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4.07 AVERAGE
4.07 AVERAGE
New entry in the djinn universe where most of the characters from the earlier stories get to interact. Multiple times. I love Fatma, especially her sartorial style.
adventurous
funny
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
fast-paced
adventurous
challenging
informative
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
adventurous
dark
funny
informative
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
adventurous
funny
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Tolle Welt, coole Action und interessante Charaktere. Klasse! Ich hoffe es kommt noch mehr
Agent Fatma is an investigator of magic-related incidents in an alt-history, steampunk 1912 Cairo populated by magical beings like djinn, ifrits and ghuls. She is assigned to a murder investigation in which a secret society of British Egyptophiles have been killed by magical means; the chief suspect is a mysterious figure claiming to be al-Jahiz, the vanished Sudanese mystic who opened the portal that brought magic back into the world.
If this sounds like a pretty standard urban fantasy police procedural dressed up in Egyptian garb—well, it is.
That Egyptian garb is where this story really shines. Egyptian culture infuses the narrative: the beings from Islamic mythology that populate the city, the bazaars of Cairo, the food, the clothing, the lurking presence of European colonial powers with designs on the region (though in this alternate history, Egypt has leveraged its magic to become a world power). Obviously, this is not meant to be a fully accurate reflection of early 20th century Egypt, given the other facets of the alternate timeline—we have steampunk technology like airships and clockwork golems referred to as boilerplate eunuchs, sects that actively worship the ancient Egyptian gods, and cultural mores that are a good deal more progressive than in our reality (same-sex relationships and female cross-dressing seem to be readily accepted, although it’s explicitly discussed how many have not fully adjusted to women in the workplace). But given Clark’s credentials as a history scholar, I have to trust that his research is thorough, and that the aspects of the society presented as authentic are in fact so. He peppers Arabic words for things like food and clothing liberally throughout the text, without any translation or explanation—a valid choice which lends verisimilitude to the worldbuilding, but may also render some passages opaque for English-speakers unfamiliar with the vocabulary. I especially liked the many references to classic Arabic literature and how deftly Clark uses them to add to not only the worldbuilding, but characterization and plot as well.
The prose is competent, though not of the quality that would make me sit back and admire it for its own sake. The tone of the narrative is fairly light, with characters both human and djinn showing their comic foibles in a way that is clearly intended to be endearing. At times this humorous touch felt like it was overly self-conscious and trying too hard. In fact, I found that a great deal of the plot, characterization and social commentary were delivered with a very heavy hand, at times verging on clumsy. A number of plot elements were reintroduced after being initially introduced in the novelette “A Dead Djinn in Cairo”—e.g. the angels that show up as a critical plot element late in Act 2 with no previous set-up, or what is clearly intended to be a *big reveal* about a certain stolen item that we are actually just hearing about for the first time in the current book. Reading A Master of Djinn first, these introductions felt abrupt and confusing, without the sense of shocked recognition described in the characters, which the reader was obviously supposed to feel as well. (Incidentally, I did go back to read “A Dead Djinn in Cairo” after finishing this novel, because I wanted to see what I had been missing. I found it to be a very rushed, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am of a mystery, too fast to fit in any depth of character development or worldbuilding, or even any real sense of tension. So I’m not sure that actually solved the problems I had with A Master of Djinn).
The mystery here was ultimately disappointing as well—I spotted the true villain fairly early on, thanks to the blatantly transparent initials clue , then spent the rest of the book frustrated that Fatma overlooked what seemed extremely obvious. It felt especially painful given that she is an underestimated woman underestimating another woman. It felt like the major progress in solving the mystery came from Fatma questioning a person of interest and them simply handing her the information she needed to advance. (NB in “A Dead Djinn in Cairo” she is literally waylaid and pinned down by a stranger on the street who then takes her to an associate who explains the whole mystery to her. Great detective work, this is not).
The characterization in general felt rather one-note, verging on cartoony. The British characters in particular felt like fairly cardboard cutout racist imperialists, explicitly set up for mockery and condemnation—not an undeserved portrayal, and there were some lines of dialogue that were very satisfyingly skewering—but if you are looking for three-dimensional villains, this is not it. The text is extremely insistent that we accept Fatma as an amazing young prodigy of an investigator (despite the lackluster detective work I described above), and desperately wants us be charmed by how DAPPER and QUIRKY she is in her European men’s suits. Honestly, it felt kind of like being repeatedly whacked on the head with a bowler hat. Cross-dressing in foreign clothes is not an adequate substitute for a personality. I liked Hadia better, with her stylish modern hijabs, although the whole “I have a cousin…” schtick is very stale and really felt like a bit of a cultural stereotype. Siti just irritated me. She was just constantly smug and coy, and had absolutely zero chemistry with Fatma (although I suppose no one really has chemistry with an empty suit). The villain, at the end, is reduced to a cackling, mustache-twirling caricature worthy of a Scooby-Doo mystery.
All the glowing reviews of this book talk about its critique of imperialism and colonialism, so I suppose I have to address that. Yes. It does critique imperialism and colonialism. But so do a significant number of other fantasy book I’ve read recently—it seems almost de rigeur for fantasy being published today. This is only natural—fantasy and science fiction tend toward the political, and we’re really just surfacing from a long stretch of time when conquest and hegemonic power were uncritically glorified, so it makes sense that a lot of SFF authors are now grappling with that pivot in perspective through fiction. (Top of mind for me are M.A. Carrick’s Rook and Rose series and Arkady Martine’s A Memory Called Empire, both of which depict colonialism/imperialism with a great deal of nuance and sensitivity without pulling punches on the criticism). I didn’t find Clark’s novel to be especially remarkable in that regard. Because his fictional Egypt is not actually conquered or colonized, he’s not illustrating the perspective of a conquered or colonized people or exploring any complex dynamics between colonizers and colonized; all we see is toothless, would-be imperialist Brits bragging about their superiority in a way that deliberately positions them for ridicule. It’s funny, and satisfying, but I didn’t find it to be particularly incisive or sophisticated.
I listened to the audiobook. The narration is by Suehyla El-Attar, who is an American of Egyptian descent and does the whole thing in what I trust is an Egyptian accent. I know nothing about the nuances of Arabic or Egyptian accents, but it sounded good to me and I enjoyed that aspect of the narration. However, I found a lot of the voices to be very over acted to the point of being cartoony; the British accents were also very bad. One of the characters, Fatma’s partner Hadia, is described as having learned English in the States and speaking it with an American accent; those few lines of dialogue are the only times when the narrator slips into her natural American accent.
This is ultimately a light urban fantasy romp with strong comic book vibes, with weak plotting and characterization dressed up with novel and evocative worldbuilding. If it had been sold to me this way, I might still have read it and been inclined to be more generous with my rating, bumping it up to 4 stars for fulfilling expectations. However, all the awards hype along with Clark’s academic credentials led me to expect something much more nuanced and sophisticated—hence the more critical lens. I actually think this would make a great graphic novel—it’s full of powerful visual cues and action, and in the hands of the right artist, this could be absolutely gorgeous. If Clark ever puts out a graphic novel version—or a new story set in this world in graphic novel form—I would be tempted to buy it despite my complaints about this one. Beyond that, I’m not particularly motivated to read more in this world.
adventurous
dark
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No