A very weak 3-star. Unfortunately, this seems to be when I admit that P. Djèlí Clark isn't for me.
The premise of this book was enticing. An undead assassin, pulled into a bizarre assignment that evoked a memory of her past which shouldn't exist. Mysteries and unlikely paradoxes ensue, and the fast-moving plot is peppered with humorous dialogues and lots of action. It sounds exactly like the type of book that should keep a reader turning the pages, but ... how come such a theoretically perfect story turned out so boring for me that I really had to push to not dnf?
My biggest issue was the characters. I didn't care about any of them, which made the tension and suspense completely a lost cause. Every character felt like an intricately carved-out and beautifully dressed puppet that had no life of its own (which is funnily ironic, since the main character here happens to be actually undead... but I got rather the same feeling from the dead djinn universe, so alas, I'm inclined to believe that this is simply Clark's style). It is not to say that the characters are flat, however -- it's obvious how much meticulous attention was paid to every detail from physical appearance and clothing to quirks and mannerisms, no matter how minor the character -- but being detailed seems very different from being alive in this case. They felt too detached, giving us very few glimpses into what they were thinking or feeling, which made their personalities come out shallow and emotions nonexistent. As a result, I couldn't connect to any of them and genuinely didn't care if all of them died, which made the whole action-packed plot lose its charm.
The worldbuilding also bothered me a little. Which, again, is ironic, because I absolutely love expansive worldbuilding in fantasies, and Clark is good at exactly that. The city and the carnival in the background of the story were painted with striking vividity, much like the feast to the senses that they're supposed to be in the tale. But ... once again, beautiful as those descriptions were, I found it hard to feel fascinated enough to care. Unlike clockwork Cairo, this world felt too mundane. There were parades at the carnival that threw coins at spectators, much like Mardi Gras in New Orleans. There were gondolas ferrying tourists around in the canals, much like Venice. There were partying crowds coating everyone in colored powders, much like Holi in India. None of these felt special enough to evoke a sense of otherworldly wonder for me, and that somewhat defeated the purpose of reading fantasy.
I also found it a bit annoying to trod through every little detail of people's clothing, no matter how minor the character or how commonplace their attire. Someone tugs at their brown breeches tucked into black boots; someone brushes over their white shirt fastened by a gold belt; etc. I get it, it's textural details, but it comes off an awful lot like those chick lit books that can go on for a whole page about some cashmere sweater. On the contrary, things that could've been more interesting, such as the culture of this world and the magic, were not focused on nearly enough. I did like the ending where certain scenes involving a goddess finally satisfied the escapist in me, but for the vast majority of the book, the detailed worldbuilding was just drowning in mundane specifics, which took away the appeal of all that descriptive writing.
I will admit though that Clark's writing is highly polished and evocative in the sensory department, and I see why so many people like it. The plot was also tightly paced and well thought out, but for me, that only made the book lean more into the plot-driven popcorn read territory, while not providing the same entertainment value as an actual popcorn read. Overall this was less enjoyable than the dead djinn universe, and it might be the last book I'll pick up from the same author.
Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.