When I was at page 171 of this book, I wrote in Goodreads:
Very lush, rich, delicious. Like staying in a five-star hotel in a foreign country.
I rated it four stars then. So why the drop?
It's a bit silly, but I'll try to explain. See, there was this scene in page 211 where our intrepid mini-heroine/scarychild Raven has to brave a body of water filled with sharks, and here's what she excitedly thought (as narrated): What if she conquered the voracious mammals? If she survived, nothing could ever stand in her way.
I admit I looked for mammals in the scene. I found some humans. And some other humans. The only other living creatures in the scene were, well, the voracious sharks. So ooookay... So.
So, Fifth Grader Fact of the Day: sharks are fish. I know they look more like dolphins or whales, but here's the deal. They lay eggs. Have cartilage. Also, gills. I tried asking Google if ancient Persians somehow conceived of sharks as mammalian, but Google was all like: Um, I don't think so.
God, I hate it when books I like contain silly errors like this. It catapults me out of the story like a frog out of boiling water.
And as much as I didn't want to do it, that particular word set me to thinking, So what if there are other inaccuracies? What if some of that wonderful, exotic verbiage I've been rolling around in like a deliriously happy feline in a bed of catnip is actually factually wrong?
It made me question everything. And I hate having to do that in a book.
Especially one that clicked with me as this one did.
Because really, I still loved most of it. I loved the brave and beautiful eunuch Hazel-Boy, with his silvery curls and green eyes and utter lack of a mean bone anywhere in his body (he also lacked screentime, sigh). I loved the fact that the Shah exuded an intoxicating and addictive smell of black roses, and had trained his falcons to respond to the beat of his heart. I loved Gold Dust's singing bones, and Rebekah's shameless way of walking into a room and turning it into an event about her. I loved the prose, the sensuality, the decadence, and the intricate dance of parent-and-child, lover-and-lover. I loved the bold and brilliant milieu, the bouquet of religions and blasphemies, the carefully placed dabs of horror, and the overlaying of myth and truth and perception. (And if I understood the old Persian (and current Iranian?) cultural outlook better, I'd probably have enjoyed it even more.)
Also, the scene where the Shah's fabulous falcons traced curly arabesques in the air and ended up stooping to pluck out the eyes of his enemies? Just love.
This is harem fantasy and magic realism and historical pastiche and grand old fairytale melodrama at their very best. It's the sort of thing that could make me swoon.
But the thing is, for exquisite concoctions of moondust and imagination like this, you have to Believe. And like I said, something made me stop Believing. And so I started asking myself annoying questions like "Why don't we see Honey and Gold Dust's relationship developed to the point where we could understand Honey's devotion to Gold Dust?" And "Why the heck would the foreign conqueror visit a whore in the city that he planned to conquer before he conquered it?" Wasn't that in the Evil Overlord List somewhere? Talk about begging to have your weaknesses found out and used against you by the current administration.
This sort of questioning is way too literal, and is not the way that this text is meant to be read. But that's how I ended up reading it, and I've got to be true to my own experience. I mean, it's a personal review, not a professional critique.
Anyway, if you end up reading this before buying the book, I hope you find yourself forewarned. Don't focus too much on the mammalian sharks. Come to it ready to be filled with wonder, and gorgeous sights, and really very sexy men and women and you will enjoy yourself, guaranteed.