Raybearer is a beautifully written, thoughtfully woven story that only further astounds once you realize that it’s author Jordan Ifueko’s debut novel. Start to finish, every aspect of this novel is absolutely brilliant: from its sweeping fantasy setting to its myriad of unique and diverse characters and its riveting story… right down to the incredible way that story is told, following an African folklore tradition that is amplified to an enthralling point if you listen to it in its audiobook format (which I wholeheartedly recommend). This novel is nothing short of an experience—it starts kind of tame with the set up, but then plunges you straight into a non-stop emotional rollercoaster, which meant that the story was lingering in my mind whenever I wasn’t reading it and stuck with me for quite some time after I finished.
There is really so much to talk about here. First off, in reference to what I mentioned about the method of storytelling, it’s quite notable in the way it pays homage to the oral tradition of storytelling despite being a written novel. There are short songs and children’s rhymes throughout the novel, serving to emphasize and draw to the forefront the culture of the various regions we explore in the book, as well as bringing to light the tradition of its people. The rhythmic writing is also reflected in the sounding out of drum beats and footsteps, among other pulsing sound effects, that drive the style of storytelling home and breathe life into the story. The audiobook’s narrator, Joniece Abott-Pratt, does such an absolutely phenomenal job at telling the story and enunciating the pounding, rhythmic aspects of the story that it feels so real while you’re listening to it. Along with the writing being beautiful in its prose, it is difficult not to be pulled in from the very beginning despite the fact that you go into it with no knowledge of the setting or the characters. Which is quite the feat—some fantasy novels fail at being interesting when they spend so much time setting up the worldbuilding of the story. The unique background of the protagonist, Tarisai, makes for a measured introduction into the world of Raybearer without being bogged down by jargon in an attempt to have the reader understand everything before launching into the story. Indeed, in some fantasy series, the first book exists solely to set up the following novels, and it shows in a way that sometimes puts you off the book entirely. Ifueko masterfully avoids subjecting her readers to a similar fate, in an inexplicable way that can only be described as the product of a skilled novelist. She sets up an epic fantasy adventure without compromising the first installment. The worldbuilding is phenomenal and could be likened to experienced writers like NK Jemisin (who is probably my favourite fantasy writer).
Besides the writing style itself, there are other notable African inspirations within the novel, with its emphasis on ancestral reverence, diversified Black and Brown communities with varying cultures and traditions, and an absolutely unashamed female protagonist who is the literal epitome of the phrase “Black girl magic.” Tarisai is a brilliant and strong protagonist if there ever was one. She is compassionate to a point where she is often shrugged off as naive, but that doesn’t stop her from pursuing a better world for everyone. She was dealt an unfortunate hand in childhood, in a way that would seemingly settle her future, but with every step she takes, she deliberately forsakes the sinister path set out for her. Tarisai is a strong character who refuses to be anyone’s puppet despite being put in many situations where it would be easier to do so. Even when the law tells her to be submissive and subservient, she questions unfair social constructs like patriarchy, class inequality, and racial inequality, when most others are complacent (a girl after my own heart). She breaks out of the toxic and abusive expectations placed on her and challenges every unfair rule set up to stifle her. And as she grows, she beautifully and against all odds starts to find worth in herself and forms her own family when all is stacked against her. You can’t help rooting for her and her friends. Each and every character you meet is well established and unique in their own right. I admittedly have a hard time following when there are large ensemble casts, but each character was so unique and distinguished that it wasn’t difficult to follow along. Each one has their own distinct outlook of the world, and it shows in just how they speak and hold themselves. It is an incredible feat of writing, once again considering that this is Ifueko’s debut!
“Uniformity is not unity. Silence is not peace.”
The book also hits a lot of difficult subjects, which makes it an emotional experience from start to finish. One of the most incredible aspects of this book, especially considering the fact that it is a YA novel, is its absolute refusal to paint the world or any of its characters in black and white. Each character is unequivocally grey and seems to contradict or act against whatever assumptions you as the reader may originally make about them. It makes you question your assumptions at the same time that Tarisai makes everyone around her do the same. It also means that the story, from start to finish, never quite goes where you think it’ll go, and there are so many twists and turns, serving to keep you committed the whole way through. There’s so much more to the story than you would originally think, and as much as your first instinct is to hate one character and love another, the novel strives to make you reassess these impulses. With a focus on heavy topics, such as socio-economic and racial inequality, wealth disparity, power dynamics, political corruption, and ethnic strife (and an injustice inherent in many political systems where there is any one group ruling for generations over others), this novel makes you think critically about the moral and political structures in the real world as you follow Tarisai and her absolute refusal to live without complaint in such a wholly unjust state. There is quite the social commentary, and it refuses to let up even into the second book.
“Do not ask how many people you will save. Ask, to what world will you save them? […] What world, Wuraola, is worth surviving in?”
