Concerning: Notes on A Broken Queen
As I’ve done with the first two books, here I reveal some of my references and intentions in the third volume of The Nine Realms. Spoilers ahead!
Mikil’s sojourn on a deserted isle was originally part of A Queen in Hiding but I shifted it to this volume because the first had too many strands following too many characters. I’ve always been intrigued by the Robinson Crusoe-Swiss-Family-Robinson-Castaway situation.
The chapter that follows, recounting sea creatures saving Cerúlia, is the most overtly magical interlude in the whole series. I worked hard to give each species a distinct tone of voice.
I intended Thalen’s and Cerúlia’s depression, heartbreak, and injuries to fulfill the tropes of “melodrama” as defined by film theorists. Heroic deeds constitute part of protagonists’ admirable traits, but so does bearing up under suffering. (See my chapters about the genre in The Norton Introduction to Film Genres and about Frodo’s tribulations in From Hobbits to Hollywood.) Like all authors and filmmakers, I also play with the melodramatic tropes of “just in time” and “too late”: the rescue ship spots Mikil’s craft just in time, but Mikil realizes the mysterious young woman’s identity too late. The reason Tolkien entitles two of his chapters “Many Meetings” and “Many Partings” is that separation and reunion are key themes of melodrama.
Speaking of LOTR, Peddler’s magical mirror is a direct steal of the exalted Mirror of Galadriel. And I hoped that all readers subconsciously grasp that series’ central verse, written by Cerúlia’s tutor, “Though Dusty sits the Nargis Throne,” copies “All that is Gold Does Not Glitter,” in rhyme scheme and structure.
Perhaps even more than the previous volumes, A Broken Queen works with setting, costumes, and atmospherics: see, for instance, the scenes of the Raiders’ trek on the windswept cliffs, the strange features of Wyeland, the cold, midnight confrontation with the Oros holding Jutterdam captive.
(“Yoo-hoo, Queenie” is the best line of dialogue in the whole series.)
I wrote the pledge that the three erstwhile Queen’s Shields take to steel themselves to their purpose as a tribute to George R. R. Martin’s poem about the Night’s Watch. I wish it had half the power.
Although plenty of confrontations transpire in this book, A Broken Queen should read like the slow movement of a symphony, lyrical and sad.
A change begins when the catamount confronts the princella, a switch into activity that builds when she engages the Ciello’s services. (Think of the sexual tension of The Bodyguard with Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner.) After Cerúlia slaps Ciello, she reclaims her true name.
Of course, Nana being the first to recognize Cerúlia replays the scene of the old servant who recognizes Odysseus when he comes home in disguise.
Part Six, the last part, provides a tense segue to The Return of the Queen.