62 pages • 2 hours read
Mark LawrenceThe Book That Wouldn't Burn
Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2023A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Themes
The Transformative Power of Fiction
While the library contains countless volumes of fiction, they are disproportionately ignored in favor of nonfiction texts in their translation and spread. Characters like Arpix believe that this quirk of the library exists because fiction, by virtue of not being “fact,” inherently has less value. However, the real reason is that the king and his supporters wanted to suppress dissenting ideas within the kingdom. When talking to Arpix about the subject, Livira asserts, “A story is new. It can capture something as large as the spirit of the age or as small as the emotion of a man watching the last leaf fall from a tree, or sometimes both, and make one a reflection of the other” (230). Thus, Mark Lawrence firmly establishes the philosophy that fiction represents freedom for those reading and writing it and can be used to explore complex, imaginative, or outright subversive ideas that challenge the status quo.
Fiction also holds a different kind of truth than nonfiction, and Lawrence explores this idea through Livira’s relationship with literature and storytelling. One of Livira’s main traits is her near-photographic memory, which allows her to retain and access information that others would forget. However, as even she notes, “Her memory was essentially infallible as far as facts were concerned, but emotion had a tendency to dry like ink and cease to glisten” (301). The Book That Wouldn’t Burn therefore becomes a meditation on memory and identity, with fiction acting as the medium through which these elements are preserved and explored. For Livira, her writing allows her to document her growth and understanding of the world in a way that captures the essence of her experience. The book that she creates from her scattered thoughts and stories becomes an extension of herself and her hopes, fears, and dreams. This dynamic illustrates the reciprocal nature of fiction, for while it shapes those who engage with it, it is also shaped by readers’ experiences and perspectives.
The fact that Evar and Livira are ultimately united through a book of fiction shows the unifying power of stories in a world divided by war, prejudice, and misunderstanding. While the stories were primarily written for Livira herself, they become a lifeline for Evar as well, offering him companionship and a sense of purpose in his otherwise isolated existence. Many stories feature adventures that they would never experience together in reality, but they are able to do so via the Mechanism. Thus, through these stories, Livira and Evar form a connection that transcends time or space. They are together before they meet in person, after they part ways, and within the liminal space that exists beyond reality itself. The author’s choice to forge this looping, complex connection between the two lead characters shows that stories are not static artifacts but living entities, constantly evolving as they are read, shared, and reinterpreted.
The Political Impact of Censorship
Knowledge is guarded, filtered, and sometimes outright hidden from the populace in The Book That Wouldn’t Burn. Access to information is manipulated and restricted by those in power through censorship and the deliberate organization or disorganization of the library’s contents, and Livira ultimately becomes a subversive element within this rigidly controlled system.
The library is a repository of all knowledge, but it is tightly controlled by the hierarchy of librarians. They choose who can access knowledge and what type of information is accessible at all. The position of head librarian is so coveted that whoever holds this position alters the library index to hide and manipulate information, thereby maintaining their control. As Arpix tells Livira, “Without the index the library becomes unusable […] [E]ach new librarian who gets control knows that in order to keep it they need to change the index so that their knowledge becomes indispensable” (144). By keeping the index closely guarded, the head librarian guards his or her own safety from threats within the organization, as well as external threats, such as the king. On top of this, the library itself restricts information by making certain chambers accessible only to certain species, while other chambers can only be opened by guides or assistants.
Similarly, the information allowed to leave the library is also tightly controlled, and whole categories of literature are entirely discounted. Histories and practical sciences are translated and the information disseminated, but books of fiction are neglected or outright scorned. The censorship of fiction, in particular, shows a society-wide fear of divergent thinking, as new ideas could potentially threaten the rigid status quo. The king therefore perpetuates revisionist history in the kingdom by suppressing any narratives that could undermine the existing social or political structure. In several instances, Livira encounters texts or ideas that contradict official historical accounts about the “dusters” or canith. Because the king actively controls the narratives about the history of these groups, it is impossible for society to see beyond these xenophobic portrayals. Lacking a more balanced perspective, the residents of Crath City perpetuate attitudes of fear and hatred toward any group perceived as “other,” and the suppression of history creates a people who cannot learn from their past even as their technological progress accelerates wildly.
A central irony in the novel is that despite the library’s endless knowledge and the technology that is built as a result, the tight control of information prevents humanity from actually improving itself. Although some information is allowed to be shared beyond the library’s boundaries, the most essential elements of history are kept hidden. Due to this censorship, the people cannot rise from ignorance or learn from their history and are doomed to repeat a perpetual loop of destruction, wherein the same mistakes lead to the same consequences, over and over again.
The Dangers of Xenophobia
The theme of xenophobia weaves an insidious thread through the novel, shaping characters’ perceptions, actions, and conflicts. This issue extends beyond individual prejudice and becomes ingrained in the cultural psyche, stemming from historical conflicts and inherited fear. The main example is the animosity that inspires new violence between the humans and the canith. The canith, a race with wolf-like features, are regarded as “sabbers” by humans, a derogatory term meaning “enemy,” and the canith characterize humans using the same term. Both groups act as invaders and destroyers to one another, perpetuating cycles of death and violence, and the library itself reflects these tensions on a macrocosmic scale. As a repository of countless civilizations’ knowledge, the library contains evidence of the triumphs and atrocities of every species that has walked its corridors. However, instead of fostering greater cross-species understanding, this shared history exacerbates existing divisions because each group selectively remembers only its own grievances. Most notably, the period in which humans and canith briefly shared the city and lived together peacefully is now lost to time and remembered only by those who witnessed it firsthand. In Livira’s present, the false narrative supported by the king asserts that the canith are subhuman creatures who are capable only of violence and are driven by a primal need to destroy. This reductionist view, which is strategically reinforced by selective historical accounts, causes human society to view the canith as mere obstacles rather than as people with their own motivations and culture.
The cycle of violence that arises from this mindset proves to be self-perpetuating, for the more that each group marginalizes and attacks the people they see as “sabbers,” the more retaliatory actions occur, and this pattern in turn provokes further xenophobia. One of the main examples used to illustrate the danger of this cyclical violence can be found in Clovis’s relentless drive for revenge. Having lost her family and community to an attack by the humans, she harbors an intense hatred for them that prevents her from understanding the broader picture. Her hatred has been hardened by trauma and unchecked by empathy, and this emotion becomes her defining trait. Ironically, in her desire for vengeance, she mirrors the very violence she condemns. While Livira’s hatred is not as intense as Clovis’s, her view of the canith is shaped by the loss of her aunt and most of her village to a canith-led attack. For this reason, her realization that Evar is a canith shocks her deeply, while Evar takes the revelation of her humanity in stride.
While the novel acts as a cautionary tale, warning against unchecked fear and prejudice, it also offers a path forward, for Livira and Evar’s relationship represents the possibility of bridging divides through empathy and mutual understanding. Xenophobia, if left unchallenged, has the power to consume entire societies, stripping people of empathy, compassion, and reason. However, because Livira and Evar’s bond is built on shared experiences and a willingness to see each other as people, the narrative suggests that the antidote to xenophobia is not assimilation or erasure but recognition and mutual respect of differences. Empathy, open-mindedness, and a willingness to question authority become the keys to breaking the cycle of hatred.
