Rebecca Kohn hasn't exactly created a masterpiece in The Gilded Chamber, with an unsatisfying climax and a style that seems to strain its first-person capabilities, but she has written a solid work that pretty well taps into an incredibly powerful narrative tradition behind the Bible.
Kohn's prose vacillates between poetry and cringe-inducing -- Esther refers to her sexuality as "her flower," for God's sake, on multiple occasions, and it doesn't matter that this is the kind of modest metaphor Esther would've actually used, it's still jarring and embarrassing enough that Kohn should've at least tried to find a workaround. And it's pretty easy to see how a different kind of reader wouldn't see the poetry there at all, but put it down to purple prose; the seemingly endless descriptions of the extravagance of palace life can, after the nineteenth iteration, feel just a touch repetitive.
There are definitely places, notably the stretches of time between Esther's arrival at the harem and her marriage, and her marriage and her miscarriage, that are hugely underutilized in the book. Kohn mainly fills the time with anecdotes about the major events in Esther's friends' lives, but by skipping over how Esther and her friends pass time in the day-to-day vagaries of palace life, Kohn misses a huge opportunity to make Esther more relatable and likable. What we get instead are a few paragraphs about boredom and depression that, while probably accurate to the lives of harem women in Persia 2500 years ago, don't exactly make for thrilling reading.
But what I think leaves me the most dissatisfied about this book is the way her ultimate triumph -- turning the beauty that has trapped her into a life of decadence and excess into a weapon for the good of her people -- doesn't quite strike the reader as the thrilling triumph of good over evil that it ought to be, that it definitely is in the Biblical Book of Esther. There's no sense of climactic resolution when Esther gets Haman sentenced to death. In fact, it doesn't even seem a result of her actions, as it's made pretty explicit that the official reason is Haman's threats towards Esther's life, not Esther's accusations of Haman. It's a huge letdown. We've been watching Esther spiral downwards into being the simplistic ornamentation women were meant to be at that time, and in the pivotal moment where she summons up the force of her sexuality and becomes a warrior instead of a weapon, she...doesn't manage to do much at all, or at least it's not portrayed that way. Kohn's Esther does some pretty impressive things: she saves her friends, she saves her people, she overcomes the circumstances that have been forced upon her by her beauty. But when she, as the narrator, fails to recognize the importance of what she's done, the reader isn't quite convinced, either, and as a result Esther's entire character arc falls flat on its face.
That's not to say that Kohn's book isn't strong, even stunning, in other areas. The snapshots of life she conjures up of Persia, circa 500 BCE, are overflowing with life -- you can practically feel the historical accuracy dripping off the tiles. And in spite of the way that Esther, one of the Bible's iconic seductresses, is reduced to a vapid girl bordering on the unlikable at times whose greatest success isn't even hers, Kohn has done an incredible job revealing what life was like for the women of the ancient world -- from Freni, freed and charged with backbreaking work to ensure her family's survival, to Puah, aged and trapped into servitude, to Esther herself, The Gilded Chamber is thick with stories of the secret lives of women, and the secret horrors of being a woman in a time when the king's law is absolute and woman are occasionally less than property.
At times -- especially when Kohn taps into a Biblical narrative tradition that calls the repetition of these stories through millennia -- Kohn's writing can be shiveringly lovely. When Esther describes herself as "a blessing to [Puah] in her old age," for example, the almost thoughtless reminder of Abraham and Isaac is a punch to the gut with the weight of cultural history. And The Gilded Chamber's take on the role of the faith in the lives of Mordechai and Esther is surprising and intriguing; for a story ripped from the pages of the Hebrew Bible, it's almost startling to imagine Mordechai as an unobservant Jew, or Esther as a girl who doesn't know a single Hebrew prayer; the transformations of Mordechai and Esther, and the unwavering faith of Puah and Freni, is one character arc that definitely doesn't fall flat.
In summary: worth reading, but definitely wouldn't read again, and would recommend with caution.