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Naamah Trilogy #2
Naamah's Curse
Far from the land of her birth, Moirin sets out across Tatar territory to find Bao, the proud and virile Ch'in fighter who holds the missing half of her diadh-anam, the divine soul-spark of her mother's people. After a long ordeal, she not only succeeds but surrenders to a passion the likes of which she's never known. But the lovers' happiness is short-lived, for Bao is entangled in a complication that soon leads to their betrayal.
1 pages, Audio CD
First published June 14, 2010
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About the author
Jacqueline Carey
66 books8,474 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
Jacqueline Carey (born 1964 in Highland Park, Illinois) is an author and novelist, primarily of fantasy fiction.
She attended Lake Forest College, receiving B.A.'s in psychology and English literature. During college, she spent 6 months working in a bookstore as part of a work exchange program. While there, she decided to write professionally. After returning she started her writing career while working at the art center of a local college. After ten years, she discovered success with the publication of her first book in 2001.
Currently, Carey lives in western Michigan and is a member of the oldest Mardi Gras krewe in the state.
Jacqueline Carey (born 1964 in Highland Park, Illinois) is an author and novelist, primarily of fantasy fiction.
She attended Lake Forest College, receiving B.A.'s in psychology and English literature. During college, she spent 6 months working in a bookstore as part of a work exchange program. While there, she decided to write professionally. After returning she started her writing career while working at the art center of a local college. After ten years, she discovered success with the publication of her first book in 2001.
Currently, Carey lives in western Michigan and is a member of the oldest Mardi Gras krewe in the state.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 460 reviews
September 15, 2010
The least compelling of the series so far. It's unfortunate that our protagonist, Moirin, so often contrasts herself to the Phedre, the heroine of "the old tales" (i.e., the first three books in the series). Phedre was a much more interesting character, and every time Moirin mentioned her, I thought to myself: "you're right, kiddo. You can't hold a candle to Phedre."
My problem is this -- destiny is boring. Phedre was interesting because we never knew for sure (even *she* never knew for sure) what she was supposed to do in any given situation. She made choices, and dealt with the consequences. Moirin, on the other hand, has a built-in moral compass (or Destiny-o-Meter) in her diadh-anam. Difficult decision? Moirin consults her diadh-anam. Does the morally correct path fork left or right? Moirin has a vision of the Great Bear Herself walking one direction or another. Does Moirin love Bao? Let's see what the diadh-anam does in Bao's presence. Should Moirin seduce Supporting Character Number 53? If the Bright Lady smiles at the idea, why not?
Also, it was a bit preachy, in the "Moirin is tortured by evil priests" and "Moirin goes to India and catalyzes massive social change" storylines.
Will I read the next one? Of course. But my expectations will be dialed down, way down.
My problem is this -- destiny is boring. Phedre was interesting because we never knew for sure (even *she* never knew for sure) what she was supposed to do in any given situation. She made choices, and dealt with the consequences. Moirin, on the other hand, has a built-in moral compass (or Destiny-o-Meter) in her diadh-anam. Difficult decision? Moirin consults her diadh-anam. Does the morally correct path fork left or right? Moirin has a vision of the Great Bear Herself walking one direction or another. Does Moirin love Bao? Let's see what the diadh-anam does in Bao's presence. Should Moirin seduce Supporting Character Number 53? If the Bright Lady smiles at the idea, why not?
Also, it was a bit preachy, in the "Moirin is tortured by evil priests" and "Moirin goes to India and catalyzes massive social change" storylines.
Will I read the next one? Of course. But my expectations will be dialed down, way down.
November 3, 2010
In my heart Phedre from Kushiel's Dart will always rule (the author's first trilogy heroine in this universe), but I enjoyed this new book. I actually appreciated Moirin MORE in this second part from the first. There were many interesting cultures depicted, so well written, Carey's prose is just a joy to read. The way she spins sentences utterly transports you into a fairy world, you just never question if these places exist. She imbues class and love into everything so poignantly.
Only negative, I have to say Bao is a slightly annoying hero, I never feel like he's really worthy of all the work Moirin puts in to get to him, but it's a lovely journey nonetheless. Definitely looking forward to the last in the trilogy!
Only negative, I have to say Bao is a slightly annoying hero, I never feel like he's really worthy of all the work Moirin puts in to get to him, but it's a lovely journey nonetheless. Definitely looking forward to the last in the trilogy!
August 2, 2010
The most Jesus-y of the books.
When I try to compare Moirin to Phedra, I find that what I enjoyed in the first act of Kushiel's series is the uncertainty. In Phedra's story, we are not sure who to trust, how a plan will unfold or how a character might react. Who has betrayed the crown, and why? Will Joscelin and Phedra's love last, or are they incompatible? Ambiguity is what makes it real and gives the story strength.
Moirin's world is mutch easier. She know what to do based on what her connection to her goddess-bear tells her. she cannot fail unless the many gods that seem to concern themselves with her life want her to. as a reader, we follow her from country to country, with no idea of the greater purpose. Her struggles seem short lived, and easy to recover from. she is never estranged from those she cares about. All in all, I find myself bored by Moirin; I know that Bao will follow her to the new world, and that there they will do thing that make her soul light up with the knowledge that she is doing exactly as she should. She will whine along the way, and be momentarily sidetracked, but ultimately, she will make the bear-goddess happy, and me only mildly amused.
When I try to compare Moirin to Phedra, I find that what I enjoyed in the first act of Kushiel's series is the uncertainty. In Phedra's story, we are not sure who to trust, how a plan will unfold or how a character might react. Who has betrayed the crown, and why? Will Joscelin and Phedra's love last, or are they incompatible? Ambiguity is what makes it real and gives the story strength.
Moirin's world is mutch easier. She know what to do based on what her connection to her goddess-bear tells her. she cannot fail unless the many gods that seem to concern themselves with her life want her to. as a reader, we follow her from country to country, with no idea of the greater purpose. Her struggles seem short lived, and easy to recover from. she is never estranged from those she cares about. All in all, I find myself bored by Moirin; I know that Bao will follow her to the new world, and that there they will do thing that make her soul light up with the knowledge that she is doing exactly as she should. She will whine along the way, and be momentarily sidetracked, but ultimately, she will make the bear-goddess happy, and me only mildly amused.
May 28, 2017
I can't believe I've almost finished such a dear and wonderful series.
If forced to choose the weakest book so far in the Kushiel's Universe series Naamah's Curse would be my nominee. However, it remains a solidly entertaining read and earns (albeit just barely) four stars.
It's also an excellent cat pillow.
"I do not know what else to say! I've spent the last year of my life following you halfway around the world, while you've been and do you know what? I'm very, very tired of it, you stupid, stubborn boy!"
Naamah's Curse has a touch of middle-book syndrome; entire plot lines from the previous installment are set aside, sort of "saved" for the finale book. Much of what does happen in this book is resolving the relationship between Bao and Moirin, the former of whom decided to take some time to find himself after, let's call it a traumatic event.
This leads to the driving plot motion of this book - Moirin has to find Bao and it's far easier said than done. All of the books in this series have been driven to some degree by travel, by a sense of adventure and journeying. However, it becomes a bit much in this installment. The story tried to cover such a wide range of cultures and side characters; I didn't feel I got to know any of them with as much depth as usual.
It was beautifully written as always, (I would have been shocked if it wasn't), and I love these characters but there was more filler than usual.
Now I felt like a pair of dice, swept up and shaken in a cup, cast on the gaming table over and over, the stakes growing higher each time.
It seemed like it never ended.
Will Moirin ever stop finding herself being pulled to and fro by the gods? Will the demons of her past come back to her? Is there a happy ending in the stars for a jade-eyed bear witch?
I am a combination of excited, nervous, and sad to read the final book of this series, Naamah's Blessing. I want to wait and savor it, since it's the last book EVER. But I know I'll cave and read it soon. I have no self control.
So say my bookshelves.
If forced to choose the weakest book so far in the Kushiel's Universe series Naamah's Curse would be my nominee. However, it remains a solidly entertaining read and earns (albeit just barely) four stars.
It's also an excellent cat pillow.
"I do not know what else to say! I've spent the last year of my life following you halfway around the world, while you've been and do you know what? I'm very, very tired of it, you stupid, stubborn boy!"
Naamah's Curse has a touch of middle-book syndrome; entire plot lines from the previous installment are set aside, sort of "saved" for the finale book. Much of what does happen in this book is resolving the relationship between Bao and Moirin, the former of whom decided to take some time to find himself after, let's call it a traumatic event.
This leads to the driving plot motion of this book - Moirin has to find Bao and it's far easier said than done. All of the books in this series have been driven to some degree by travel, by a sense of adventure and journeying. However, it becomes a bit much in this installment. The story tried to cover such a wide range of cultures and side characters; I didn't feel I got to know any of them with as much depth as usual.
It was beautifully written as always, (I would have been shocked if it wasn't), and I love these characters but there was more filler than usual.
Now I felt like a pair of dice, swept up and shaken in a cup, cast on the gaming table over and over, the stakes growing higher each time.
It seemed like it never ended.
Will Moirin ever stop finding herself being pulled to and fro by the gods? Will the demons of her past come back to her? Is there a happy ending in the stars for a jade-eyed bear witch?
I am a combination of excited, nervous, and sad to read the final book of this series, Naamah's Blessing. I want to wait and savor it, since it's the last book EVER. But I know I'll cave and read it soon. I have no self control.
So say my bookshelves.
January 30, 2021
Naamah’s Curse is the second book in the third and final trilogy of Kushiel’s Universe. One more book to go!
This one didn’t hold my interest as well as the previous book, nor as well as some of the other books in the series. I had a lot of work distractions while I was reading it, so I suspect that’s partly to blame. I never seem to enjoy books as well if I’m constantly distracted while reading; I need some uninterrupted time to get my head more involved in the story.
I still enjoyed the characters and the writing, and I enjoyed the story in general, but there were times I felt like things were being dragged out excessively long and I wanted the author to get on with it. Thinking back over the other two trilogies, the middle books were my least favorites in each of those, although I did enjoy them. Maybe that will prove to be the case with this trilogy also.
I don’t have a lot to say beyond that, or at least nothing I haven’t already written in previous reviews. I’ll save up my words for the upcoming final book when I’ll likely have more comments about the series in general. I think this is a world I’ll miss once I’ve finished the whole series.
This one didn’t hold my interest as well as the previous book, nor as well as some of the other books in the series. I had a lot of work distractions while I was reading it, so I suspect that’s partly to blame. I never seem to enjoy books as well if I’m constantly distracted while reading; I need some uninterrupted time to get my head more involved in the story.
I still enjoyed the characters and the writing, and I enjoyed the story in general, but there were times I felt like things were being dragged out excessively long and I wanted the author to get on with it. Thinking back over the other two trilogies, the middle books were my least favorites in each of those, although I did enjoy them. Maybe that will prove to be the case with this trilogy also.
I don’t have a lot to say beyond that, or at least nothing I haven’t already written in previous reviews. I’ll save up my words for the upcoming final book when I’ll likely have more comments about the series in general. I think this is a world I’ll miss once I’ve finished the whole series.
November 8, 2017
In this, the second installment of Carey's third trilogy revolving around the sexually-actualized civilization of the D'Angeline, she confirms my sense of her fatigue with the construct. You may recall our young bear witch travelling to a thinly-veiled China for her initial series of adventures. The tale continues now beyond the Great Wall and across a territory of plains that sound suspiciously like the venue of the Old Silk Road. We eventually wind up in a land of striking resemblance to India, where our ever-valiant Moirin hunts her heart's other half - the mischievous stick-fighter, Bao.
Beyond a rather heavy-handed foray into religious persecution, Carey remains solid in her storytelling. The characters are well-drawn, the pacing is good, the logic holds. Still, part of the attraction of fantasy lies in the world-building, and she's just not interested in this anymore. Which leaves her hefty books containing a saga rich in potential yet neutralized to mere variations on a theme.
Beyond a rather heavy-handed foray into religious persecution, Carey remains solid in her storytelling. The characters are well-drawn, the pacing is good, the logic holds. Still, part of the attraction of fantasy lies in the world-building, and she's just not interested in this anymore. Which leaves her hefty books containing a saga rich in potential yet neutralized to mere variations on a theme.
May 18, 2010
Once again, Jacqueline Carey delivers a lushly written, erotic adventure that is deeply engrossing. I was so swept up in Moirin's long journey that I could hardly put the book down, and often had to make myself go to bed at night.
As I said in my review of Naamah's Kiss, I've read the first two Kushiel books, but I find Moirin so much more relatable and interesting a protagonist. She knows that the gods have great and difficult things in store for her, and while she accepts her destiny, she is still afraid and unsure of herself. What she wants wars with the tug of her diadh-anam; her hesitation and trepidation make her so much more believable a character. There are times when I feel like she accepts her fate a little too easily; I would like for her to have set off down the wrong path at least once or twice, if only to add a bit more conflict.
On the other hand, there is plenty of conflict for Moirin to deal with, from her dangerous journey across Tatar territory to... other things that I can't say without spoiling the book. Darn it. This is the thing about Carey's novels, and why my reviews of them will probably always be shorter than I'd like. They are epic adventures, and one event leads to another, so I can't talk about one without spoiling the rest. And trust me, you definitely don't want to be spoiled. There are some wonderfully gasp-worthy moments in Naamah's Curse, and I don't want to ruin them. I will simply say that Moirin's journey in this book is full of beautiful highs and heartbreaking lows, and it kept me hanging on every word.
Carey's world is based on ours, only suffused with magic and different mythologies. From the Kushiel books, we know of Elua, the god of Terre d'Ange, and his companions, including Naamah and Anael, two of Moirin's personal gods. From Naamah's Kiss, we know of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, the great bear goddess who has accepted Moirin as her child. Naamah's Curse brings in other mythologies as Moirin travels through the Asian lands. I love the way she blends religions and mythologies into her world, and I love how Moirin comes to learn about these other gods.
The places themselves are beautifully described, from the endless steppes of Tatar land to the massive mountains called the Abode of the Gods. Being a geography geek, I had fun putting Carey's place names to real places. I think my favorites were Tufan, corresponding to Tibet, and the amazing valley kingdom of Bhaktipur, deep in the Nepali Himalayas. Carey is a master of writing gorgeous, vivid description without being flowery or purple, and I really appreciate that.
The third book in this series hasn't been announced yet, but I'm already chomping at the bit. I want to read it now! [sob:] I'll just have to satisfy myself with a re-read of Naamah's Kiss and Naamah's Curse in the meantime.
As I said in my review of Naamah's Kiss, I've read the first two Kushiel books, but I find Moirin so much more relatable and interesting a protagonist. She knows that the gods have great and difficult things in store for her, and while she accepts her destiny, she is still afraid and unsure of herself. What she wants wars with the tug of her diadh-anam; her hesitation and trepidation make her so much more believable a character. There are times when I feel like she accepts her fate a little too easily; I would like for her to have set off down the wrong path at least once or twice, if only to add a bit more conflict.
On the other hand, there is plenty of conflict for Moirin to deal with, from her dangerous journey across Tatar territory to... other things that I can't say without spoiling the book. Darn it. This is the thing about Carey's novels, and why my reviews of them will probably always be shorter than I'd like. They are epic adventures, and one event leads to another, so I can't talk about one without spoiling the rest. And trust me, you definitely don't want to be spoiled. There are some wonderfully gasp-worthy moments in Naamah's Curse, and I don't want to ruin them. I will simply say that Moirin's journey in this book is full of beautiful highs and heartbreaking lows, and it kept me hanging on every word.
Carey's world is based on ours, only suffused with magic and different mythologies. From the Kushiel books, we know of Elua, the god of Terre d'Ange, and his companions, including Naamah and Anael, two of Moirin's personal gods. From Naamah's Kiss, we know of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, the great bear goddess who has accepted Moirin as her child. Naamah's Curse brings in other mythologies as Moirin travels through the Asian lands. I love the way she blends religions and mythologies into her world, and I love how Moirin comes to learn about these other gods.
The places themselves are beautifully described, from the endless steppes of Tatar land to the massive mountains called the Abode of the Gods. Being a geography geek, I had fun putting Carey's place names to real places. I think my favorites were Tufan, corresponding to Tibet, and the amazing valley kingdom of Bhaktipur, deep in the Nepali Himalayas. Carey is a master of writing gorgeous, vivid description without being flowery or purple, and I really appreciate that.
The third book in this series hasn't been announced yet, but I'm already chomping at the bit. I want to read it now! [sob:] I'll just have to satisfy myself with a re-read of Naamah's Kiss and Naamah's Curse in the meantime.
September 5, 2022
2.5 stars
I loved the first trilogy but this final trilogy is really a struggle. I just struggled to care about the new main character and her adventures.
I loved the first trilogy but this final trilogy is really a struggle. I just struggled to care about the new main character and her adventures.
June 18, 2010
I am very sad to say this is my least favorite novel of Terre d'Ange so far. This is partly because of the theme Carey is exploring in this novel, but mostly because it simply does not measure up to the rest of the series.
Don't get me wrong -- I love this world with a deep and abiding passion, and I will buy the novels in hardcover the day they come out as long as Carey writes them. But this, the third trilogy set in the world of Terre d'Ange, is simply less powerful than the two trilogies that came before. It is less focused. The books are less focused than either Phedre's or Imriel's -- while the first six books in this series had definite beginnings, middles, and ends (that nonetheless contributed to the larger three-book story arc) both Naamah's Kiss and Naamah's Curse have minor endings that are clearly just pauses in the action rather than true endings to a book-long story arc; and Moirin herself is less focused -- she is seeking her destiny, but the only guideline she has is that she will cross many seas, so she just kind of wafts through the world waiting for her diadh-anam to flare up and let her know that this is a place she's supposed to be for a while. That passivity stands in stark contrast to Carey's best heroine, Phedre no Delaunay, who always had a sense of purpose and urgency to whatever she set her mind to. (Phedre also thought before embarking on any action, while Moirin just kind of jumps into bad situations and then goes "Ooops! I guess I shouldn't have done that.")
And the fact that I kept comparing the two protagonists to each other is symptomatic of the flaw in this book as well. They are both female first-person narrators in the same world, and Carey's skill is not so great that she gave them very distinctly different voices, so some comparison is natural. But in this book I have become convinced that Carey is deliberately comparing them to each other in her own mind, because so much of the action of this book echoes the action of Kushiel's Avatar, the third (and best) book featuring Phedre. Both books range into non-European lands (in Avatar it was Africa; here it is Asia); both books feature the protagonist's soul being made a battleground of the gods; the protagonist is tortured in both books as a part of that battle. (There are other parallels, but they would constitute spoilers for this book.) And at each point where there is this echo of the earlier heroine, Carey makes Moirin make the opposite choice.
Obviously, she did this to ensure that Moirin is NOT just a Phedre clone; but simply making Moirin the reverse of Phedre does not make a unique heroine -- being the anti-Phedre is no better than being Phedre-lite. She even gave Moirin an anti-Joscelin in Bao, and reversed the way their relationship worked -- in Kushiel's Justice Phedre drove Joscelin away, while here in Naamah's Curse Bao drives Moirin away through his actions and the difficulties they cause.
But the anti-Phedre trend continues even to the thematic level, and this is the point that I have to give the caveat: the theme Carey chooses to explore is well-executed, so I cannot say that the book is bad as a result of it; it simply is not to my taste, and so I disliked the book a bit as a result. In all the Phedre books there was an underlying theme of the gods' battles being worked out through their human followers -- Melisande is acting out her Kusheline nature in playing the game of Kings, and the battle between her and Phedre in the first two books emphasizes that the gods have created the battle and the battleground, and the humans are simply acting in accordance with their natures; the Mahrkagir, in the third book, is also acting as the avatar of a god, and Phedre is cast against him by her own gods. I loved this theme, because it allowed the human characters (even the villains) to be human, heroes of their own stories even as they are the villains in ours, while not at all lessening the visceral impact of the good vs. evil battle.
Here in Naamah's Curse, the theme itself is reversed. Instead of the humans acting in accordance with their gods, this novel is all about the ways humans can twist their gods to their own ends. The Khan of the Tatars, the Yesuite Rebbe, the Falconer and the Spider Queen -- all of them preach a twisted piety to serve their own human needs for power. And this made the book ugly to me. The battles between the gods had a certain purity to them, a sense of larger-than-life figures and motivations beyond our ken; the battles here are purely human ones despite all the talk of gods, and there is nothing pure about that. It is the darkest of the novels of Terre d'Ange to date, despite the fact that darker things happen in ALL of the other novels, and that made it hard for me to take it to my heart.
Still, anyone who has read the other novels has to read this one, and will have to read the next one as well to find out what Moirin's destiny finally is. And to show one way Carey has improved over time, this novel did at least have more humor than all the others combined, as well as the best one-liner ever, and one that echoes off the Phedre novels in all the right ways: "They say the gods use their chosen hard. Apparently, the gods are part of a vast conspiracy to share their chosen, too."
Don't get me wrong -- I love this world with a deep and abiding passion, and I will buy the novels in hardcover the day they come out as long as Carey writes them. But this, the third trilogy set in the world of Terre d'Ange, is simply less powerful than the two trilogies that came before. It is less focused. The books are less focused than either Phedre's or Imriel's -- while the first six books in this series had definite beginnings, middles, and ends (that nonetheless contributed to the larger three-book story arc) both Naamah's Kiss and Naamah's Curse have minor endings that are clearly just pauses in the action rather than true endings to a book-long story arc; and Moirin herself is less focused -- she is seeking her destiny, but the only guideline she has is that she will cross many seas, so she just kind of wafts through the world waiting for her diadh-anam to flare up and let her know that this is a place she's supposed to be for a while. That passivity stands in stark contrast to Carey's best heroine, Phedre no Delaunay, who always had a sense of purpose and urgency to whatever she set her mind to. (Phedre also thought before embarking on any action, while Moirin just kind of jumps into bad situations and then goes "Ooops! I guess I shouldn't have done that.")
And the fact that I kept comparing the two protagonists to each other is symptomatic of the flaw in this book as well. They are both female first-person narrators in the same world, and Carey's skill is not so great that she gave them very distinctly different voices, so some comparison is natural. But in this book I have become convinced that Carey is deliberately comparing them to each other in her own mind, because so much of the action of this book echoes the action of Kushiel's Avatar, the third (and best) book featuring Phedre. Both books range into non-European lands (in Avatar it was Africa; here it is Asia); both books feature the protagonist's soul being made a battleground of the gods; the protagonist is tortured in both books as a part of that battle. (There are other parallels, but they would constitute spoilers for this book.) And at each point where there is this echo of the earlier heroine, Carey makes Moirin make the opposite choice.
Obviously, she did this to ensure that Moirin is NOT just a Phedre clone; but simply making Moirin the reverse of Phedre does not make a unique heroine -- being the anti-Phedre is no better than being Phedre-lite. She even gave Moirin an anti-Joscelin in Bao, and reversed the way their relationship worked -- in Kushiel's Justice Phedre drove Joscelin away, while here in Naamah's Curse Bao drives Moirin away through his actions and the difficulties they cause.
But the anti-Phedre trend continues even to the thematic level, and this is the point that I have to give the caveat: the theme Carey chooses to explore is well-executed, so I cannot say that the book is bad as a result of it; it simply is not to my taste, and so I disliked the book a bit as a result. In all the Phedre books there was an underlying theme of the gods' battles being worked out through their human followers -- Melisande is acting out her Kusheline nature in playing the game of Kings, and the battle between her and Phedre in the first two books emphasizes that the gods have created the battle and the battleground, and the humans are simply acting in accordance with their natures; the Mahrkagir, in the third book, is also acting as the avatar of a god, and Phedre is cast against him by her own gods. I loved this theme, because it allowed the human characters (even the villains) to be human, heroes of their own stories even as they are the villains in ours, while not at all lessening the visceral impact of the good vs. evil battle.
Here in Naamah's Curse, the theme itself is reversed. Instead of the humans acting in accordance with their gods, this novel is all about the ways humans can twist their gods to their own ends. The Khan of the Tatars, the Yesuite Rebbe, the Falconer and the Spider Queen -- all of them preach a twisted piety to serve their own human needs for power. And this made the book ugly to me. The battles between the gods had a certain purity to them, a sense of larger-than-life figures and motivations beyond our ken; the battles here are purely human ones despite all the talk of gods, and there is nothing pure about that. It is the darkest of the novels of Terre d'Ange to date, despite the fact that darker things happen in ALL of the other novels, and that made it hard for me to take it to my heart.
Still, anyone who has read the other novels has to read this one, and will have to read the next one as well to find out what Moirin's destiny finally is. And to show one way Carey has improved over time, this novel did at least have more humor than all the others combined, as well as the best one-liner ever, and one that echoes off the Phedre novels in all the right ways: "They say the gods use their chosen hard. Apparently, the gods are part of a vast conspiracy to share their chosen, too."
July 28, 2018
In the second part of this trilogy, we continue from where the first book ended, with our heroine trying to reunite with her beloved. This effort leads her to an enormous journey, with many stations where she will meet interesting people, good and bad, who will try to help or exploit her, where she will encounter great difficulties, lose her freedom and be called to use her internal strength to be able to withstand. This moving journey is the occasion for thoughts on human nature, the kindness that people can show and make the difference in a world where injustice is the predominant element, for love, this noble feeling, which can release that kindness and become a shield against every evil. Is interestingly, where the author talks about religious fanaticism in a connection with the previous trilogy, describing how a religion - a fantastic version of Christianity - starts based on love, but ultimately becomes a tool of oppression and thus invalidates its meaning, but, because optimism is one of her main messages, all this can be reversed when illuminated people become the leaders.
The final destination of this journey, where the final showdown takes place, reminds us of some of previous ideas we encounter in the series. This of course does not mean it does not have interest, is exciting and it has the moving message that love in the end can defeat everything. For the latter I like the fact that there is a comparison between pure sexual desire based on love and animal desire, which is a passion harmful for the soul. This reflection on sexual desire also dominates most of the book as our heroine begins to think if in fact the gift she has received from the goddess of desire is in fact a curse. The problem, however, is that unlike most of the endings of the books of this series, the ending here has nothing of this intensity, of this epicness that the author has become accustomed to, making more subdued the final impression of reading of this book. But this does not mean that it is not a very good book, it is a very good sequel, with a very moving quest story in its core, with the writer continuing her familiar game, adding facts from history, mixing with a very charming way the real world with the fantastic, with wonderful writing that becomes more romantic and tender here, and above all with the optimistic message that may sound naive, but it is good to be in our life.
Στο δεύτερο μέρος αυτής της τριλογίας συνεχίζουμε από εκεί που τελείωσε το πρώτο βιβλίο, με την προσπάθεια της ηρωίδας μας να ξανασμίξει με τον αγαπημένο της. Αυτή η προσπάθεια την οδηγεί σε ένα τεράστιο ταξίδι, με πολλούς σταθμούς όπου θα συναντήσει ενδιαφέροντες ανθρώπους καλούς και κακούς που θα προσπαθήσουν να τη βοηθήσουν ή να την εκμεταλλευτούν, όπου θα συναντήσει μεγάλες δυσκολίες, θα χάσει την ελευθερία της και θα κληθεί να χρησιμοποιήσει την εσωτερική της δύναμη για να μπορέσει να αντέξει. Αυτό το συγκινητικό ταξίδι γίνεται αφορμή για σκέψεις πάνω στην ανθρώπινη φύση, για την καλοσύνη που μπορούν να δείξουν οι άνθρωποι και να κάνουν τη διαφορά σε έναν κόσμο όπου η αδικία είναι το κυρίαρχο στοιχείο, για την αγάπη, αυτό το ευγενές συναίσθημα, που μπορεί να απελευθερώσει αυτή την καλοσύνη και να γίνει ασπίδα απέναντι σε κάθε κακό. Ενδιαφέρον είναι εκεί όπου σε μία σύνδεση με την προηγούμενη τριλογία η συγγραφέας μιλάει για τον θρησκευτικό φανατισμό, περιγράφοντας πώς μία θρησκεία - μία φανταστική εκδοχή του χριστιανισμού - ξεκινάει βασιζόμενη στην αγάπη αλλά γίνεται στο τέλος εργαλείο καταπίεσης και ακυρώνεται έτσι το νόημα της, επειδή, όμως, η αισιοδοξία είναι από τα κύρια μηνύματα της, όλα αυτά μπορούν να αντιστραφούν όταν γίνουν οδηγοί οι φωτισμένοι άνθρωποι.
Ο τελικός προορισμός αυτού του ταξιδιού, όπου γίνεται η τελική αναμέτρηση, θυμίζει κάτι από προηγούμενες ιδέες που συναντάμε στη σειρά. Αυτό φυσικά δεν σημαίνει ότι δεν έχει ενδιαφέρον, αντιθέτως αυτή η αναμέτρηση είναι συναρπαστική και συγκινεί με το μήνυμα της ότι η αγάπη στο τέλος μπορεί να νικήσει τα πάντα. Για το τελευταίο μου αρέσει που υπάρχει και μία σύγκριση μεταξύ της αγνής σεξουαλικής επιθυμίας που βασίζεται στην αγάπη και της ζωώδους επιθυμίας που είναι ένα πάθος καταστροφικό για την ψυχή. Αυτός ο προβληματισμός για τη σεξουαλική επιθυμία κυριαρχεί και στο μεγαλύτερο μέρος του βιβλίου, καθώς η ηρωίδα μας αρχίζει να σκέφτεται αν στην πραγματικότητα το δώρο που έχει δεχθεί από τη θεά της επιθυμίας είναι στην πραγματικότητα μία κατάρα. Το πρόβλημα, όμως, είναι ότι σε αντίθεση με τα περισσότερα τελειώματα των βιβλίων αυτής της σειράς το τελείωμα εδώ δεν έχει τίποτα από αυτήν την ένταση, από αυτήν την επικότητα που η συγγραφέας μας έχει συνηθίσει, κάνοντας έτσι περισσότερο υποτονική την τελική εντύπωση από την ανάγνωση αυτού του βιβλίου. Αυτό, όμως, δεν σημαίνει ότι δεν πρόκειται για ένα πολύ καλό βιβλίο, είναι μία πολύ καλή συνέχεια, με κορμό μία πολύ συγκινητική ιστορία αναζήτησης, με τη συγγραφέα να συνεχίζει το γνωστό της παιχνίδι, προσθέτοντας στοιχεία από την ιστορία, ανακατεύοντας με έναν πολύ γοητευτικό τρόπο τον πραγματικό κόσμο με τον φανταστικό, με υπέροχη γραφή που εδώ γίνεται περισσότερο ρομαντική και τρυφερή και πάνω από όλα με το αισιόδοξο μήνυμα που μπορεί να ακούγεται αφελές αλλά καλό είναι να υπάρχει στη ζωή μας.
The final destination of this journey, where the final showdown takes place, reminds us of some of previous ideas we encounter in the series. This of course does not mean it does not have interest, is exciting and it has the moving message that love in the end can defeat everything. For the latter I like the fact that there is a comparison between pure sexual desire based on love and animal desire, which is a passion harmful for the soul. This reflection on sexual desire also dominates most of the book as our heroine begins to think if in fact the gift she has received from the goddess of desire is in fact a curse. The problem, however, is that unlike most of the endings of the books of this series, the ending here has nothing of this intensity, of this epicness that the author has become accustomed to, making more subdued the final impression of reading of this book. But this does not mean that it is not a very good book, it is a very good sequel, with a very moving quest story in its core, with the writer continuing her familiar game, adding facts from history, mixing with a very charming way the real world with the fantastic, with wonderful writing that becomes more romantic and tender here, and above all with the optimistic message that may sound naive, but it is good to be in our life.
Στο δεύτερο μέρος αυτής της τριλογίας συνεχίζουμε από εκεί που τελείωσε το πρώτο βιβλίο, με την προσπάθεια της ηρωίδας μας να ξανασμίξει με τον αγαπημένο της. Αυτή η προσπάθεια την οδηγεί σε ένα τεράστιο ταξίδι, με πολλούς σταθμούς όπου θα συναντήσει ενδιαφέροντες ανθρώπους καλούς και κακούς που θα προσπαθήσουν να τη βοηθήσουν ή να την εκμεταλλευτούν, όπου θα συναντήσει μεγάλες δυσκολίες, θα χάσει την ελευθερία της και θα κληθεί να χρησιμοποιήσει την εσωτερική της δύναμη για να μπορέσει να αντέξει. Αυτό το συγκινητικό ταξίδι γίνεται αφορμή για σκέψεις πάνω στην ανθρώπινη φύση, για την καλοσύνη που μπορούν να δείξουν οι άνθρωποι και να κάνουν τη διαφορά σε έναν κόσμο όπου η αδικία είναι το κυρίαρχο στοιχείο, για την αγάπη, αυτό το ευγενές συναίσθημα, που μπορεί να απελευθερώσει αυτή την καλοσύνη και να γίνει ασπίδα απέναντι σε κάθε κακό. Ενδιαφέρον είναι εκεί όπου σε μία σύνδεση με την προηγούμενη τριλογία η συγγραφέας μιλάει για τον θρησκευτικό φανατισμό, περιγράφοντας πώς μία θρησκεία - μία φανταστική εκδοχή του χριστιανισμού - ξεκινάει βασιζόμενη στην αγάπη αλλά γίνεται στο τέλος εργαλείο καταπίεσης και ακυρώνεται έτσι το νόημα της, επειδή, όμως, η αισιοδοξία είναι από τα κύρια μηνύματα της, όλα αυτά μπορούν να αντιστραφούν όταν γίνουν οδηγοί οι φωτισμένοι άνθρωποι.
Ο τελικός προορισμός αυτού του ταξιδιού, όπου γίνεται η τελική αναμέτρηση, θυμίζει κάτι από προηγούμενες ιδέες που συναντάμε στη σειρά. Αυτό φυσικά δεν σημαίνει ότι δεν έχει ενδιαφέρον, αντιθέτως αυτή η αναμέτρηση είναι συναρπαστική και συγκινεί με το μήνυμα της ότι η αγάπη στο τέλος μπορεί να νικήσει τα πάντα. Για το τελευταίο μου αρέσει που υπάρχει και μία σύγκριση μεταξύ της αγνής σεξουαλικής επιθυμίας που βασίζεται στην αγάπη και της ζωώδους επιθυμίας που είναι ένα πάθος καταστροφικό για την ψυχή. Αυτός ο προβληματισμός για τη σεξουαλική επιθυμία κυριαρχεί και στο μεγαλύτερο μέρος του βιβλίου, καθώς η ηρωίδα μας αρχίζει να σκέφτεται αν στην πραγματικότητα το δώρο που έχει δεχθεί από τη θεά της επιθυμίας είναι στην πραγματικότητα μία κατάρα. Το πρόβλημα, όμως, είναι ότι σε αντίθεση με τα περισσότερα τελειώματα των βιβλίων αυτής της σειράς το τελείωμα εδώ δεν έχει τίποτα από αυτήν την ένταση, από αυτήν την επικότητα που η συγγραφέας μας έχει συνηθίσει, κάνοντας έτσι περισσότερο υποτονική την τελική εντύπωση από την ανάγνωση αυτού του βιβλίου. Αυτό, όμως, δεν σημαίνει ότι δεν πρόκειται για ένα πολύ καλό βιβλίο, είναι μία πολύ καλή συνέχεια, με κορμό μία πολύ συγκινητική ιστορία αναζήτησης, με τη συγγραφέα να συνεχίζει το γνωστό της παιχνίδι, προσθέτοντας στοιχεία από την ιστορία, ανακατεύοντας με έναν πολύ γοητευτικό τρόπο τον πραγματικό κόσμο με τον φανταστικό, με υπέροχη γραφή που εδώ γίνεται περισσότερο ρομαντική και τρυφερή και πάνω από όλα με το αισιόδοξο μήνυμα που μπορεί να ακούγεται αφελές αλλά καλό είναι να υπάρχει στη ζωή μας.
August 14, 2010
This sequel to Naamah's Kiss takes Carey's protagonist, Moirin, on a journey from China across a wide area of Asia in her quest to find her lover, Bo, who carries a piece of her soul. On the way she faces various perils and undertakes unexpected quests.
Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Legacy series started with two beautifully crafted trilogies, set in a richly imagined variant of Renaissance Europe. Each trilogy was told by a memorable first person narrator: firstly courtesan and spy Phedre, secondly damaged young nobleman Imriel.
With the benchmark set so high, it was always going to be hard for Carey to keep matching it. Naamah's Kiss and Naamah's Curse are marketed as part of Kushiel's Legacy, and are set in the same world as the earlier books, but considerably later in time, so there are no common characters.
I love Jacqueline Carey's work, and even when she is below her best, her novels are always absorbing, well crafted and readable - superior works of historical fantasy. One of her great strengths is capturing the culture of a place in rich detail, and she does this as well as ever in Naamah's Curse. As Moirin travels from China back towards her home in Alba, we see the nomadic culture of the steppes and the repressive rule of an extreme Russian Orthodox community, and we have a window into the court of a Hindu princess.
What is missing for me in the Naamah books is a story with the emotional and moral depth that we saw in the Phedre and Imriel trilogies. I never warmed to Moirin and Bo, and I was troubled by the apparent selfishness of their choices - here, both hurt other people in the pursuit of their own bond. Perhaps the author will allow these two characters to become more self-aware in the third book; it is possible their apparently selfish choices are imposed on them by the divine spark they share. Neither seems to have a true moral compass, and that made it hard for me to care about their fate as I did with heroic Phedre and the more conflicted Imriel, who always tried to be good.
Despite the criticism, I recommend Naamah's Curse as a well-crafted and entertaining read.
Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Legacy series started with two beautifully crafted trilogies, set in a richly imagined variant of Renaissance Europe. Each trilogy was told by a memorable first person narrator: firstly courtesan and spy Phedre, secondly damaged young nobleman Imriel.
With the benchmark set so high, it was always going to be hard for Carey to keep matching it. Naamah's Kiss and Naamah's Curse are marketed as part of Kushiel's Legacy, and are set in the same world as the earlier books, but considerably later in time, so there are no common characters.
I love Jacqueline Carey's work, and even when she is below her best, her novels are always absorbing, well crafted and readable - superior works of historical fantasy. One of her great strengths is capturing the culture of a place in rich detail, and she does this as well as ever in Naamah's Curse. As Moirin travels from China back towards her home in Alba, we see the nomadic culture of the steppes and the repressive rule of an extreme Russian Orthodox community, and we have a window into the court of a Hindu princess.
What is missing for me in the Naamah books is a story with the emotional and moral depth that we saw in the Phedre and Imriel trilogies. I never warmed to Moirin and Bo, and I was troubled by the apparent selfishness of their choices - here, both hurt other people in the pursuit of their own bond. Perhaps the author will allow these two characters to become more self-aware in the third book; it is possible their apparently selfish choices are imposed on them by the divine spark they share. Neither seems to have a true moral compass, and that made it hard for me to care about their fate as I did with heroic Phedre and the more conflicted Imriel, who always tried to be good.
Despite the criticism, I recommend Naamah's Curse as a well-crafted and entertaining read.
June 22, 2010
I like to watch Deadliest Catch. True, the basic plot is catching crab, which is repeatitive, but there is something about the show. Maybe, it's because everyone is so normal. I don't know. But what it is, I don't think any other reality show has it.
Neither does Naamah's Curse. Sadly.
I skimmed large portions of this book. It is Carey's weakest novel. I use to think that her two books Godslayer and Banewreaker (together being The Sundering) were her weakest, but at least there she is trying something new.
The first 136 pages were straight romance novel. Any reader of this book knows how Moirin's main quest is going to end. The unsure quality and feeling of danger that was present in the other Kushiel books is lacking here. This is true for most of the book, and there might be something to say for it except in the first 136 pages, nothing really happens that the reader can't guess, except maybe one thing but even that doesn't quite surprise.
Like in romance novels that influence the series, there is something really annoying going on.
Everyone loves Moirin, unless they're really evil, and even then they might. It's true that Carey doesn't fully use the romance heroine convention (not many romance novels have female/female pairings), and Moirin is blessed by Naamah so that might explain it. But when nothing is happening, it made me very bored. Additionally, this likabilty factor doesn't even make sense in one of the plot points. Really, after one talk with Moirin, Erlene suddenly feels better? Really, truly?
Yeah, right, and peace in the Middle East is right around the corner.
Luckily, something finally happens. The twist involes a religious sect that seems to be a blend of the worse aspects of Christinity, Islam, and Judism. This twist is interesting, for in this section of the novel, Carey examines the differences of religion, the idea of conversion, the fact that religion should not be judged on its most frantical elements. While the plot here is somewhat predictable, the exploration of idea is interesting and not the clear cut "all established religion (read Christianity/Islam/Judism) is bad". Carey doesn't take that route. I liked that. In many ways, this theme continues to the third part of the book.
The third part of the book is stronger than the first part, but weaker than the second. Part of this problem is once again Moirin. As other reveiws have pointed out, Moirin is written as an Anti-Phedre, and so she doesn't seem to be her own character. The romance conventions don't help. Moirin is particularly perfect; people look at her and want to help. She is wise and understanding. She is par excellence with a bow. She call twilight. She is beloved by two gods. Yada, yada yada. It is true that Phedre was somewhat like this, but Carey wrote that aspect of Phedre's character as too much pride, as a flaw. That's not the case here. Moirin doesn't have a flaw, unless you count her self claimed lack of patience, a flaw that is undermined by the fact that she has patience thoroughout the whole book. It is true most of Moirin's traits were laid out in the first book, but the reader is constantly, too constantly, reminded of them here.
This is compounded by the fact that outside of the religious twist, every single point plot was used in another Carey book. Many writers and television shows do this. One critic pointed out that many of Hans Christian Andersen's stories are the same plot presented or reinvented different ways. Carey doesn't reinvent enough. Look there is Phedre! Look there is Melusine! Look there is Josecelin. Look it's that plot idea from book 6. It's not changed enough. You've seen it before, and if you wanted the repeat you would simply re-read those books. (And you should, their good).
What prevents this book from being one or two stars are a couple of things, in addition to the religious theme. The first is that while everyone loves Moirin, the everyone includes women. Moirin makes several female friends in the course of the novel. What is more, with one understandable exception, are not jealous of each other. They are different, but respect and like each other. There isn't enough of that in a great many books, and it is nice to see that here. The second is that Carey's world building is well done. It is an interesting world. The third is that in addition to examining religion, Carey takes a look at caste systems as well as the idea of love (the second is an on going theme of these novels). It is a true look and not a sub-standard examination. I just wish the plot of the novel held up to the complexity of the ideas.
Neither does Naamah's Curse. Sadly.
I skimmed large portions of this book. It is Carey's weakest novel. I use to think that her two books Godslayer and Banewreaker (together being The Sundering) were her weakest, but at least there she is trying something new.
The first 136 pages were straight romance novel. Any reader of this book knows how Moirin's main quest is going to end. The unsure quality and feeling of danger that was present in the other Kushiel books is lacking here. This is true for most of the book, and there might be something to say for it except in the first 136 pages, nothing really happens that the reader can't guess, except maybe one thing but even that doesn't quite surprise.
Like in romance novels that influence the series, there is something really annoying going on.
Everyone loves Moirin, unless they're really evil, and even then they might. It's true that Carey doesn't fully use the romance heroine convention (not many romance novels have female/female pairings), and Moirin is blessed by Naamah so that might explain it. But when nothing is happening, it made me very bored. Additionally, this likabilty factor doesn't even make sense in one of the plot points. Really, after one talk with Moirin, Erlene suddenly feels better? Really, truly?
Yeah, right, and peace in the Middle East is right around the corner.
Luckily, something finally happens. The twist involes a religious sect that seems to be a blend of the worse aspects of Christinity, Islam, and Judism. This twist is interesting, for in this section of the novel, Carey examines the differences of religion, the idea of conversion, the fact that religion should not be judged on its most frantical elements. While the plot here is somewhat predictable, the exploration of idea is interesting and not the clear cut "all established religion (read Christianity/Islam/Judism) is bad". Carey doesn't take that route. I liked that. In many ways, this theme continues to the third part of the book.
The third part of the book is stronger than the first part, but weaker than the second. Part of this problem is once again Moirin. As other reveiws have pointed out, Moirin is written as an Anti-Phedre, and so she doesn't seem to be her own character. The romance conventions don't help. Moirin is particularly perfect; people look at her and want to help. She is wise and understanding. She is par excellence with a bow. She call twilight. She is beloved by two gods. Yada, yada yada. It is true that Phedre was somewhat like this, but Carey wrote that aspect of Phedre's character as too much pride, as a flaw. That's not the case here. Moirin doesn't have a flaw, unless you count her self claimed lack of patience, a flaw that is undermined by the fact that she has patience thoroughout the whole book. It is true most of Moirin's traits were laid out in the first book, but the reader is constantly, too constantly, reminded of them here.
This is compounded by the fact that outside of the religious twist, every single point plot was used in another Carey book. Many writers and television shows do this. One critic pointed out that many of Hans Christian Andersen's stories are the same plot presented or reinvented different ways. Carey doesn't reinvent enough. Look there is Phedre! Look there is Melusine! Look there is Josecelin. Look it's that plot idea from book 6. It's not changed enough. You've seen it before, and if you wanted the repeat you would simply re-read those books. (And you should, their good).
What prevents this book from being one or two stars are a couple of things, in addition to the religious theme. The first is that while everyone loves Moirin, the everyone includes women. Moirin makes several female friends in the course of the novel. What is more, with one understandable exception, are not jealous of each other. They are different, but respect and like each other. There isn't enough of that in a great many books, and it is nice to see that here. The second is that Carey's world building is well done. It is an interesting world. The third is that in addition to examining religion, Carey takes a look at caste systems as well as the idea of love (the second is an on going theme of these novels). It is a true look and not a sub-standard examination. I just wish the plot of the novel held up to the complexity of the ideas.
August 18, 2010
For all its length, this is a quick read: I made it through in a week. That's because for all its weight, it's a light read. There's no scheming here, no passages to peruse for deeper meaning, no characters whose motivations are hidden. Moirin marches from one end of pseudo-Asia to the other and back, always knowing exactly where she's going. After all, she's got a soulbond to follow.
Soulbonds, incidentally, are one of my most hated tropes in fantasy literature, which is why I was thrilled when Bao's reaction was not to fall at Moirin's feet but to promptly flee pseudo-China for pseudo-Mongolia and marry someone else. But Carey lost every point she won from me when Bao's next move, the day Moirin shows up at his doorstep, is to fall into bed with her and announce he's abandoning his wife. After all, he never loved Erdene (though she, of course, loved him); he only married her because it was politically convenient. Now it's convenient to cast her aside.
No. No, no, no. You do not get to do that--without a shred of apology, guilt, or regret--and keep my respect as a moral protagonist. Not even if the author waves it away by having Moirin speak a few words to Bao's wife, which instantly convinces her that she shouldn't stand in the way of True Love. I can't help but compare Bao to Imriel, who may have felt he made a mistake when he left Sidonie to wed Dolorei but at least tried to make things work--and talked to his wife himself when he couldn't.
Bao and Moirin's choice particularly bugs me because the pseudo-Tartars are polygynous. There's no particular reason he has to abandon his wife to be with Moirin, and I think an exploration of polygyny would have been a lot more interesting. The book could still have followed the same basic plot, even, with Erdene eventually making the choice to step aside. I certainly would have found her acquiescence more believable if it came after months of interaction with Bao and Moirin, instead of one conversation. And it would have given her more agency.
But no: Carey took the easy route, and I spent the next 400 pages trying to get over the protagonists' selfishness and failing. That's partly because there wasn't much else in the middle of interest. Moirin is kidnapped and forced to confess her "sins" by a religious zealot for months. The basic concept is somewhat engaging, but the confession drags, since we've already heard all about those sins in the previous book. Meanwhile, Moirin lacks agency; she's eventually freed by one of her captors through no effort of her own except (maybe) her innate loveableness.
And about that innate loveableness: yeah. Everyone Loves Moirin (or is evil). Do I get tired of that? Yes, yes I do. At least Phedre and Imriel's excessive awesomeness and beauty was tempered by the fact that some of the good guys distrusted or flat-out hated them.
Eventually, Moirin escapes to pseudo-India, where she meets someone ever more innately lovable than her. In many ways this was my favorite section of the book: the protagonists finally had both agency and goals to direct it towards. And hey, there was something for Carey to describe besides endless steppes and snow--and she can write compelling descriptions. Reading about Moirin's pseudo-Indian meals made me salivate.
But Carey again loses me by taking the easy way out. First Moirin is faced with a choice: she can give up Naamah's gift, which makes her particularly susceptible to the evil Spider Queen, or she can keep it and risk the consequences. She keeps it. . .and the consequence, as it turns out, is nothing at all.
Then the Spider Queen is given depth by means of a Tragic Past. Her actions become understandable. Her approach is wrong, of course (she's the villain, after all), but she's reacting to genuine injustice. This should leave the protagonists with a tense choice: do they try to rehabilitate her, or kill her and deal with their guilt?
Instead, she kills herself. And the centuries-long injustice that drove her into a life full of evil is righted with a few quick, unsatisfying waves of the protagonists' hands.
Unsatisfying pretty much sums up the book for me, I guess. But I'm going to finish the series, because I'm a completionist at heart. If nothing else, I think Carey does better when writing in pseudo-Europe.
Soulbonds, incidentally, are one of my most hated tropes in fantasy literature, which is why I was thrilled when Bao's reaction was not to fall at Moirin's feet but to promptly flee pseudo-China for pseudo-Mongolia and marry someone else. But Carey lost every point she won from me when Bao's next move, the day Moirin shows up at his doorstep, is to fall into bed with her and announce he's abandoning his wife. After all, he never loved Erdene (though she, of course, loved him); he only married her because it was politically convenient. Now it's convenient to cast her aside.
No. No, no, no. You do not get to do that--without a shred of apology, guilt, or regret--and keep my respect as a moral protagonist. Not even if the author waves it away by having Moirin speak a few words to Bao's wife, which instantly convinces her that she shouldn't stand in the way of True Love. I can't help but compare Bao to Imriel, who may have felt he made a mistake when he left Sidonie to wed Dolorei but at least tried to make things work--and talked to his wife himself when he couldn't.
Bao and Moirin's choice particularly bugs me because the pseudo-Tartars are polygynous. There's no particular reason he has to abandon his wife to be with Moirin, and I think an exploration of polygyny would have been a lot more interesting. The book could still have followed the same basic plot, even, with Erdene eventually making the choice to step aside. I certainly would have found her acquiescence more believable if it came after months of interaction with Bao and Moirin, instead of one conversation. And it would have given her more agency.
But no: Carey took the easy route, and I spent the next 400 pages trying to get over the protagonists' selfishness and failing. That's partly because there wasn't much else in the middle of interest. Moirin is kidnapped and forced to confess her "sins" by a religious zealot for months. The basic concept is somewhat engaging, but the confession drags, since we've already heard all about those sins in the previous book. Meanwhile, Moirin lacks agency; she's eventually freed by one of her captors through no effort of her own except (maybe) her innate loveableness.
And about that innate loveableness: yeah. Everyone Loves Moirin (or is evil). Do I get tired of that? Yes, yes I do. At least Phedre and Imriel's excessive awesomeness and beauty was tempered by the fact that some of the good guys distrusted or flat-out hated them.
Eventually, Moirin escapes to pseudo-India, where she meets someone ever more innately lovable than her. In many ways this was my favorite section of the book: the protagonists finally had both agency and goals to direct it towards. And hey, there was something for Carey to describe besides endless steppes and snow--and she can write compelling descriptions. Reading about Moirin's pseudo-Indian meals made me salivate.
But Carey again loses me by taking the easy way out. First Moirin is faced with a choice: she can give up Naamah's gift, which makes her particularly susceptible to the evil Spider Queen, or she can keep it and risk the consequences. She keeps it. . .and the consequence, as it turns out, is nothing at all.
Then the Spider Queen is given depth by means of a Tragic Past. Her actions become understandable. Her approach is wrong, of course (she's the villain, after all), but she's reacting to genuine injustice. This should leave the protagonists with a tense choice: do they try to rehabilitate her, or kill her and deal with their guilt?
Instead, she kills herself. And the centuries-long injustice that drove her into a life full of evil is righted with a few quick, unsatisfying waves of the protagonists' hands.
Unsatisfying pretty much sums up the book for me, I guess. But I'm going to finish the series, because I'm a completionist at heart. If nothing else, I think Carey does better when writing in pseudo-Europe.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 17, 2025
I swear this series marinates beautifully and ages like a fine wine. It just gets better and better with time.
I missed Moirin and I love Bao.
5 Stars
I missed Moirin and I love Bao.
5 Stars
December 26, 2014
This is the first Kushiel's Legacy book I have three-starred. It was hard not to tack on an extra star for loyalty's/consistency's sake, because I truly loved the first seven books. What I loved about Naamah's Kiss was its ability to introduce a completely new cast of characters while maintaining the essence of the Kushiel saga. Naamah's Curse, however, felt like a pale imitation of Phèdre's trilogy.
The parallels are many: the diamond that exerts considerable control over Moirin (much like the diamond Melisande had Phèdre wear), Jehanne's lingering power over Moirin and left-behind child (Melisande/Imriel, anyone?), etc.
But the primary problem for me in this book was characterization. In the original trilogy, we never needed to be told that Phèdre was awesome. She exemplified awesomeness. She lived it and breathed it, and no one had to say it aloud to make it known. In Naamah's Curse, however, we are constantly beaten over the head with how awesome Moirin is. We are told, not shown, that she is the most amazing woman who ever lived by multiple characters. Yes, she's capable of some impressive magic tricks and underwent a difficult journey to find Bao, but she is also prone to self-indulgent wallowing the likes of which would have appalled Phèdre.
Here are examples of some more "Mary Sue"-esque passages. Warning: There are many.
"Bao sighed, 'Moirin, you possess a gift the likes of which no one outside your strange bear-folk has ever seen. You possess a strange beauty the likes of which no one has ever seen. You are descended from three different royal lineages'" (87).
[commence whining-cum-boasting:] "The quest I had undertaken in Ch'in to free the princess and the dragon should have been enough for anyone's lifetime. But oh, no! Not for Moirin. The great Khan had betrayed me, the gods had scooped me up and tossed me back onto the gaming table, sending me to Vralia, where the Patriarch of Riva dreamed of destiny, dreamed of a Yeshuite empire built on bloodshed and loathing. I had put an end to his dream. I had armed my sweet boy Aleksei with the courage of his convictions that he might continue the fight against his uncle's vile legacy, raising a voice in favor of love, compassion, and understanding, altering the course of his world. And yet it wasn't enough. No, now I must be shaken and rattled and tossed once more, hurtled back into the fray, pitted against this legendary Falconer and his bedamned Spider Queen with her unknown charms that held grown men in thrall. And it was not enough that I find the missing half of my soul, too. A boy-monk with kind, gentle, ancient eyes was depending on me to rescue the reincarnation of one of the Enlightened Ones. And that, he had informed me, was only the beginning of my journey. I had further oceans to cross. It was a considerable weight to carry, a considerable weight to place on the shoulder of a young woman who had grown up in a cave in the Alban wilderness. And I felt very alone beneath my burden" (364). [/end whining-cum-boasting:]
"'And as sick as you were, you still looked like you'd stepped out of an ancient tale from when gods and goddesses roamed the earth'" (468).
"'You are wise for one so young, Moirin'" (491).
"'You would be desirable beyond bearing ... You already incite powerful desire. Were you to don Kamadeva's diamond, I think no one would be able to resist you, for the diamond would reflect your own considerable passions back at them. Men would walk through fire for the chance to touch your skin--and women, too. Men would gladly fight to the death for your favor without being asked. I daresay you couldn't stop them from doing it'" (520).
"...I didn't know how to be an ordinary, mortal lover anymore" (528).
There are others, but these were some of the more striking examples. Bottom line: It was easy to get behind Phèdre. This was a young woman born to be an outlet for mankind's basest instincts, and she sometimes hated what she was. Moirin, on the other hand, comes off as a rather boy-/girl-crazy schoolgirl at times, complete with giggling. Perhaps the concept of Kushiel's dart was developed better than that of Naamah's blessing. I understood why Phèdre ended up in dalliances with various characters. But Moirin's "gift" is undiscriminating--all anyone need do is cast her an intense gaze, and she's putty in their hands.
What saved this book for me is Bao. As I said to another friend who just read this, Bao is Bao. In my eyes, he has no parallel in the other trilogies. He's more impish than Joscelin, more impudent than Imriel. He is, at times, genuinely funny. He may just be the strongest element of the entire Naamah trilogy.
So, overall, three stars. I'm not sure where Naamah's Blessing will take us, which is strange. When I finished the second books of both other trilogies, I had a clearer sense of what was to come in the third books. Naamah's Curse, however, ends with a wedding and the vague hint that Bao and Moirin will return to Terre d'Ange, likely to meet the late Jehanne's daughter. Where the conflict will lie is anyone's guess.
The parallels are many: the diamond that exerts considerable control over Moirin (much like the diamond Melisande had Phèdre wear), Jehanne's lingering power over Moirin and left-behind child (Melisande/Imriel, anyone?), etc.
But the primary problem for me in this book was characterization. In the original trilogy, we never needed to be told that Phèdre was awesome. She exemplified awesomeness. She lived it and breathed it, and no one had to say it aloud to make it known. In Naamah's Curse, however, we are constantly beaten over the head with how awesome Moirin is. We are told, not shown, that she is the most amazing woman who ever lived by multiple characters. Yes, she's capable of some impressive magic tricks and underwent a difficult journey to find Bao, but she is also prone to self-indulgent wallowing the likes of which would have appalled Phèdre.
Here are examples of some more "Mary Sue"-esque passages. Warning: There are many.
"Bao sighed, 'Moirin, you possess a gift the likes of which no one outside your strange bear-folk has ever seen. You possess a strange beauty the likes of which no one has ever seen. You are descended from three different royal lineages'" (87).
[commence whining-cum-boasting:] "The quest I had undertaken in Ch'in to free the princess and the dragon should have been enough for anyone's lifetime. But oh, no! Not for Moirin. The great Khan had betrayed me, the gods had scooped me up and tossed me back onto the gaming table, sending me to Vralia, where the Patriarch of Riva dreamed of destiny, dreamed of a Yeshuite empire built on bloodshed and loathing. I had put an end to his dream. I had armed my sweet boy Aleksei with the courage of his convictions that he might continue the fight against his uncle's vile legacy, raising a voice in favor of love, compassion, and understanding, altering the course of his world. And yet it wasn't enough. No, now I must be shaken and rattled and tossed once more, hurtled back into the fray, pitted against this legendary Falconer and his bedamned Spider Queen with her unknown charms that held grown men in thrall. And it was not enough that I find the missing half of my soul, too. A boy-monk with kind, gentle, ancient eyes was depending on me to rescue the reincarnation of one of the Enlightened Ones. And that, he had informed me, was only the beginning of my journey. I had further oceans to cross. It was a considerable weight to carry, a considerable weight to place on the shoulder of a young woman who had grown up in a cave in the Alban wilderness. And I felt very alone beneath my burden" (364). [/end whining-cum-boasting:]
"'And as sick as you were, you still looked like you'd stepped out of an ancient tale from when gods and goddesses roamed the earth'" (468).
"'You are wise for one so young, Moirin'" (491).
"'You would be desirable beyond bearing ... You already incite powerful desire. Were you to don Kamadeva's diamond, I think no one would be able to resist you, for the diamond would reflect your own considerable passions back at them. Men would walk through fire for the chance to touch your skin--and women, too. Men would gladly fight to the death for your favor without being asked. I daresay you couldn't stop them from doing it'" (520).
"...I didn't know how to be an ordinary, mortal lover anymore" (528).
There are others, but these were some of the more striking examples. Bottom line: It was easy to get behind Phèdre. This was a young woman born to be an outlet for mankind's basest instincts, and she sometimes hated what she was. Moirin, on the other hand, comes off as a rather boy-/girl-crazy schoolgirl at times, complete with giggling. Perhaps the concept of Kushiel's dart was developed better than that of Naamah's blessing. I understood why Phèdre ended up in dalliances with various characters. But Moirin's "gift" is undiscriminating--all anyone need do is cast her an intense gaze, and she's putty in their hands.
What saved this book for me is Bao. As I said to another friend who just read this, Bao is Bao. In my eyes, he has no parallel in the other trilogies. He's more impish than Joscelin, more impudent than Imriel. He is, at times, genuinely funny. He may just be the strongest element of the entire Naamah trilogy.
So, overall, three stars. I'm not sure where Naamah's Blessing will take us, which is strange. When I finished the second books of both other trilogies, I had a clearer sense of what was to come in the third books. Naamah's Curse, however, ends with a wedding and the vague hint that Bao and Moirin will return to Terre d'Ange, likely to meet the late Jehanne's daughter. Where the conflict will lie is anyone's guess.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 23, 2010
It pains me not to rate this book higher than 3.5. Jacqueline Carey is a master of fantasy and world building. I always thoroughly enjoy her creative approach to politics and religion. These elements alone have made me a devoted fan but they did not do it all alone. The characters are rich. So why was this story somehow less than the previous seven books? It's simple; Moirin and Bao seem to be getting off easy compared to their predecessors from the Kushiel trilogies. I know this is book 8, but I had expectations.
In books 1-3, Phèdre and Joscelin's story is pure perfection in every detail. Their love story was beautiful. The next generation or books 4-6, Imriel and Sidonie's story was not as beautiful of a love story but it is consistent in it’s level of epic fantasy. Well to be fair, I didn't like Sidonie in the first two books, so I might be too hard on her. Imriel, however, was multi-dimensional and seemed to live lifetimes in a short span of years. For all of the earlier characters-- heartache, betrayal, and long suffering trials were par for the course.
Moirin and Bao are interesting but some important things seem to be missing. The heartache does not run as deep. Bao is no Joscelin. He is a fighter but he does not have the polish and wisdom. Moirin is leading him by the nose by the end of this book. It seems kind of weird. The bad guys went down too easy in every situation Moirin found herself trapped in. Phedre and Imriel bled, long and hard. I guess I got used to the pain as being a big part of each character’s journey.
I am going to continue the series because it is well written and maybe my disappointment will remain with this one book.
In books 1-3, Phèdre and Joscelin's story is pure perfection in every detail. Their love story was beautiful. The next generation or books 4-6, Imriel and Sidonie's story was not as beautiful of a love story but it is consistent in it’s level of epic fantasy. Well to be fair, I didn't like Sidonie in the first two books, so I might be too hard on her. Imriel, however, was multi-dimensional and seemed to live lifetimes in a short span of years. For all of the earlier characters-- heartache, betrayal, and long suffering trials were par for the course.
Moirin and Bao are interesting but some important things seem to be missing. The heartache does not run as deep. Bao is no Joscelin. He is a fighter but he does not have the polish and wisdom. Moirin is leading him by the nose by the end of this book. It seems kind of weird. The bad guys went down too easy in every situation Moirin found herself trapped in. Phedre and Imriel bled, long and hard. I guess I got used to the pain as being a big part of each character’s journey.
I am going to continue the series because it is well written and maybe my disappointment will remain with this one book.
August 23, 2022
Onestamente la parte in India non mi ha fatta impazzire, ma Jacqueline Carey scrive in modo così sublime che non si può esserne catturati.
Moirin non è un'eroina come Phedre, non ha la durezza di Kushiel, ma la languidezza di Naamah. Dove Phedre è intelligenza, Moirin è istinto e naturalezza.
Sono eroine diverse, ma l'autrice è sempre molto sadica con le sue protagoniste. E la parte in Vralia è davvero terribile e magnifica.
L'ultima parte meno convincente: la fortezza di Kurugiri era così figa e la sua Regina Ragno così figa che avrei preferito un salvataggio un po' più sofferto.
Attendo il prossimo, curiosa del destino di Moirin...
Moirin non è un'eroina come Phedre, non ha la durezza di Kushiel, ma la languidezza di Naamah. Dove Phedre è intelligenza, Moirin è istinto e naturalezza.
Sono eroine diverse, ma l'autrice è sempre molto sadica con le sue protagoniste. E la parte in Vralia è davvero terribile e magnifica.
L'ultima parte meno convincente: la fortezza di Kurugiri era così figa e la sua Regina Ragno così figa che avrei preferito un salvataggio un po' più sofferto.
Attendo il prossimo, curiosa del destino di Moirin...
June 14, 2010
At the end of Naamah’s Kiss, Moirin’s lover Bao set out on his own, uncomfortable with the magic that bound him and Moirin together. As Naamah’s Curse begins, Moirin undertakes a dangerous journey to find him. The beginning is on the slow side, focusing on the hardships of winter travel and on Moirin’s stay with a kindly Tatar family.
Then, Moirin learns that Bao has done something stupid.
It took me a while to warm to Bao in Naamah’s Kiss, mainly because of his habit of calling Moirin “stupid girl.” Yet warm to him I did. By the end of the book, I was rooting for Moirin and Bao as a couple, and I thought Bao’s Han Solo “I know” moment was really cute. Here, though, he does something that makes me like him a good deal less. I'll explain below the spoiler warning.
Yet I have a love-hate relationship with this turning point in the story, because this is also when it picks up and becomes impossible to put down. Moirin and Bao are separated again and sent in different directions: Moirin to the Vralian city of Riva, and Bao to the valley of Bhaktipur in Bhodistan. We follow Moirin as she endures a grueling captivity at the hands of an intolerant Yeshuite patriarch, and later as she travels to Bhaktipur to rescue her love.
Jacqueline Carey frequently sends her protagonists on several very different adventures in a single book. Naamah’s Curse is no exception, and the adventures seem less “connected” here than they sometimes have in the past. Moirin’s journeys to Vralia and Bhaktipur don’t seem as intertwined as, say, Phedre’s journeys to Drujan and Saba. Moirin’s travels make a darn good story, though, as she finds new trouble and lovers along the way. It reminded me, in the end, of the French courtly fairy tales of the seventeenth century, where just when you think the hero and heroine are on course for Happily Ever After, some wild plot twist will arise to test their love. Even if it doesn’t all seem to “go together,” it keeps the reader enthralled and wondering what will happen next.
The only other reservation I have about Naamah’s Curse is that it’s starting to sit uncomfortably with me that every culture in the world seems to have a magical problem that can only be solved by a D’Angeline. It feels a little Eurocentric, plus I miss the ambiguous nature of magic in the earlier books. There was magic, but it was rare enough that you didn’t always know at first sight whether you were dealing with magic or trickery. I fondly remember wondering whether the Master of the Straits was just a myth, admiring the ingenious set-up that produced Asherat’s “voice,” and spending half of Kushiel’s Avatar thinking the Skotophagoti were just charlatans with a really scary act.
That said, Naamah’s Curse is the very definition of a “ripping good yarn” and kept me enthralled for days. I will definitely read the third Moirin book — though it will take Bao a while to grow on me again, and I doubt that I’ll ever weep buckets over them the way I did over Phedre and Joscelin in the waterfall!
SPOILERS:
Bao makes a choice that has two likely outcomes. He could lose Moirin forever, or — if she arrived with the Imperial entourage he was expecting — he could cause a war. Reasons for his decision are given, but I just can’t shake the idea that either he’s “just not that into” Moirin or that he doesn’t care if he ignites a war. Neither possibility endears him to me. Later in the book, he realizes he made a mistake, but he seems more regretful about squandering his second chance at life than about the fact that he has hurt Moirin and others.
Then, Moirin learns that Bao has done something stupid.
It took me a while to warm to Bao in Naamah’s Kiss, mainly because of his habit of calling Moirin “stupid girl.” Yet warm to him I did. By the end of the book, I was rooting for Moirin and Bao as a couple, and I thought Bao’s Han Solo “I know” moment was really cute. Here, though, he does something that makes me like him a good deal less. I'll explain below the spoiler warning.
Yet I have a love-hate relationship with this turning point in the story, because this is also when it picks up and becomes impossible to put down. Moirin and Bao are separated again and sent in different directions: Moirin to the Vralian city of Riva, and Bao to the valley of Bhaktipur in Bhodistan. We follow Moirin as she endures a grueling captivity at the hands of an intolerant Yeshuite patriarch, and later as she travels to Bhaktipur to rescue her love.
Jacqueline Carey frequently sends her protagonists on several very different adventures in a single book. Naamah’s Curse is no exception, and the adventures seem less “connected” here than they sometimes have in the past. Moirin’s journeys to Vralia and Bhaktipur don’t seem as intertwined as, say, Phedre’s journeys to Drujan and Saba. Moirin’s travels make a darn good story, though, as she finds new trouble and lovers along the way. It reminded me, in the end, of the French courtly fairy tales of the seventeenth century, where just when you think the hero and heroine are on course for Happily Ever After, some wild plot twist will arise to test their love. Even if it doesn’t all seem to “go together,” it keeps the reader enthralled and wondering what will happen next.
The only other reservation I have about Naamah’s Curse is that it’s starting to sit uncomfortably with me that every culture in the world seems to have a magical problem that can only be solved by a D’Angeline. It feels a little Eurocentric, plus I miss the ambiguous nature of magic in the earlier books. There was magic, but it was rare enough that you didn’t always know at first sight whether you were dealing with magic or trickery. I fondly remember wondering whether the Master of the Straits was just a myth, admiring the ingenious set-up that produced Asherat’s “voice,” and spending half of Kushiel’s Avatar thinking the Skotophagoti were just charlatans with a really scary act.
That said, Naamah’s Curse is the very definition of a “ripping good yarn” and kept me enthralled for days. I will definitely read the third Moirin book — though it will take Bao a while to grow on me again, and I doubt that I’ll ever weep buckets over them the way I did over Phedre and Joscelin in the waterfall!
SPOILERS:
Bao makes a choice that has two likely outcomes. He could lose Moirin forever, or — if she arrived with the Imperial entourage he was expecting — he could cause a war. Reasons for his decision are given, but I just can’t shake the idea that either he’s “just not that into” Moirin or that he doesn’t care if he ignites a war. Neither possibility endears him to me. Later in the book, he realizes he made a mistake, but he seems more regretful about squandering his second chance at life than about the fact that he has hurt Moirin and others.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 11, 2011
I enjoyed it, but it didn't GRAB me the way the Kushiel books did. I don't really think that's Carey's fault though; Moirin is an interesting, well-rounded character, and Bao is very fun and sexy, but...I miss Phedre and Joscelin. I really do. I really REALLY do.
Moirin misses being a Mary Sue by a wide margin, thank goodness...she's a good girl, but not TOO good, and she screws up, and gets impatient, and makes enough mistakes to be human. Bao likewise, he isn't even close to being perfect, but you like him anyway. It's just...there was something so compelling about the Phedre/Joscelin pairing, and it's missing with Moirin and Bao. I LIKE them, but I don't care quite so much.
Also? I miss all the sex. Phedre was such a bad girl wasn't she? And Joscelin was constantly scandalized, but you knew he loved it anyway. Which is one of the things I DO like about the Moirin/Bao pairing, the fond eye-rolling he does. He told her one time she falls in love as easily as some people fall off a horse, and it's totally true, but he doesn't really mind because he loves her despite/because of it. But we don't see quite as much of that as we did in earlier books.
Also, I wasn't always won over by all the magical things it turns out Moirin can do. Carey does do a good job of keeping her from being all powerful, but every time we turn around she can do something new; take away memories, make herself invisible, make others invisible, make others invisible even when she's asleep, talk to the gods, make an entire field of flowers bloom. (That last one, mm, the whole scene seemed a little much. Especially when the water in the river was warm. I can't explain it, it was just a touch TOO dramatic.)
But I still enjoyed it, except for the longer gaps between the sexy bits. That seems to be the biggest difference in this latest trilogy: way less sex, and what there is is much less graphic. Which is NOT a bad thing. Not at all. They're still very good books. I just miss being a little scandalized is all.
Moirin misses being a Mary Sue by a wide margin, thank goodness...she's a good girl, but not TOO good, and she screws up, and gets impatient, and makes enough mistakes to be human. Bao likewise, he isn't even close to being perfect, but you like him anyway. It's just...there was something so compelling about the Phedre/Joscelin pairing, and it's missing with Moirin and Bao. I LIKE them, but I don't care quite so much.
Also? I miss all the sex. Phedre was such a bad girl wasn't she? And Joscelin was constantly scandalized, but you knew he loved it anyway. Which is one of the things I DO like about the Moirin/Bao pairing, the fond eye-rolling he does. He told her one time she falls in love as easily as some people fall off a horse, and it's totally true, but he doesn't really mind because he loves her despite/because of it. But we don't see quite as much of that as we did in earlier books.
Also, I wasn't always won over by all the magical things it turns out Moirin can do. Carey does do a good job of keeping her from being all powerful, but every time we turn around she can do something new; take away memories, make herself invisible, make others invisible, make others invisible even when she's asleep, talk to the gods, make an entire field of flowers bloom. (That last one, mm, the whole scene seemed a little much. Especially when the water in the river was warm. I can't explain it, it was just a touch TOO dramatic.)
But I still enjoyed it, except for the longer gaps between the sexy bits. That seems to be the biggest difference in this latest trilogy: way less sex, and what there is is much less graphic. Which is NOT a bad thing. Not at all. They're still very good books. I just miss being a little scandalized is all.
July 23, 2010
...While Naamah's Kiss was a promising start of a new trilogy, Naamah's Curse does not quite match the standard set in that book. The fresh, inquisitive Moirin of the first book has grown up considerably and in the process has lost something of her appeal. This book is not a bad tale but a little less dependence on the divine in Moirin's quest would have made it much more exciting. Her complete acceptance of her destiny is a little too much of a good thing. Interesting characters are generally more than a well trained pet of the Gods but in this book Moirin is in danger of becoming just that. It makes one wonder what would happen to her if the Bear Goddess does not guide her through a difficult decision or what will happen if the two deities disagree. Perhaps Carey will show us in Naamah's Blessing.
Full Random Comments review
Full Random Comments review
August 13, 2015
In my opinion. this was the best book of the last trilogy, and perhaps the longest. So much happened! Moirin got Bao back, got kidnapped by religious nuts from Aurelia (which is based on medieval Russia), got out and had go after Bao again. A lot of heartbreak and a lot of fantastic secondary characters. Really enjoyed it, although it can't compare in epicness with first and second trilogy in this world.
September 9, 2013
There is both reward and danger in reading the books of a series in close succession. Obviously, it’s easier to see the common threads that tie the books together; it’s easier to appreciate the arc of the characters and how events in one book might later affect events in another. I often deepened my appreciation for many series through an extensive re-read (and the same could be said for “marathoning” television shows). Nonetheless, there always exists the problem of burnout, and the temptation to relentlessly compare one book in the series to another. I face the latter problem with Naamah’s Curse. I cannot resist trying to compare it to Naamah’s Kiss.
So rather than tiptoe around this elephant for the entire review, I’m tackling it head-on in a showdown: Naamah’s Kiss versus Naamah’s Curse.
This book picks up immediately where Naamah’s Kiss ends. Having, with Master Lo Feng’s help, resurrected Bao but at the cost of splitting her diadh-anam, Moirin sets off across Ch’in and into the wild Tatar steppes in pursuit of her lover, who himself is seeking answers and solitude. (Yes, she promises to give him space, but apparently that doesn’t extend to an entire country’s worth of space. So she chases after him, because that will make him love her more!)
Moirin falls in with some Tatars, has some good times, and finds Bao. But because this book would suck if it ended on page 100 with a happily-ever-after, Carey engineers a complication: the Great Khan sells Moirin to a fanatical Yeshuite (Christian) who believes it’s his destiny to “save” her by listening to her confess all the dirty sexual acts she’s performed. Hmm.
The first act of Naamah’s Curse cannot hold a candle to Naamah’s Kiss. Carey is at the height of her skill as a writer when she introduces Moirin and speeds through her childhood and adolescence. Moirin grows from a wiry wild thing to a young woman burgeoning with passion and desire. Here, we spend a lot of time listening to the Patriarch of Riva complain about how passion and desire are distractions from serving the One God. Although I liked the reminder that few cultures are as permissive about sex as Terre d’Ange, I found Carey’s portrayal of the Patriarch rather one-dimensional and boring at best. Fanatical though he might be, the idea that he has been spying on Moirin and amassed such a thorough chronicle of her adventures, just because he thinks she is the one being that is the most challenging for him to redeem, doesn’t seem very believable to me.
Notably, there’s much less sex in this book than in the first one. I don’t think Moirin actually has sex until she reunites with Bao, about a hundred pages in. And though the frequency picks up towards the ending, it is never depicted with quite the same relish or detail that features in Naamah’s Kiss. Moirin is no longer the sexual innocent that she was in the first book; indeed, she likens herself to Jehanne as she teaches the Rani a few tricks. It seems that if the first book was Moirin learning to accept and come to terms with her remarkable depth of desire, this book is about Moirin mastering that desire until she can use it for her own ends. This lesson comes full circle when Moirin is confronted with the possibility of seizing the Kamadeva diamond for herself. The diamond’s ability to amplify the desires of anyone who lays eyes upon it would overclock Moirin’s natural attractiveness, turning her into some kind of weird lust goddess. It would not be good times.
Still, I’m going to have to give it to Naamah’s Kiss here. As much as I enjoyed Moirin master her desires here, this book lacks any guiding characters as fun as Jehanne and Raphael. In fact, this book lacks a strong central antagonist. I cited that complaint about the previous book as well, but it wasn’t as much of a problem. Unfortunately, Carey has yet to create a nemesis for Moirin as deliciously twisted as Melisande was for Phèdre. Much like Lord Jiyang from the first book, the Falconer and Spider Queen are pale, stock villains with very little that makes them interesting.
Moirin’s destiny, as indicated by the flickering of her diadh-anam, continues to figure prominently in the plot. She refers to it constantly. Again, I’m not a fan of this. It’s not so much lazy writing as boring writing. Allowing a character the certainty that her actions are “correct” through some objective external instrument removes the ambiguity that should accompany all moral decisions. Carey seems to recognize this problem, because near the climax of the novel she attempts to introduce that ambiguity: Moirin’s diadh-anam refuses to indicate whether killing a man in cold blood while concealed in her magical twilight would be too dishonourable to bear. But it’s a false uncertainty.
Which brings me to the main problem with Naamah’s Curse: Moirin doesn’t suck enough.
Seriously, she faces an amazing number of challenges in this book, and she overcomes them all pretty easily. For example, she eventually begins to go along with the Patriarch in order to lull him into a false sense of security. He gets as far as wanting to baptize her, but he asks her to swear her faith on her diadh-anam. She can’t swear falsely without giving up that spark inside herself, so she refuses. And there’s no drama about the refusal, because we know she can’t do it. Fortunately, the Patriarch’s half-D’Angeline son gets seduced by her hair, so it’s all good.
Moirin’s beauty in Naamah’s Kiss was her vulnerability to external influences. Jehanne and Raphael both wanted something from her. Raphael started using her magic, twisting it for the ends of his Circle, nearly killing her on at least one occasion. This conflict strengthened Moirin and forced her develop into a much more confident person capable of taking action independent of what she thinks her destiny desires from her. In Naamah’s Curse, we see little of that. We see a Moirin on auto-pilot, one who is content to sit back and let things happen. Worse, we see a Moirin who seldom seems tempted, who possesses a certitude so solid as to make her an uninteresting protagonist.
I think at one point she even complains, in what comes as close to breaking the fourth wall as we’ll ever get, that being a heroine is so hard. What did you expect, Moirin? You had the opportunity to stick around Terre d’Ange as a royal companion. You chose the harder path.
Moirin is not a bad character per se. She just lacks for much in the way of challenges in this book, and as a result, her character doesn’t change as swiftly as it did in Naamah’s Kiss. It does change a little, and I like seeing those changes. But if conflict in a book is a river, this is a burbling brook and the first book was raging rapids.
All signs point to the New World (sorry, Terra Nova) for Moirin and a final confrontation with Raphael. (I haven’t yet read the back cover of Naamah’s Blessing as I write this.) I can only hope that she faces the toughest challenges of her life, so she can emerge from them even stronger and take her rightful place alongside Phèdre and Imriel as compelling characters in Carey’s canon.
My reviews of the Moirin trilogy:
← Naamah’s Kiss | Naamah’s Blessing →
Also, check out my reviews of Kushiel’s Legacy!
So rather than tiptoe around this elephant for the entire review, I’m tackling it head-on in a showdown: Naamah’s Kiss versus Naamah’s Curse.
This book picks up immediately where Naamah’s Kiss ends. Having, with Master Lo Feng’s help, resurrected Bao but at the cost of splitting her diadh-anam, Moirin sets off across Ch’in and into the wild Tatar steppes in pursuit of her lover, who himself is seeking answers and solitude. (Yes, she promises to give him space, but apparently that doesn’t extend to an entire country’s worth of space. So she chases after him, because that will make him love her more!)
Moirin falls in with some Tatars, has some good times, and finds Bao. But because this book would suck if it ended on page 100 with a happily-ever-after, Carey engineers a complication: the Great Khan sells Moirin to a fanatical Yeshuite (Christian) who believes it’s his destiny to “save” her by listening to her confess all the dirty sexual acts she’s performed. Hmm.
The first act of Naamah’s Curse cannot hold a candle to Naamah’s Kiss. Carey is at the height of her skill as a writer when she introduces Moirin and speeds through her childhood and adolescence. Moirin grows from a wiry wild thing to a young woman burgeoning with passion and desire. Here, we spend a lot of time listening to the Patriarch of Riva complain about how passion and desire are distractions from serving the One God. Although I liked the reminder that few cultures are as permissive about sex as Terre d’Ange, I found Carey’s portrayal of the Patriarch rather one-dimensional and boring at best. Fanatical though he might be, the idea that he has been spying on Moirin and amassed such a thorough chronicle of her adventures, just because he thinks she is the one being that is the most challenging for him to redeem, doesn’t seem very believable to me.
Notably, there’s much less sex in this book than in the first one. I don’t think Moirin actually has sex until she reunites with Bao, about a hundred pages in. And though the frequency picks up towards the ending, it is never depicted with quite the same relish or detail that features in Naamah’s Kiss. Moirin is no longer the sexual innocent that she was in the first book; indeed, she likens herself to Jehanne as she teaches the Rani a few tricks. It seems that if the first book was Moirin learning to accept and come to terms with her remarkable depth of desire, this book is about Moirin mastering that desire until she can use it for her own ends. This lesson comes full circle when Moirin is confronted with the possibility of seizing the Kamadeva diamond for herself. The diamond’s ability to amplify the desires of anyone who lays eyes upon it would overclock Moirin’s natural attractiveness, turning her into some kind of weird lust goddess. It would not be good times.
Still, I’m going to have to give it to Naamah’s Kiss here. As much as I enjoyed Moirin master her desires here, this book lacks any guiding characters as fun as Jehanne and Raphael. In fact, this book lacks a strong central antagonist. I cited that complaint about the previous book as well, but it wasn’t as much of a problem. Unfortunately, Carey has yet to create a nemesis for Moirin as deliciously twisted as Melisande was for Phèdre. Much like Lord Jiyang from the first book, the Falconer and Spider Queen are pale, stock villains with very little that makes them interesting.
Moirin’s destiny, as indicated by the flickering of her diadh-anam, continues to figure prominently in the plot. She refers to it constantly. Again, I’m not a fan of this. It’s not so much lazy writing as boring writing. Allowing a character the certainty that her actions are “correct” through some objective external instrument removes the ambiguity that should accompany all moral decisions. Carey seems to recognize this problem, because near the climax of the novel she attempts to introduce that ambiguity: Moirin’s diadh-anam refuses to indicate whether killing a man in cold blood while concealed in her magical twilight would be too dishonourable to bear. But it’s a false uncertainty.
Which brings me to the main problem with Naamah’s Curse: Moirin doesn’t suck enough.
Seriously, she faces an amazing number of challenges in this book, and she overcomes them all pretty easily. For example, she eventually begins to go along with the Patriarch in order to lull him into a false sense of security. He gets as far as wanting to baptize her, but he asks her to swear her faith on her diadh-anam. She can’t swear falsely without giving up that spark inside herself, so she refuses. And there’s no drama about the refusal, because we know she can’t do it. Fortunately, the Patriarch’s half-D’Angeline son gets seduced by her hair, so it’s all good.
Moirin’s beauty in Naamah’s Kiss was her vulnerability to external influences. Jehanne and Raphael both wanted something from her. Raphael started using her magic, twisting it for the ends of his Circle, nearly killing her on at least one occasion. This conflict strengthened Moirin and forced her develop into a much more confident person capable of taking action independent of what she thinks her destiny desires from her. In Naamah’s Curse, we see little of that. We see a Moirin on auto-pilot, one who is content to sit back and let things happen. Worse, we see a Moirin who seldom seems tempted, who possesses a certitude so solid as to make her an uninteresting protagonist.
I think at one point she even complains, in what comes as close to breaking the fourth wall as we’ll ever get, that being a heroine is so hard. What did you expect, Moirin? You had the opportunity to stick around Terre d’Ange as a royal companion. You chose the harder path.
Moirin is not a bad character per se. She just lacks for much in the way of challenges in this book, and as a result, her character doesn’t change as swiftly as it did in Naamah’s Kiss. It does change a little, and I like seeing those changes. But if conflict in a book is a river, this is a burbling brook and the first book was raging rapids.
All signs point to the New World (sorry, Terra Nova) for Moirin and a final confrontation with Raphael. (I haven’t yet read the back cover of Naamah’s Blessing as I write this.) I can only hope that she faces the toughest challenges of her life, so she can emerge from them even stronger and take her rightful place alongside Phèdre and Imriel as compelling characters in Carey’s canon.
My reviews of the Moirin trilogy:
← Naamah’s Kiss | Naamah’s Blessing →
Also, check out my reviews of Kushiel’s Legacy!
May 1, 2023
Avis Lecture 🧐 📖 "Naamah's Curse", Terre D'Ange tome 8, Univers de Kushiel Jacqueline Carey 🌹🐻
🎧 Écouté en audiobook que je recommande 🤩
On retrouve Moirin directement après les événements concluant le tome 1 "Naamah's Kiss". Notre héroïne quitte l'Empire de Ch'in pour les steppes tatares. Carey continue de nous faire voyager et nous présente son idée du peuple Mongol avec son Grand Khan et ses étendues sauvages. Moirin devra affronter de nouveaux périls mais la jeune femme est bien décidée à suivre ce que lui dicte son âme, sa diadh'anam...
Si Jaqueulineuh continue de nous faire voyager et ce avec grand plaisir, je n'ai pas été autant convaincu que par le premier volume.
Alors que l'on soit clair, j'ai tout de même mis 4 étoiles à ma lecture, car ça reste très bon malgré tout et ça reste du Carey, mais la reine de la tension dramatique perd un peu de son punch ici.
En effet, je n'ai pas eu de surprises dans ce tome ci. Tout semble déjà facile à deviner et j'ai trouvé Moirin plutôt "fade" comparée au tome 1 où sa personnalité et ses dons faisaient d'elle un personnage de l'entre deux, entre le monde réel et celui des esprits et des divinités.
"Naamah's Curse" se concentre sur la vie personnelle et les sentiments de Moirin ce qui, pour l'entièreté de la trilogie, va très certainement se révéler important, mais qui m'a moins intéressé.
Cependant, encore une fois, ça reste génial et j'ai dévoré l'audiobook 😍❤️
La fin du volume ainsi que le début du dernier et ultime tome "Naamah's Blessing" (oui je n'ai pas résisté, j'ai déjà lancé l'audiobook 😂) annonce déjà un retournement de situation et va, je pense, nous replonger dans ce que j'avais aimé du premier tome.
J'ai du mal à réaliser que je suis sur le point de finir l'univers de Kushiel et Terre D'Ange... 😱
Et vous, ça vous fait quel effet de finir une série ? 🤗
🎧 Écouté en audiobook que je recommande 🤩
On retrouve Moirin directement après les événements concluant le tome 1 "Naamah's Kiss". Notre héroïne quitte l'Empire de Ch'in pour les steppes tatares. Carey continue de nous faire voyager et nous présente son idée du peuple Mongol avec son Grand Khan et ses étendues sauvages. Moirin devra affronter de nouveaux périls mais la jeune femme est bien décidée à suivre ce que lui dicte son âme, sa diadh'anam...
Si Jaqueulineuh continue de nous faire voyager et ce avec grand plaisir, je n'ai pas été autant convaincu que par le premier volume.
Alors que l'on soit clair, j'ai tout de même mis 4 étoiles à ma lecture, car ça reste très bon malgré tout et ça reste du Carey, mais la reine de la tension dramatique perd un peu de son punch ici.
En effet, je n'ai pas eu de surprises dans ce tome ci. Tout semble déjà facile à deviner et j'ai trouvé Moirin plutôt "fade" comparée au tome 1 où sa personnalité et ses dons faisaient d'elle un personnage de l'entre deux, entre le monde réel et celui des esprits et des divinités.
"Naamah's Curse" se concentre sur la vie personnelle et les sentiments de Moirin ce qui, pour l'entièreté de la trilogie, va très certainement se révéler important, mais qui m'a moins intéressé.
Cependant, encore une fois, ça reste génial et j'ai dévoré l'audiobook 😍❤️
La fin du volume ainsi que le début du dernier et ultime tome "Naamah's Blessing" (oui je n'ai pas résisté, j'ai déjà lancé l'audiobook 😂) annonce déjà un retournement de situation et va, je pense, nous replonger dans ce que j'avais aimé du premier tome.
J'ai du mal à réaliser que je suis sur le point de finir l'univers de Kushiel et Terre D'Ange... 😱
Et vous, ça vous fait quel effet de finir une série ? 🤗
July 16, 2011
Book two of Everybody Wants Moirin. Sorry, that's not the title. Ahem. Anyway, with the usual caveats applied to Jacqueline Carey's writing -- the prose is slightly archaic and may put you off; everybody falls in love with the heroine and wants to sleep with her; it's probably more than a tad heretical, etc -- I enjoyed it a lot. It's been a while since I sat down with a book and raced through it in a day, which contributes to my enjoyment: it's very good to get lost in a fictional world on occasion. I heartily recommend the experience, even if everybody's got different tastes on that score. But you guys on GoodReads know this, as do most of my friends...
Anyway. This story continues to take Moirin across the world. I think she examines the things around her less than Phèdre did -- certainly I didn't feel that the world was as rich and sparkling and full of learning as I did. I did wince a little at Carey's decision to have Moirin basically reform the Indian caste system. Okay, it's really the efforts of the Rani Amrita that gets things done, but white (sorry, 'honey-skinned') Moirin and her gods are the ones that bring this message. I still enjoyed it, but I did think it more than a bit problematic. Undoubtedly having a caste of untouchables is a terrible thing from our point of view, but the white races thinking they know better have caused plenty of problems of their own.
I'm looking forward to the third book, and have a pretty good idea where it's going. Bao and Moirin are no Phèdre and Joscelin -- they don't make me heartsick and frightened for them -- but I do want to know what they do next.
Anyway. This story continues to take Moirin across the world. I think she examines the things around her less than Phèdre did -- certainly I didn't feel that the world was as rich and sparkling and full of learning as I did. I did wince a little at Carey's decision to have Moirin basically reform the Indian caste system. Okay, it's really the efforts of the Rani Amrita that gets things done, but white (sorry, 'honey-skinned') Moirin and her gods are the ones that bring this message. I still enjoyed it, but I did think it more than a bit problematic. Undoubtedly having a caste of untouchables is a terrible thing from our point of view, but the white races thinking they know better have caused plenty of problems of their own.
I'm looking forward to the third book, and have a pretty good idea where it's going. Bao and Moirin are no Phèdre and Joscelin -- they don't make me heartsick and frightened for them -- but I do want to know what they do next.
June 23, 2010
This is the second book in what looks like will be another trilogy in the Terre d'Ange world, following young Moirin who is the half-breed child of a bear-witch from Alba and a priest of Naamah. While I avidly devoured the book due to my love of this fantasy world, it is by far the weakest book written to date. Much of Moirin's travels and troubles are milksop reflections of those experienced by Phedre in the Kushiel's series, and many characters are rather one-dimensional without much depth or change. There is a long episode where Moirin is captured by essentially a martial Christian group, whose leader avidly and lewdly captures her "confessions" of her "sinful" lifestyle while plotting how to damage her spirit and remove her magic - this was a truly terrifying scenario, with echoes of similar sects present in the world today. The end of the book is as a good fairy tale, but with enough foreshadowing with the clue-bat that I already have a good idea of what will happen in the third book. I hope that it is stronger than this one, as I don't want to be disappointed again.
October 6, 2010
Sexy sequel to Naamah’s Kiss, tells the story of a god-touched young woman’s journey across a continent in search of her wandering lover/soulmate. I first got hooked onto Carey’s writing due to her original “Kushiel Legacy” books featuring Phedre no Delaunay, and I’ve followed all her work ever since, though my preference is still for her novels set in the Terre D’Ange universe. With these books, Carey has created a world and a mythos behind it that really can’t be beat. Anyway, I liked her second trilogy featuring Prince Imriel well enough, so I was quite excited when I heard she was going to be writing another series focusing on a new character in a different time, but still set in the same world. Naamah’s Curse is the second installment in this series, which I feel is progressing nicely. The characters, though not as well-written (especially Moirin, who I feel is more of an air-head and a Mary Sue than all of Carey’s other protagonists), still shine in their own way and the stories continue to interest me.
July 31, 2018
77 points/100 (4 stars/5).
Separated from half of her soul, Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn sets off to reunite with her beloved Bao. Traveling alone across foreign lands, Moirin finds herself taken from her destiny. Struggling to get back on track and find her Bao, Moirin has to do what she can to both survive and accomplish her mission.
I enjoyed a lot of things about this book. I quite enjoyed this book across the Tatar lands. It was when everything went wrong when I sighed and went "Not again...". Just once, I think I would like things to go as planned in this world. It is pretty predictable that just when things are going fine in the middle of a book, everything goes completely to hell. The only thing to do is to wait for it to happen. I don't even stress about it anymore, because it is so predictable.
The beginning to this book was great. I really enjoyed Moirin setting off on her own to search for her love. Especially since she didn't always speak the language that the natives spoke. Everything was new to her, and it made for rough going. She made friends along the way, she found some kinship with people. It was fun and interesting.
Then comes the part where...frankly I'm the most confused about this part. The Yeshuites are back, and this time they seem to have been corrupted by the will of man and time.
I don't like it.
Until now, there have been many Gods and Goddesses, beliefs, and deeds. They have always, ALWAYS been respected, even if the D'Angeline gods took priority in the eyes of the protagonists. They'll even pray to other gods, because it can't hurt. I've always been fine with this. Religion isn't exactly my thing, but I have always respected others for their beliefs. Even if their strangely sex based religion was a bit odd at times, I was fine with it. In fact, I am even pretty amazed at the spiritual setup Carey has had until now. All they ever asked was that you love as you want, and if you want to love the gods you love, go right ahead. They'll try and understand you, but you have to understand that in their eyes, Elua and his followers are it for them. It is a bit idealistic, but it is well set up with a wealth of belief and history set up to justify it all.
This book is the complete opposite of that. Moirin follows Naamah and Elua, and her Bear Goddess. Other than that, pretty much every religious idea in the book is only around for Carey and Moirin to tear it apart. Everything about every other religion is cast in the absolute worst light. They either have to or want to change everything about what is going on. They try to show the good sides, but really it is only dressing to show that these religions are supposed to have depth to them when we refuse to explore that depth.
I just don't understand how we went from an idea of acceptance to an idea of vileness, even outright hatred of religious beliefs.
That is really the biggest part to this book, the religious aspect. There isn't much else other than reuniting with Bao and traveling over vast lands across different countries. There is some peace in the beginning, where it is just about the fun of exploring and meeting new people. Actually, that happens a few times in the book, but Moirin always has to leave the people she comes to like.
Honestly, sometimes it felt like things went a bit too easy for Moirin. She gets caught out in a deadly ice storm, magically appearing cows save her. She is out of supplies, she somehow manages to find someone to help her just enough to get what she needs and no more with what meager stuff she has left. She falls ill in a camp hostile to her, she somehow makes friends with the one person willing to help her. For every trial Moirin has, there is something to make her journey easier than it should have been. Perhaps that is because her gods are looking after her.
I actually really like Moirin as a character. I love her personality. It is infectiously happy when she is happy. It is able to drag me down into a deep depression when she is sad. She has a goal, she will see it accomplished. That is all she is worried about. She is still a very simple person, not quite dragged down by all the shit thrown her way. I really like her.
I enjoyed a lot of the book. I loved exploring the Eastern part of Eurasia. I loved most of the secondary characters in addition to Moirin. I was just confused and kind of hurt by the religious aspects
Separated from half of her soul, Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn sets off to reunite with her beloved Bao. Traveling alone across foreign lands, Moirin finds herself taken from her destiny. Struggling to get back on track and find her Bao, Moirin has to do what she can to both survive and accomplish her mission.
I enjoyed a lot of things about this book. I quite enjoyed this book across the Tatar lands. It was when everything went wrong when I sighed and went "Not again...". Just once, I think I would like things to go as planned in this world. It is pretty predictable that just when things are going fine in the middle of a book, everything goes completely to hell. The only thing to do is to wait for it to happen. I don't even stress about it anymore, because it is so predictable.
The beginning to this book was great. I really enjoyed Moirin setting off on her own to search for her love. Especially since she didn't always speak the language that the natives spoke. Everything was new to her, and it made for rough going. She made friends along the way, she found some kinship with people. It was fun and interesting.
Then comes the part where...frankly I'm the most confused about this part. The Yeshuites are back, and this time they seem to have been corrupted by the will of man and time.
I don't like it.
Until now, there have been many Gods and Goddesses, beliefs, and deeds. They have always, ALWAYS been respected, even if the D'Angeline gods took priority in the eyes of the protagonists. They'll even pray to other gods, because it can't hurt. I've always been fine with this. Religion isn't exactly my thing, but I have always respected others for their beliefs. Even if their strangely sex based religion was a bit odd at times, I was fine with it. In fact, I am even pretty amazed at the spiritual setup Carey has had until now. All they ever asked was that you love as you want, and if you want to love the gods you love, go right ahead. They'll try and understand you, but you have to understand that in their eyes, Elua and his followers are it for them. It is a bit idealistic, but it is well set up with a wealth of belief and history set up to justify it all.
This book is the complete opposite of that. Moirin follows Naamah and Elua, and her Bear Goddess. Other than that, pretty much every religious idea in the book is only around for Carey and Moirin to tear it apart. Everything about every other religion is cast in the absolute worst light. They either have to or want to change everything about what is going on. They try to show the good sides, but really it is only dressing to show that these religions are supposed to have depth to them when we refuse to explore that depth.
I just don't understand how we went from an idea of acceptance to an idea of vileness, even outright hatred of religious beliefs.
That is really the biggest part to this book, the religious aspect. There isn't much else other than reuniting with Bao and traveling over vast lands across different countries. There is some peace in the beginning, where it is just about the fun of exploring and meeting new people. Actually, that happens a few times in the book, but Moirin always has to leave the people she comes to like.
Honestly, sometimes it felt like things went a bit too easy for Moirin. She gets caught out in a deadly ice storm, magically appearing cows save her. She is out of supplies, she somehow manages to find someone to help her just enough to get what she needs and no more with what meager stuff she has left. She falls ill in a camp hostile to her, she somehow makes friends with the one person willing to help her. For every trial Moirin has, there is something to make her journey easier than it should have been. Perhaps that is because her gods are looking after her.
I actually really like Moirin as a character. I love her personality. It is infectiously happy when she is happy. It is able to drag me down into a deep depression when she is sad. She has a goal, she will see it accomplished. That is all she is worried about. She is still a very simple person, not quite dragged down by all the shit thrown her way. I really like her.
I enjoyed a lot of the book. I loved exploring the Eastern part of Eurasia. I loved most of the secondary characters in addition to Moirin. I was just confused and kind of hurt by the religious aspects
March 21, 2021
It was a pleasure return to the universe, the language and the characters. Jacqueline Carey has an unbelievable beautiful use of language, which ensures that every part of the universe, in the readers mind is crystal clear. It is almost that I, apart from being able to see the nature, even can smell it. The different flowers, trees, soil and so on. Everything seems so alive that a reader, really do step into another world. Within the first couple of pages in the book, are we greeted by a map, that coincidently looks a lot like Europe and Asia. Here we can see Moirins journey. I had still wish that especially mountains and larger geographical markers was depicted. That would make Moirins progress easier to spot and follow.
The rest of the review can be found on my blog bogbien.wordpress.com - I hope you'll like it.
The rest of the review can be found on my blog bogbien.wordpress.com - I hope you'll like it.
December 26, 2021
This book definitely has its flaws, and I agree with almost every single criticism I am reading in the reviews of this book. It is middle-bookish, and it is overbroad in its voyages, and its messages are too easy, as are the moral choices of the very well-guided Moirin (who, it is true, is not Phèdre). But I cannot ignore the absolute wonder and joy of Carey being such a good storyteller, especially after resuming the series after a three-year break, and I felt like I floated through reading this (as is customary) big, big book, reflecting every now and again on how grateful I am that I ever started reading these books, almost twelve years ago.
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