Metal Slinger

“Thanks for throwing me under the boat, asshole.”

Jovie’s mental complaint illustrates the fact that Schneider’s world building draws upon real-world sayings and conventions. By taking a real colloquialism (to “throw someone under the bus”) and changing the method of transportation to a boat, Schneider subverts the established imagery of this common saying to deliver a reminder that life on the sea affects every aspect of Alaha’s culture, even its language.

“I’ve always found beauty in its complexity, felt pride in our people for surviving in such brutal conditions. But for some reason I can’t pinpoint, it feels less impressive looking at it now.”

After traveling to the Market, Jovie finds her perception of Alaha changed. However, her shifting perceptions are not intended to diminish the Alaha people’s will to survive. Instead, her thoughts highlight the brutality underlying the fact that an entire community is being punished for Wren’s desire for power. This issue foreshadows the novel’s climactic revelation that Jovie has been secretly fighting on Alaha’s behalf for the entirety of the text.

“There’s no thinking or planning like it’s often easy for me to do against other opponents, only instinct and reaction, my purest form of training taking the lead. It’s euphoric.”

Jovie finds relief in sparring with Messer, someone she considers a worthy opponent. Her admitted propensity for thinking and planning offers a clue toward the fact that Jovie is not as powerless in her new context as she lets Acker believe. She is, instead, focused on secret plans that lie behind her immediate actions.

“‘Yes, I love [Kai],’ I tell him. ‘He’s my closest friend.’

He shakes his head, chuckling through an exhale. ‘That has to be the worst proclamation of love I’ve ever heard.’”

The passionless way that Jovie characterizes her love for Kai both operates as part of her deception (in which she plays into Acker’s assumption about her ignorance) and highlights the novel’s exploration of different types of love. Falling in love with Acker shows Jovie that her love for Kai is based on friendship, not romance.

“‘No,’ he says, voice tired and hoarse. ‘I’m never going to tell you something just to benefit myself.’

‘Not even if it means saving your life?’ I ask, stunned.”

Acker’s promise not to tell Jovie anything merely to benefit himself is one that he keeps throughout the novel. This promise does not necessarily indicate honesty, however, as Acker often fails to tell Jovie certain pieces of information because he reaps a benefit by the omission. In this scene, Jovie’s shocked reaction suggests that she would be willing to mislead Acker in order to save her own life and the lives of others—which she will do in the penultimate chapter.

“You said magic was gifted by Mother Nature, but how? She’s not, like, a real entity.”

The novel’s demarcation between myth and reality within a fantasy setting shifts as Jovie learns more about magic and the world. When Jovie lives in Alaha, separate from land and therefore magic, she considers figures like Mother Nature to be imaginary. Once she learns more about land-based magic, she does not find incontrovertible proof that Mother Nature is real, but she no longer entirely discounts the possibility. Thus, Schneider introduces an element of ambiguity that mirrors the various approaches to faith that exist in the real world.

“Boys outnumber the girls by two to one for the last three generations.”

Alaha’s prohibition against premarital sex is derived from an issue of overpopulation, given its extremely limited living space. This imbalance between the sexes, meanwhile, illustrates that even an overlarge population might face an issue of genetic diversity. This issue suggests that Alaha’s long-term survival in its current circumstances is essentially unsustainable.

“The Kenta you saw at the Market weren’t an honest portrayal of how our people have fared. We’ve been in and out of conflict with a neighboring territory for decades.”

Acker intends this comment to serve as a defense for Kenta’s willingness to allow young children to join the army, a practice that Jovie finds abhorrent. The details that he reveals, however, actually highlight the income inequality between the Kenta elite and the commoners, and this blatant disparity further develops Jovie’s understanding of the corruption that festers in Kenta’s court.

“Wielding my gift without the anxiety of needing to taper myself felt as natural as breathing, allowing the warmth to spread over my body and mind like a balm to my soul. I didn’t want to turn it off. Ever.”

Though Jovie spends much of the novel secretly fighting against The Corruptive Influence of Power, she is not entirely immune to the lure of power herself, and this passage clearly illustrates that she requires interference to stop using her magic. This pattern suggests that her partnership with Acker is legitimate, despite Jovie’s plan to betray him.

“Does it matter? She is who she is regardless of her name, regardless of her title.”

This assertion that a thing remains the same despite its name constitutes an oblique allusion to the famous line in Act II, Scene 2 of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet: “That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet” (Lines 43-44). This quotation is often held up to mean that names cannot limit or change the true nature of a thing. Ironically, the play doesn’t necessarily uphold this sentiment, as the enmity between the Montague and Capulet families does ultimately have a disastrous effect on the titular characters’ lives. Similarly, Jovie finds that her own name does matter, as her sense of self changes as her relationship with Acker develops and as Acker deliberately invokes her nickname, “Jovie,” compelling her to set aside the name of “Brynn.”

“Beau speaks first. ‘Blood oaths are messy, especially when given under duress. The swearer has to make the promise without prejudice, or it leaves room for gaps within the agreement. They’re not easy to outmaneuver, but it’s not impossible.’”

This information about the way in which blood oaths must be given (and the ways in which they can be circumvented) foreshadows the fact that Acker’s blood oath will render him helpless in the face of Jovie’s duplicity in the novel’s climax. However, the comment about “outmaneuvering” suggests that Acker may find a way to fight back in Light Wielder, the upcoming sequel to Metal Slinger.

“‘I saw what Messer’s father did to him,’ I say, refusing to meet my friend’s stare. ‘I saw the bruises and never did anything about it.’”

The novel suggests that the level of debt owed to friends and allies depends on one’s access to power. Though Jovie is not being entirely honest about forgiving Messer for failing to warn her of Kai’s magical powers of persuasion, Messer does truly forgive Jovie for not seeking to stop his father's abuses, as she was not powerful enough to accomplish this at the time.

“When it comes to men, Jo, it’s best to just assume the worst.”

Beau’s cynical comment claiming that men categorically mistreat women highlights the novel’s focus on injustices that are fueled by misogyny. The revelation at the end of the novel that Edmond, as well as Wren, runs a society based on gender inequality is paired with Beau’s decision to ally with Jovie and betray Acker. Because Acker refuses to recognize his own father’s sexist behavior, Acker does not prove Beau’s assertion wrong—though he does not side with his father so much as against the woman who is actively betraying Edmond.

“As I get further and further into the valley, it opens on one side, revealing a view of rolling green hills that transform into mountains in the distance, white-capped and jagged as they point to the sky. The world, bigger than I ever could have imagined. It’s breathtaking. Moisture coats my eyes as I try to take in every detail.”

Jovie’s depiction of her feelings upon seeing land invokes references to the sublime, a literary device in which writers seek to imitate the overwhelming feelings brought about by extreme sensory experiences, generally those that are inspired by nature. The concept became popular with British Romantic poets, and Jovie’s invocation of a sublime mountain echoes the sentiments of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “Mont Blanc,” one of the poems of the era that is most closely associated with the concept of the sublime.

“‘I don’t trust you,’ I say […]

‘I don’t need you to,’ he says, scrubbing a hand across his mouth. ‘I just need you to trust yourself.’”

At key points, the novel addresses Jovie’s increasing willingness to trust Acker. Because Jovie is the novel’s first-person narrator, this one-sided look at trust does not stand out as unusual since the novel frequently provides glimpses into Jovie’s thoughts rather than Acker’s. However, Jovie’s betrayal at the end of the text is framed as a plot twist, which implies that she is concealing many of her thoughts even from the overt narration of the novel.

“My breath sticks in my lungs as I come to the realization that my own reluctance may be the cause of my bond trying to find ways to close the gap. If it’s true, I will never get a say in the matter. The bond will get what it wants regardless of my objections.”

In romance, the “fated mates” trope refers to a genre convention in which two or more love interests are drawn together by supernatural forces that leave them destined for one another. Here, Jovie struggles with the fact that the dictates of this dynamic override her self-determination. Though she loves Acker, she dislikes the idea that something beyond her own choices might be influencing that love.

“You can never get loving people wrong, Jo. There’s no shame in accepting your feelings for Kai, just like there’s none to be had for accepting them for Acker.”

Beau’s advice that loving people is always advisable is later echoed by her mother, Greta. Both women are framed as Jovie’s allies amid the political intrigue of the novel. However, the narrative casts doubt on this advice in its penultimate chapter, when a flashback reveals that Jovie has always intended to betray Acker. Though Beau knows of Jovie’s plan when she gives the recommendation, the cliffhanger ending of the text does not offer a clear answer as to whether Jovie’s betrayal will ultimately be considered a version of “loving people wrong.”

“As opulent as everything is, I find it all very grotesque.”

Rather than being impressed by the grandeur of the Kenta palace, Jovie finds the excessive aspects of this society horrifying, particularly because she has grown up in the limited straits that all people of Alaha face. Her instinctive reaction to the wealth of Kenta’s elite highlights the novel’s suggestion that such wealth can only come at the cost of someone else’s poverty or lack.

“‘Anything you would like is yours to borrow as long as you promise not to tell anyone. Many of these books are forbidden.’ She winks at me conspiratorially. ‘Which is my favorite kind.’”

Greta’s appreciation for forbidden texts foreshadows the revelation that Kenta is as corrupt, if not more so, than Alaha. While Alaha restricts information (such as maps, which Jovie regularly notes have been redacted), Kenta, too, works to hide the truth of the world from its citizens. This discussion also alludes to modern political conversations about banning books, an act that is commonly associated with corrupt, totalitarian regimes.

“I watch the way they interact, the ease they have with each other, and it makes me miss the comfort of my friends. Kai, or hell, Messer as a freaking bird would be pleasant enough.”

Though Jovie is falling in love with Acker, her increased understanding about the differences between platonic and romantic love reminds her that she misses the familiar love of long friendship. Her reference to Kai also offers a hint that she is not as wounded and betrayed by her friend as she has let Acker believe. This detail foreshadows the revelation that she and Kai have been conspiring together to overthrow both Edmond and Wren.

“‘If she’s anything like my mother, she’s planning and plotting how to break you out of here,’ [Beau] says.”

Jovie’s mother, the Queen of Maile, is a mysterious figure in the novel. Jovie sees her only once in a brief vision. The Maile queen’s reputation in Kenta is also unclear; Acker believes that she can be a powerful ally, but Edmond sees her as unstable and unreliable, an attitude that is implied to be connected to his own ingrained misogyny. However, the novel hints at the benevolence of Jovie’s mother by portraying communities of women as sources of powerful allies.

“There’s a tale of two Heirs who were gifted the ability to become one body during battles. Two heads, four arms and legs, and the ability to see all around them at the same time.”

This explanation of bonded Heirs’ power alludes to Plato’s Symposium, in which he presents a myth of soulmates as two halves of the same whole, who were separated by the gods because of their overabundant power. This reference implies that Acker and Jovie may find that they have greater power together in the next installment in the series. The narrative also suggests that the “matched bond” idea is synonymous with the real-world concept of “soulmates.”

“Every gain of wealth and power comes at a cost. It chips away at your soul a little each time. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

When Greta, Beau’s mother, gives Jovie this warning, it is clearly meant to be interpreted as a warning about Acker, as Jovie’s duplicity has not yet been revealed. However, once the text shows that Jovie has been plotting to use Acker in order to overthrow Edmond, this comment has multiple resonances. It serves as a warning to Jovie of what may happen to her own soul when she takes control of Maile and possibly of Kenta. It also foreshadows that the disempowered Alaha is not the true antagonist in the book. Instead, the powerful realm of Kenta (and its centuries-long ruler) harbors great power that has led to widespread malevolence.