America is lined up somewhere before the party, anxious and bouncing around, and apparently this is wrong and she has to stand perfectly still.  Not sure why.  They’re not in public, but just waiting in the company of staff and guards.  And yet…she’s not allowed to move anywhere?  Why?

Because angst, that’s why.  I mean, she doesn’t have enough of it yet, so why not throw on some more just for funzies.

They’re all lined up waiting for their families to arrive.  America runs out to greet her family and all end up on the floor crying.  Yeah.  On the floor.  Crying.

Being emotional on meeting your parents again for the first time in months (weeks?) is one thing, but this is ridiculous in its extremity.  And it’s not like she left under harsh circumstances or like they don’t know what’s been going on with her.  They see her on the news every week, and she’s had phone calls and letters.  Imagine someone greeting their parents after their first semester at college and acting like this.  You’d be side-eyeing them pretty hard, yes?

Fuck, the closest I’ve seen to anyone getting this worked up is after a deployment.  …well, actually, if the attacks on the palace had been portrayed a bit more consistently, this might have worked.  She’s in danger.  But when no one seems to remember that from one moment to the next (or care when they do remember), then it’s hard to really give it proper credence.

Her mom gets the usual crappy treatment, with America being shocked (SHOCKED! I tell you) that Magda didn’t immediately go into conniving social-climber mode.

Maxon shows up to greet everyone.  After he moves on to talk to other families, Magda is confused.

 “What does he mean, he expected enthusiasm from us?”  Mom demanded in a low whisper.  “Is this because you yelled at him when you met?  You haven’t been doing that again, have you?” 

I sighed.  “Actually, Mom, we argue pretty regularly.” 

What?”  She gaped at me.  “Well, stop it!” 

“Oh, and I kneed him in the groin once.”

So, let’s take a moment to talk about privilege.  This is a strict caste system where people are punished with whippings and imprisonment.  It’s heavily implied that the prince can ask for illegal sex and not get punished for it.  Even in a more progressive monarchy, disrespect to the royals can still carry with it stiff penalties, and one would expect that in a situation like this, punishment would be even more strict and severe. 

In short, the only reason America isn’t in a prison cell right now is because her attitude amuses Maxon.  Now, that’s all well and good of him to not abuse his power, but here’s the thing about privilege: he could change his mind at any moment.  He still has that power, even if he doesn’t use it.  The unfair part of privilege isn’t that a person is using it to their advantage, but that they can.  America’s freedom is entirely dependent on his tolerance, not any sense of justice or fair law. 

But Magda is being shown as overly uptight and unreasonable for being aghast that her daughter is insulting the prince.  Even though she is the one that actually has the proper reaction.  But the book seems to have completely forgotten the society it set up and acts like Maxon is just a normal person who happens to have a lot of money.

The whole family even laughs harder when she says “Please tell me you’re joking.  Tell me you didn’t assault the prince.” because “the word assault pushed [them] all over the edge.”  Yeah, so funny, right?  I mean, surely a place that has people rigidly kept in poverty would have due process and equal treatment under law, so it’s not like there’s anything to be scared of, right?

  No, of course not, and Magda’s such a square!  Har, har!

Ugh.

 Dad wasn’t a rebel, out burning houses or anything.  But I knew he was unhappy with the way things were run.  What if his issues with the government extended to Maxon?  What if he said I shouldn’t marry him?

Well, then Dad would be shit out of luck, because I’m pretty sure it’s out of his hands.

In fact, the way things were set up, I’m pretty sure it’s out of America’s hands, too.  Remember, the first book called her property of the state, and Maxon is the fucking prince.  Supposedly, all he has to do is point and say “you” and he gets the girl. 

And, what, do you not have any problems with the government, America?  Maxon is part of the system that keeps your brother from getting to go to science camp; are you just chill with that as long as he’s hot?

Where is her brother?  We haven’t had mention of him yet this book.

Then it’s time for everyone to get escorted to their rooms, and May pitches a fit because she wants to stay with America in her room.  (Also, yeah, it’s confirmed.  Little brother isn’t there.)  America is all “ugh, little sister, so annoying.”  What about all that crying mess before, brat?  Did that exuberance and need to see your family just disappear?  But America agrees anyway.

Later, America and her dad chat about her lessons, and we get another rundown of the utterly brain-bashing excuse for history.  But I covered that in the last book.  Also another mention of the fact that history is only passed orally instead of being written, which still makes no sense. 

 “Maxon told me that right before the fourth world war people hardly had anything.” 

“He’s right.  It’s part of why the caste system is so unfair.  No one had much to offer in the way of help in the first place, which is why so many people ended up in the lower castes.”

…fuck, you just really don’t understand caste systems, do you book?

First of all there’s no way this gets set up this way.  There’s no way that a system gets set up from scratch by saying “if you have money, we’ll give you power and ensure all your kids have it too.  And if you don’t, screw you, go dig in the dirt.”  Yes, that happens, but it evolves over time.  You don’t get to set it up that way, because then the majority of the people in the country say “Um, no, face stabbing time.”

Second, the whole point of a caste system is to subjugate a majority of the population.  That is literally the point of it.  You don’t set up a caste system and then say “oops, most of you ended up at the bottom, what a funny little quirk.”  That is literally the dumbest thing this book has said yet.

They talk more about pointless stuff that goes nowhere, and then America suddenly blurts out about Maxon’s secret room of books.  He gets weirdly excited about the fact that she has one of Gregory Illea’s diaries.  Anyone want to take bets on how soon the rebels attack and find the room of books this time?

America goes back to her room and overhears May and Lucy talking about Lucy’s old lover.  This chapter sure jumps around a lot.  The text just jumps around from one conversation to the next, and most of it is fluff.  Not even worth summarizing. 

America gets a letter from her older brother, Kota, who is upset at being left out.  Well, at least he finally mentions little brother.  Apparently Gerad was “too young” to travel to the palace.  Not sure why; he’s like 8 or 10 or something.

I had hoped Kota might be getting over his caste climbing and learn to be content with the success he had.  No such luck, it seemed.

But…why would he?  Caste is such a huge part of your society.  Maybe Kota hates sculpting and his driving desire in life is to be a movie star, but he can’t unless he buys up.  Why would he suddenly stop?  And why do you scoff at him as if caste and class are the same thing? 

They all go off to have tea with the queen.  While there, May pulls America away to look out the window, where their father and Maxon are having a conversation.  Apparently this is important, because the text makes it clear this is important, but…it’s just a friendly-but-intense conversation in the garden.

This is not the way to build tension.  There’s no context for this little bit, so we have no reason to think that it means anything.  We know it’s important because we’re told so, but we don’t know what kind of important.  We don’t have a context or a reason to care.  It’s just a thing, hanging here, and does nothing to help our understanding of events.  It doesn’t even invite us to wonder what’s going on, because we have no hints about what it might lead to.  It’s just…there.