Kushiel's Dart
13) Kushiel's Dart, by Jacqueline Carey, 901 pages
Before anyone asks, no, my screen name did not come from this book, but rather from the mythology that Carey obviously studied diligently in order to create her own. This is my first time reading this series, and the irony of having chosen "Naamah" as my performance name, given my tastes and attitudes, is not lost on me. After reading this book, I am no longer annoyed that people kept telling me to read it, and sometimes did not believe me when I said I had not.
Now, on to the review.
Though touted as dark, edgy erotic fantasy, and lauded as "unsettling" and "shocking," even "difficult," I found this book to be tasteful, well-written, and entirely gratifying.
Provocative, yes. Shocking, not really.
I am willing to concede that because of my own proclivities both in real life and as a writer, I'm pretty unflappable. I write bondage porn. Tastefully-rendered bondage sex is not going to bother me.
What did surprise me was not the sex itself, but the fact that it was not treated as tawdry shock-fodder. It is treated as something beautiful, as a gift. Even the more outlandish practices are seen in an accepting light. And I think that is what shocks people; what is even more surprising than the content itself, is what it implies: sex is sacred. In today's world of restricted birth control and increased censorship, such a declaration is anathema, and does indeed have power to startle and frighten, especially when the setting is a world flavored with such a delicious blend of paganism and Christian myth. Anytime you mix the two, people are bound to find their cages rattled.
Kushiel's Dart is certainly dark, and in places it is quite erotic, but the focus is never on the sex. I have read far tamer books that went into far greater detail, and with less justification. For all the darkness and sensuality of the world and the concept, Carey keeps things remarkably low-key and tasteful; so much so that my inner pornographer nearly went into an apoplexy of frustration at several points. More detail would, in fact, have been welcome.
As a storyteller, Carey doesn't miss a trick.
The world is beautiful, from the myths to the land itself, and her revision of myth and history has me aching for the beautiful thing Christianity could have been if only it had embraced its pagan roots instead of seeking to amputate them. That's a rant for another time, though, and I don't want to debate it here. Suffice it to say that, even as a profoundly non-Christian person, I found her alternate mythology deeply moving and meaningful.
Carey's prose is even and thoughtful, and the narrative is precisely-paced and fluent. Though the novel is told in first-person, this doesn't seem to limit Carey. She makes it fit the story like a glove, and in the few places where the story runs afoul of the limitations of one viewpoint, Carey dances around it with incredible grace and deftness. As a technical accomplishment in a 900-page novel, this is no mean feat.
Phèdre is a fascinating character, and she is not alone in the memorable cast.
The story itself is all I could have wished. Subtle, intelligent, complex, and epic. I also have to breathe a heavy sigh of relief . . . there are no nonhuman races in this book, and no identifiable character classes. It is a rarity, now, to read anything not influenced by Tolkien or by Dungeons and Dragons (much as I love both), and yet here is a book that is solely its own. All fiction, all art, is derivative of its influences, but here is such uniqueness that those influences are all but invisible; the story is seamless, smooth. Neither erotica nor romance take center stage, here. This is a novel of intrigue, with a worthy heroine and a worthy adversary, and very few cut-and-dried villains. Of such shades of black and white is excellent fiction made.
While much of it is intrigue and espionage, it does not lack for punch. Carey finds clever and unique ways of doing the battle scenes justice even when her protagonist does not fight from the front lines, and while unconventional because of this, her handling of the final battle scene is utterly satisfying.
In addition, it is rare to see an author who not only doesn't fumble an ending, but actually takes the time to give a long novel and an epic story the ending it deserves. Carey took her time, gave each character and storyline the proper respect, tied things up, and left just enough thread hanging to hook us into the next book. Masterfully done.
I would put this up there with the finest fantasy fiction I have ever read, and if the rest of the series holds true, it will rightly be remembered as a classic. For its genre, it is almost perfect and even considered outside of it, it is still well-turned and praiseworthy.
link
Before anyone asks, no, my screen name did not come from this book, but rather from the mythology that Carey obviously studied diligently in order to create her own. This is my first time reading this series, and the irony of having chosen "Naamah" as my performance name, given my tastes and attitudes, is not lost on me. After reading this book, I am no longer annoyed that people kept telling me to read it, and sometimes did not believe me when I said I had not.
Now, on to the review.
Though touted as dark, edgy erotic fantasy, and lauded as "unsettling" and "shocking," even "difficult," I found this book to be tasteful, well-written, and entirely gratifying.
Provocative, yes. Shocking, not really.
I am willing to concede that because of my own proclivities both in real life and as a writer, I'm pretty unflappable. I write bondage porn. Tastefully-rendered bondage sex is not going to bother me.
What did surprise me was not the sex itself, but the fact that it was not treated as tawdry shock-fodder. It is treated as something beautiful, as a gift. Even the more outlandish practices are seen in an accepting light. And I think that is what shocks people; what is even more surprising than the content itself, is what it implies: sex is sacred. In today's world of restricted birth control and increased censorship, such a declaration is anathema, and does indeed have power to startle and frighten, especially when the setting is a world flavored with such a delicious blend of paganism and Christian myth. Anytime you mix the two, people are bound to find their cages rattled.
Kushiel's Dart is certainly dark, and in places it is quite erotic, but the focus is never on the sex. I have read far tamer books that went into far greater detail, and with less justification. For all the darkness and sensuality of the world and the concept, Carey keeps things remarkably low-key and tasteful; so much so that my inner pornographer nearly went into an apoplexy of frustration at several points. More detail would, in fact, have been welcome.
As a storyteller, Carey doesn't miss a trick.
The world is beautiful, from the myths to the land itself, and her revision of myth and history has me aching for the beautiful thing Christianity could have been if only it had embraced its pagan roots instead of seeking to amputate them. That's a rant for another time, though, and I don't want to debate it here. Suffice it to say that, even as a profoundly non-Christian person, I found her alternate mythology deeply moving and meaningful.
Carey's prose is even and thoughtful, and the narrative is precisely-paced and fluent. Though the novel is told in first-person, this doesn't seem to limit Carey. She makes it fit the story like a glove, and in the few places where the story runs afoul of the limitations of one viewpoint, Carey dances around it with incredible grace and deftness. As a technical accomplishment in a 900-page novel, this is no mean feat.
Phèdre is a fascinating character, and she is not alone in the memorable cast.
The story itself is all I could have wished. Subtle, intelligent, complex, and epic. I also have to breathe a heavy sigh of relief . . . there are no nonhuman races in this book, and no identifiable character classes. It is a rarity, now, to read anything not influenced by Tolkien or by Dungeons and Dragons (much as I love both), and yet here is a book that is solely its own. All fiction, all art, is derivative of its influences, but here is such uniqueness that those influences are all but invisible; the story is seamless, smooth. Neither erotica nor romance take center stage, here. This is a novel of intrigue, with a worthy heroine and a worthy adversary, and very few cut-and-dried villains. Of such shades of black and white is excellent fiction made.
While much of it is intrigue and espionage, it does not lack for punch. Carey finds clever and unique ways of doing the battle scenes justice even when her protagonist does not fight from the front lines, and while unconventional because of this, her handling of the final battle scene is utterly satisfying.
In addition, it is rare to see an author who not only doesn't fumble an ending, but actually takes the time to give a long novel and an epic story the ending it deserves. Carey took her time, gave each character and storyline the proper respect, tied things up, and left just enough thread hanging to hook us into the next book. Masterfully done.
I would put this up there with the finest fantasy fiction I have ever read, and if the rest of the series holds true, it will rightly be remembered as a classic. For its genre, it is almost perfect and even considered outside of it, it is still well-turned and praiseworthy.
link