Lucas Blogs About The City of Brass

Not pictured: any indication that this book is the first in a series.

So, what's this book's deal?

Oh? You mean besides being a book of lies?

More so than any other work of fiction?

I'll say. When a book is the first entry in a series that information should be clearly communicated on the cover, spine, or title pa-

Wait, you're getting all bent out of shape over the fact that a fantasy novel is the first book in a series?

No. I'm getting all bent out of shape because the publisher (Harper Voyager) failed to mention this fact. If I'd known that ahead of time, it might have affected my purchasing decision. It's just common curtesy.

Hmm. I'll bet you're just mad because it took you an embarrassingly long time to figure out that this wouldn't be a standalone novel, aren't you?

What? No! Maybe! Shut up!

This book's deal is that it's a fantasy novel by S.A. Chakraborty. Our protagonist, Nahri, uses her innate healing ability to make a living as a con-artist and apothecary's assistant in Cairo during the Napoleonic wars. Until that is, she accidentally summons a Djinn warrior (well, a Daeva warrior, it's a whole thing). The Daeva, Dara, absconds with Nahri on a magic carpet to save her from a pack of ghouls. Meanwhile our other protagonist, Prince Alizayd al-Qhatani (yes, there is a Prince Ali in this book, no, he doesn't bear any resemblance to the fictive Prince Ali from Aladdin), has been funding a Islamic cleric that speaks out for the rights of the shafit (human-djinn hybrids) in Daevabad. However, their relationship is complicated by the fact that the money has also been spent on weapons. Meanwhile, Dara tells Nahri that not only is she a shafit, but she's also the last descendant of the Nahids, the former ruling family of Daevabad who were deposed by Ali's ancestors. Follow me so far, Hypothetical reader?

So you're saying this book is about a city full of genies?

Essentially, yes.

And amongst said genies, there are ethnic tensions, and historical grievances?

Yes. Though I should point out that they prefer to be called Djinn, except for those of them who prefer to be called Daevas.

Okay, I gotcha. So I take it that Nahri's presence complicates said tensions and grievances?

Indeed, as an heir of the Nahids, she's a direct threat to Ali's father. She also finds herself befriended by Ali, who wishes to improve his colloquial Arabic (each of the Djinn ethnicities has their own language, and, as a devout Muslim, Ali is familiar with the classical Arabic of the Quran). Meanwhile, the city's Daeva population initially embrace her but are distressed by her lack of knowledge regarding their culture and religion (while most Djinn at least nominally follow Islam, the Daeva practice an older religion). And that's not even getting into the Djinn who've been enslaved and forced to use their magic for human masters.

Oh, like Genie, the genie from Aladdin, or Jeannie, the genie from I Dream of Jeannie.

Uh, kinda. But it's more about the difficulty involved in freeing them, and the further difficulties they face in reintegrating into society.

You're not making this sound pretty serious.

Well, it's played pretty straight. It's got adventure elements, like in Nahri and Dara's trip to Daevabad or the (SPOILER ALERT) daring escape attempt at the end. Oh, and if shipping's your thing, there's plenty of potential for romantic tension to work with when it comes to Ali and Nahri or Dara and Nahri, or Ali's brother Muntadir and various characters. But, at the same time, since everyone's lying to everyone else about something or other, there isn't any neat resolution in sight to any of the storylines.

So, why aren't you calling them genies?

Well, oddly enough, I have been when describing the book to people IRL. But "genies" carries all the baggage of western pop-culture portrayals where they're these sort of fun-loving mischief makers. And while I'm not familiar enough with folklore regarding djinn, daevas, ifrit, marids, and peris to know how much of her portrayals are her own invention. Chakraborty manages to create a complex setting where these beings can exist and interact with each other realistically. One that has a tangible, lived-in feel, thanks to an occasionally glimpsed fictional history.

And really, the book isn't even about the fact that they can do magic (a past event has severely limited their magic power anyway). Like any good "outcast discovers she can do magic and that there's a place she can fit in" book, it's really about Nahri discovering that just because she finds a place with people like herself, she won't just magically fit in. Sure, she gets to fulfill her life ambition of practicing medicine, but everything she's learned at the apothecary is useless for treating the kinds of magical ailments she encounters in Daevabad. Further complicating that is the fact that she's the court healer and the consequences for failure could be dire.

So, do you like it?

I do. With the caveat that I was annoyed to realize that it wasn't a stand-alone novel. I'm definitely down for reading the rest of the series, especially after the cliffhanging, recontextualizing info-reveal in the epilogue (is it a spoiler to reveal that a book ends in a cliffhanger? It probably isn't. Is it?). However, c'mon publishers, it can't be that hard to let people know you're publishing a series, I mean, if you are publishing a series wouldn't you want to make that information public?

You gotta let that go, Lucas.

NEVER!

The City of Brass, Harper Voyager Hardcover edition, 2017, 526 pages, pairs well with the cold, stinging realization that you can't trust anyone to tell you the truth

Links:

SA Chkraborty's website, if you're into that kinda thing.

Book two in the Daevabad trilogy, The Kingdom of Copper, comes out in January.

Not just one but two interviews in which the author discusses the historical inspiration for this novel, along with her thoughts about Islamic representation, and her place in that discussion as a white woman who converted to Islam as a teenager . . . and the fact that it's the start of a planned trilogy. I usually don't get this wordy in the links, but apparently if I'd done more research than reading the first chapter in the bookstore, I wouldn't have been so surprised to find out that I was starting to read a series.

Hey, just thought I'd drop in with a quick blog-schedule update. So Monday's look at Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was indeed the last entry in Books That Made Me Cry for the time being. So starting next week, Lucas Blogs About X is moving to Mondays, with Simplified Series and an upcoming new feature posting on alternating Thursdays.