indulge too much in it, I felt the writing a little too metaphorical for my taste initially. However, I quickly fell in love with the story and got completely lost in it. There are also some very memorable scenes and conversations in the book for which I want to commend the author for her thoughtfulness. One scene which I feel will resonate with a lot of readers is when Dani shuts up a man for trying to mansplain her own life to her. It's such a passionate piece of dialogue and I feel many women would have wanted to say something similar to a man atleast once in their life. The author also does a great job of giving her female characters the strength to discover themselves and fight for their choices in a world where they don't really have a lot of agency. While showing the ugly reality of the government, the author doesn't completely paint a great picture of the rebels - it's very realistically portrayed that despite great and noble intentions, revolutions are always messy.

Overall, this is a very fascinating world which feels all too real, with excellent female characters, a passionate sapphic romance and an ending that I really did not see coming. I would definitely recommend this to all lovers of fierce female leads in fantasy, but would like to remind everyone that this is not an action packed book, but a story that takes a deep look at prejudiced politics, discrimination of the already disadvantaged populace and why revolutions in such instances are inevitable.

Interesting female-empowerment dystopian premise that's both Latinx and queer, so I had some high hopes here. Unfortunately, the labored, repetitive writing, the by-the-numbers plot, and the characters who never become nuanced humans but rather remain lame archetypes all combined to really let me down. Sigh.

We Set the Dark on Fire is an excellent example of how government-mandated relationship structures are oppressive. The core of the story revolves around an island society's marriage structure; because of an old myth, each man - or at least each upper-class man - has two wives. One wife, the Primera, is expected to be his intellectual equal; she runs his affairs and household and manages his social engagements - the business side of the marriage, if you will - and a second wife who is his heart. The second wife, the Segunda, is expected to be emotional, passionate, and beautiful; she bears and raises his children. The wives are expected to get along and love each other like family.

This is really only the framework for the plot, though. The plot itself revolves around the idea of who belongs in society and who doesn't. I've seen some people call it illegal immigration, and there IS a wall that it is illegal to come over; the unfortunates living outside the wall are uncared for by society and government alike. But I didn't get the impression that they weren't actually part of the same country. So I'm not 100% certain I agree that it counts as immigration in the story, though it does have a lot of the same principles, so it may as well be. There's a lot of othering and dehumanizing, and deciding who deserves what based on their wealth, and government checkpoints to check residence papers, so even if it isn't technically immigration - well. It's still a major theme.

This sounds like it could be a book on polyamory; it is not. This is government-mandated female oppression. The government, and our main character's new husband, specifically, are intent on crushing the resistance coming from the poor who live on the edges of the island. The resistance is called La Voz, or The Voice, and they help Daniela, our main character, out of a tight spot in the beginning of the book. In return, they expect her to spy for them on her new husband, a highly-placed government official. Not knowing who to trust, and afraid of her lies being discovered, she agrees.

What follows is the early stages of rebellion: protests, government cover-ups, undercover meetings, and military checkpoints. In the middle of it all, Daniela begins to fall in love with her Segunda, Carman, who seems to have secrets of her own.

I really really enjoyed this book, and I am very much looking forward to the second! It's listed as a duology, so it should just be the two. I can't wait!

You can find all my reviews and more at Goddess in the Stacks.

This is largely my fault. I had a feeling that We Set the Dark on Fire was not for me. The description didn't hold much interest for me and I am trying to read more stuff outside of YA. But I am also currently making an effort to read more from writers of color, particularly Latinx writers. That means reading stuff that I wouldn't normally gravitate towards. Not to mention, there seems to be a much talked about influx of Latinx writers in the YA market, which has always been decidedly more diverse and adventurous than the adult market. So to untested waters I go, and so far....it does not seem to be going well.

We Set the Dark on Fire is a dystopia set in its most privileged realm, and Daniela Vargas, a girl from the other side of the wall, has found a way not only in, but to the top. Educated at a school where young girls train to be wives of the upper class' sons, she is married off to Mateo Garcia, a politico with designs to be the next ruler, along with her long-time rival, Carmen. If Dani has shaped herself into the perfect Primera - the wife that represents her husband's intellectual equal and partner - Carmen is the quintessential Segunda - the beautiful, compassionate lover. Naturally, they would be coveted by the same family. Once married though, Dani realizes that Mateo has no intention of giving her an ounce of responsibility or power in the household, and as such Carmen and Dani, despite their years of conflict, begin to gravitate towards each other. On top of it all, a rebel group, La Voz, knows Dani's humble origins and threatens to out her if she does not help their insurgency against the oppressive government that she has worked so hard to be a part of.

There was a little thrill that happened where I realized I was reading about a world based in Latinx cultures. The names, the foods, the appearances left me with a feeling of comfort and excitement that I don't get to experience most of the time in fantasy as a Latina. But once that passed, I had very little to hold on to. There was no sense of atmosphere, the prose left absolutely no impression on me. Daniela is difficult to attach to. I couldn't engage with either side of her - the dedicated part that propelled her to the top of her class, or the part that misses the life she left behind. Daniela never asked for this, and if she had been she would have preferred to live a humble life in the small town where she grew up. She doesn't give a damn about being wealthy or powerful. She does it out of obligation, and she's capable of doing it a level that no one else can. Supposedly. Because, as it turns out, there isn't anything particularly special about how Dani conducts herself.

See, when you're dealing with the upper crust of society, the devil is in the tiniest of details. Everything is sideways. Everything is about manners or lack thereof. This is one of the reasons why I'm starting to really enjoy historical fiction - nothing is said explicitly, and yet one could dish out the worst of insults or the grandest of compliments in extremely subtle ways. It's infuriating yet deeply entertaining. This book is not subtle. This book is a sledgehammer dragging artlessly on the ground. Mejia's way of portraying Dani's Primera skills is boring clothes and superficial conversations with other Primeras. In the over 200+ pages I read, there was little sign of the clever, manipulative powerhouse that Dani was supposed to be.

Likewise, Carmen is presented as vain at first, but is over time revealed to be more down-to-earth. But I'm not sure how Carmen's vanity would have made her a good Segunda. It seems like a very immature way to portray a character that is supposed to be, by definition, emotionally intelligent. And the bond that develops between Dani and Carmen didn't feel organic at all. I would have preferred if they had actually accomplished something together to build their relationship, rather than wandering into each other's rooms when they're bored and ogling each other. And the rebel plot is mostly negligible - it is dutifully ever present in the whole story but carries little weight. Much like everything else in Dani's life - from her education, to her marriage - Dani has no options other than to do what she has been told. I have little idea what Dani really wants so I was perpetually frustrated with this story.

I was hoping to like this despite my initial misgivings, but I think this story was told in the wrong way. It would have made a lot more sense as an adult novel, and would have benefited a lot from deeper texture in the setting and in the characters. As a dystopia, it is neither frightening or alluring, and Dani, who has been plopped into this world with little choice or agency, provides nothing in making it feel more real or grounded. Considering how many boxes it checks - girl/girl romance, Latinx setting - this would have been an extremely satisfying home run if it had been good, but sadly this was a dud.