Lucas Blogs About Kingdom of Copper

Shiny!

So, what's this book's dea—wait a minute, isn't this the sequel to that one book?

I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.

You know, that one where you spent a not insignificant portion of the review complaining about the fact that it didn't say that it was the first entry in a series?

Oh. That. Yes, this is the sequel to that book. Specifically, this is The Kingdom of Copper by S.A. Chakraborty. The follow up to The City of Brass, and, as pointed out on the title page, the second book in the Daevabad trilogy.

Depicted: A common courtesy.

You're not going to harp on that again, are you?

Not any more than I already have. So, this book's deal is that it's a historical fantasy set in a kingdom of djinn (also daevas). Here's a quick refresher: back in the day, these fire elemental beings called daevas used to prey on humans. That is until the prophet Suleiman forced them to submit to his will through the use of a seal that he entrusted to the ruling Nahid family. Now some of the daevas refused to submit and they're now know as ifrit and will often bind other daevas to objects like lamps or rings and force them to grant wishes to humans. Some time later, it became known that the Nahids were mistreating the shafit (human-djinn hybrids) and they were overthrown by Alizayd al-Qahtani. Al-Qahtani lead a coalition of daevas from Am Gezira (the Arabian peninsula) who have converted to Islam and started calling themselves djinn. In fact, most of the daevas now call themselves djinn, with the exception of the daevas from Daevastana (Persia). The City of Brass begins when Nahri, a con-woman and street healer from Cairo, accidentally summons a previously enslaved daeva warrior named Darayavahoush (Dara for short) who takes her back to Daevabad. There she is revealed to be the daughter of Manizheh, the deceased (or is she) Banu Nahida. Anyway, this sets in motion all manner of court intrigue, including her friendship with the younger Qahtani prince Alizayd (Ali or Zaydi for short, and yes, he is named after the aforementioned Alizayd Al-Qahtani), and culminates with a deadly duel between Dara and Ali which leaves both temporarily dead.

Temporarily?

Remember, magic is a thing. Anyway, Dara kills Ali who is revived by the marid (water elementals living in the lake next to Daevabad) and then kills Dara. So, let's talk about the events of this book.

Yes, let's.

This is also my first criticism of the book. The prologue of this book should have been the epilogue of the previous book. It establishes what each of the three main characters (Nahri, Dara, and Ali) did immediately following the end of The City of Brass then jumps forward five years in Chapter One. But here's what happened: Nahri, in an effort to keep herself alive, agreed to marry Ali's older brother, the Emir, Muntadhir. Ali's father, having learned of his Ali's financial support of a cleric who funded violent attacks to defend the shafit, banished him to their ancestral homeland in Am Gezira, where he was almost certain to be assassinated. Meanwhile Dara, seemingly dead for good at the end of the last book, is pulled back from Paradise into the world of the living by Manizheh who is, in fact, still alive. But there's a catch, Dara now looks like one of the ifrit, which, fun fact, is what all the djinn and daevas looked like before submitting to Suleiman. Anyway, five years later, Nahri is finally finding fulfillment as the palace healer, Ali is living simply as a well digger in a small village (perhaps some of the marids' water power has rubbed off on him, hm?), and Dara is training a group of young daevas to help Manizheh reclaim the throne for the Nahid family. And it's possible that they might succeed. Although King Ghassan is planning an elaborate once a generation festival, Daevabad is in pretty dire straits. Tax revenues are down, the rich are living lavishly while the commoners go without, and shafit are being sold into slavery under the pretense of being reunited with their pure-blooded relatives. So I think you can see what kinds of conflict might be brewing.

I think so, but how does Chakraborty get Ali back to Daevabad if he's been banished?

Oh, well, one day a cousin of his (on his mother's side) shows up in his village asking for his assistance in safely bringing tax payments to Daevabad. Then he just disappears, knowing that a goody-goody like Ali will feel obligated to take the taxes there himself. This, of course, leads to awkward reunions with Nahri and his family.

Okay, so I can see that there's plenty of material for drama, but is it good?

Yes. As with the first book, The Kingdom of Copper is a tightly plotted palace intrigue novel. Although the cast of characters might seem a bit ungainly at first, Chakraborty keeps things manageable by limiting herself to three point of view characters (Nahri, Dara, and Ali, obvs), who are each privy to information that the others don't have, and who move in circles that the others can't (literally, in Dara's case, since he physically can't enter Daevabad). And what do these three have in common?

They were the viewpoint characters in the previous novel.

No. I mean, yes, Nahri and Ali were, but also, each occupies a position of privilege that (for various reasons) does not come with an equivalent degree of power. That said, each of them is trying to use what power they do have to help people they feel are oppressed. Nahri and Ali want to rebuild the old Nahid hospital and open its doors to both djinn and shafit, even going so far as to allow shafit doctors to practice medicine from the human world. Meanwhile, Dara is attempting to retake a city where he believes that his people are being oppressed by invaders. He's not entirely wrong, ever since his attempted rebellion in the previous book, daevas have been kicked out of the royal guard and been subject to much stricter scrutiny. That said, they also aren't onboard with the idea of shafit equality, and also, Manizheh is perfectly willing to adopt cutthroat strategies to reclaim a throne she believes is hers. And Dara is willing to go along with it.

You're getting a little in the weeds there.

I guess so, but it's hard to talk about a 600+ page fantasy novel without getting a little in the weeds. Anyway, the point is that—like the first book—The Kingdom of Copper isn't just concerned with what's going on in the palace (or among people who want to occupy it) but in how that actually affects the people living in the kingdom. It also delves into the historic tensions between various djinn ethnic groups and the tensions between djinn and other creatures like the marid.

So, are these tensions meant to mirror any specific conflicts in history?

Ummm. I suspect not. That said, the various grievances and reprisals depicted in the novel (whether based on specific incidents or not) track as similar enough to history to be believable.  And that's good. Similarly, the goals of the characters involved in the palace intrigue parts of the story all track. Everyone is working towards a goal that makes sense to them, and Chakraborty does a good job of communicating this to the reader. She's a little more wishy-washy on how exactly magic works. Obviously, the djinn and marid are both inherently magical, and certain djinn have a talent for certain kinds of magic, but sometimes it's not as clear why certain characters can do some things with magic and others can't. Without giving away the ending, which, is once again a cliff-hanger, the magic used in the finale seems somewhat unprecedented in the setting, and I'm curious how exactly Chakraborty intends to explain it.

But you are curious?

Yes, I would like to know how she plans to wrap everything up and to find out if the story has a satisfying ending. Beacuse, like the first book, the cliff-hanger ending doesn't really resolve the plot in any meaningful way.

So the Daevabad Trilogy is less a series of stories and one longer story broken up?

I'd say so, yes. But it's still been a good read so far. I just hope Chakraborty sticks the landing.

The Kingdom of Copper by S.A. Chakraborty, Harper Voyager hardcover edition, 2019, 609 pages, pairs well with palm wine and somber consideration of the difficulties of municipal policy

Links:

Here's the author's website, if you're into that kinda thing.

Here's something Chakraborty wrote for Barnes and Noble about the setting.

And here's an interview she gave to Lightspeed magazine which touches on some fascinating aspects of the books that I haven't gotten into here.

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