Touching Allegories in 'The Tomb of Dragons'

Katherine Addison shines a discerning light on her world and our own

Mirrored Reflections

Part of the reason I first became enamored with speculative fiction and later started this blog was simply my wonder at recognizing the powerful societal morals and messages these stories so often offer.

Watching lots of Star Trek at a young age probably helped send me down this path; I remember my dad asking my sister and me if we understood the underlying message of one particular episode, which we did, though I'm not sure how true that was of many.

Later, as I was learning about class consciousness, I was deeply struck by the inhuman avarice and apathy of institutions like Tessier-Ashpool (Neuromancer), Weyland-Yutani (Alien) and Tyrell Corporation (Blade Runner) – all greater, systemic antagonists than the small villains standing in the protagonists' way.

As I've said many times before, speculative fiction is built on this principle of exploring real world ideas through a new lens. And while listening to Katherine Addison's newly released The Tomb of Dragons, I learned even more respect for authors who are able to convey these ideas so well. (Spoilers for the novel below.)

Evoking Life

I think part of what makes Addison's writing so compelling to me is how grounded she keeps her world and her characters' perspectives. In The Goblin Emperor, Maya was raised without expectations and maintained a sense of justice and humility even on ascending to the most powerful position in the world. Thara Celehar likewise rarely looks beyond the bare necessities of his life, despite being an incredibly gifted priest and investigator.

The Tomb of Dragons sees Celehar dealing with a host of new issues on top of a few lingering ones from The Grief of Stones, and it's tough to find any that lack analogues to our own lives and world. First, a couple personal ones:

A major development from the previous book was the loss of his ability to commune with the dead; a deep personal injury and threatening to his ability to maintain his profession. Both his fraught journey to accepting the loss and his catharsis at eventually finding his abilities (divinely?) restored are emotional and relatable – you wouldn't believe how many times I've worried I've lost my interest in reading, only to realize it's the book and not me (somehow twice this week, between physical and audio books).

Later, overwhelmed by inner and outer conflicts, Celehar suddenly demands to know the intentions of his friend Iäna Pel-Thenhior. Fans had certainly painted their relationship as leading toward romantic, and Iäna's kindness and generosity (though not alone among his friends) seemed to be leading Celehar to similar assumptions. Iäna confirms that he only wants to be friends and Celehar is relieved; he's also stealthily developed a (reciprocated) crush on a new character in this book. It's a simple scene and slightly awkward, but it's the kind of important real life communication we need to see represented more in media.

Dragon Skull, by Guilhem Venezia

A Harsh World

I've mentioned previously that Addison has a certain dark humour in portraying the grim practicality of her world; Celehar's magical ability to communicate with the dead is mostly employed to help locate and litigate the deceased's wills, for example.

The Tomb of Dragons leans into this by following in the footsteps of all those stories I discussed above: the second time we hear about mythical dragons in this series, it is to learn that they were all but exterminated 120 years ago by the Clenverada Mining Company on their way to seeking out and securing the richest mineral veins. Not only did this violate a treaty, but the Company's "dragon slaying" was accomplished by simply flooding the dragons' mountain tunnels with gas.

It's a brutal revelation that evokes our own history of colonization and ecological destruction. How many lives have been snuffed out in our world because someone else wanted to make a buck? This grim image is only strengthened by the fact that Celehar is kidnapped and brought to the Tomb by a new, desperate band of miners trying to earn a living off of the already picked-clean mountain, but who are suffering losses to the undead dragon spirit Ithalpherix – hungry for revenge after seeing her people slaughtered.

Celehar accepts the dragon's petition to seek justice for the victims, in the form of restitutions from the still prosperous and influential Clenverada. Thanks to past acquaintance he is able to secure an audience with the Emperor (it was so damn great to see Maya again!), but even ignoring their influence he is wary of the economic repercussions of so many Clenverada employees being let go.

Ultimately, justice is only possible because the Clenverada had also been implicated in supporting an attempted coup – Maya is able to seize the Company on behalf of the imperial crown and thereby personally see to meeting Ithalpherix' demands. Political and corporate corruption going hand in hand? Now that's pure fantasy.

And Many More

The scene with Maya sees him and Celehar traversing the imperial vaults, and it is striking to see that Maya has thus far been unaware of what an absurd amount of material wealth is technically his as emperor, but is practically useless: he has an entire floor of carriages gifted to the emperors over the years, none of which can be sold, gifted or returned for fear of offending the original donors or their descendants. The same is true for all kinds of artwork and furniture. I think this is a beautifully apt image of how wealth and power beget more wealth and power to ridiculous excess; albeit in our world there's nothing stopping the 1% actually putting their stagnant funds to actual use.

Before being kidnapped, Celehar is assigned to investigate why a cemetery hasn't been able to accommodate new burials for years. I'll spare you the bureaucratic hell he encounters on his way to solving the problem, but believe me when I say it is genuinely aggravating. At the centre of the web is a decades-dead assistant literally buried in paperwork for a cemetery that can't take more bodies... so again I'll praise Addison for her creative imagery.

There's another couple side plots that I've somehow completely avoided – the Clenverada try pretty hard to murder Celehar before he can testify on behalf of the dragons, for one – but I'll leave it there for now. I love how Addison manages to tackle so many important issues while maintaining such brilliant quality to her writing; the tragedy of the dragons in particular will stick with me for a long time, and already has me thinking more about our own responsibilities toward past victims.

Are there any books/authors that have helped you come to similar realizations? Would love to hear about them!

Thanks for reading and until next time <3