Blood Over Bright Haven

Patriarchal Tiran culture’s relationship to thought mirrors the real-world approaches of 18th-century Europe. In Tiran’s academia, intellect and emotion are presented as opposite forces, with logic portrayed as the superior realm of men and sentiment the inferior realm of women.

However, the novel dismisses this dichotomy. No one is guided purely by feelings or reason—such a being would erase their own humanity and potential for more. Instead, the novel argues that the tensions between emotions and logic are what make us human, and all people should aim to use both within reason to become their best selves. Sciona, for instance, consistently operates in both realms, using her powerful intellect and her access to deeply felt emotion to inform her understanding of her world.

We see Sciona balance her sense and sensibility before her highmage exam: She has readied her tactical and strategic faculties, but also cannot repress her nervousness. Even though at this point in the narrative, she still prizes the ideal of being a purely rational being and dismisses her emotions as weakness, she still feels powerfully. As the narrative progresses, Sciona, aided by Thomil, grows to accept her emotions and empower herself through them, recognizing the value of love and being loved and understanding how grief, rage, and guilt can be motivators. Sciona’s mental health challenge after discovering that siphoning magic kills living beings illustrates how damaging ignoring emotional reactions can be. The mages who designed the siphoning system and those who practice it without remorse ignore the pangs of their conscience. Aunt Winny, who has also internalized the idea that emotional lability is dangerous, wants to lobotomize Sciona to cure her mental illness; however, Sciona and Alba both recognize that even difficult or unruly emotions are necessary. Without her depression, Sciona could not have conceived of her act of radical rebellion; without her intellectual resources, she could not have executed it.

While Sciona learns to balance her intellectual and emotional sides, the novel shows us what happens when these aspects of personality are not in equilibrium. Alba is completely in touch with her emotions—she is a kind, thoughtful, supportive friend to her cousin. However, when Sciona asks her instead to use her logical brain to consider the horrific effects of magical siphoning, Alba refuses to engage—she would rather cut off the relationship than compel herself to rationally examine Tiran. Renthorn imagines himself to be a cold academic machine; however, in reality, he is controlled by his lust for power. Rather than producing an impressive plan for city expansion—as would befit an intellectual star—he resorts to violence, attempting to kill a rival mage and then to sexually assaulting Sciona. His love of magic is fueled by viciousness and a love of inflicting suffering. Bringham pretends to be a progressive intellectual, whose shepherding of Sciona dispels outdated stereotypes, but in reality, he is puppeted by shame and guilt about the harm he has inflicted on the many Kwen women working in his factories. Thus, the novel presents intellect and emotionality as fundamentally human and inescapable; suppressing either leads to dysfunction.