Jacqueline Carey

Kushiel’s Legacy — (2001-2008) Publisher: The land of Terre d'Ange is a place of unsurpassing beauty and grace. It is said that angels found the land and saw it was good... and the ensuing race that rose from the seed of angels and men live by one simple rule: Love as thou wilt. Phédre no Delaunay is a young woman who was born with a scarlet mote in her left eye. Sold into indentured servitude as a child, her bond is purchased by Anafiel Delaunay, a nobleman with very a special mission... and the first one to recognize who and what she is: one pricked by Kushiel's Dart, chosen to forever experience pain and pleasure as one. Phédre is trained equally in the courtly arts and the talents of the bedchamber, but, above all, the ability to observe, remember, and analyze. Almost as talented a spy as she is courtesan, Phédre stumbles upon a plot that threatens the very foundations of her homeland. Treachery sets her on her path; love and honor goad her further. And in the doing, it will take her to the edge of despair... and beyond. Hateful friend, loving enemy, beloved assassin; they can all wear the same glittering mask in this world, and Phédre will get but one chance to save all that she holds dear. Set in a world of cunning poets, deadly courtiers, heroic traitors, and a truly Machiavellian villainess, this is a novel of grandeur, luxuriance, sacrifice, betrayal, and deeply laid conspiracies.

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Kushiel's Dart

Kushiel’s Dart is the story of Phèdre, marked as a masochist by the angel of pain and punishment, and trained from youth as a courtesan and spy. The book follows her through her childhood and then the vicissitudes of one fateful year, in which Phèdre learns more about pain and love than she had ever dreamed possible. Tragedy strikes her comfortable life, and she is sold into slavery among the Skaldi (analogous to Vikings), and must use her talents and her wits to survive. The Skaldi plot to take over Phèdre's home country of Terre d'Ange, and Phèdre is stunned by the fact that several nobles she knows are complicit in the plot. She escapes to warn her Queen, but finds herself assigned to a dangerous mission in Alba (Britain), which will further test her skills and her emotional strength. The climax comes with a battle scene as adrenaline-laced as the siege of Minas Tirith, and Kushiel's Dart ends with the aftermath of that battle.

I don't think I understood, until I finished the novel, how thoroughly Jacqueline Carey had woven the mingling of pleasure and pain into the story. The two are forever mingled in Phèdre's life, but it goes far beyond the bedroom. Great victories are won, but we are never allowed to forget those who died to make it possible. Many fantasy novels focus on the triumphs of a handful of nobles while seeming to forget the commoner blood spilled to achieve the nobles' goals. This is not one of them. War in Carey's world is always a tragedy, no matter who wins, because there are good and bad people on all sides, and because the participants are made real to us instead of just pawns on the chessboard. Love, too, is a double-edged sword. What if you found the bravest, kindest, most loyal man you could possibly desire, but could never be satisfied with him because he could not satisfy your darkest proclivities? And what if you knew you would forever long for a cruel traitor who had the blood of your family on her hands, but who was the only one who truly understood your cravings? Love and pain are never far apart. By the end of the book, we've all been pricked by Kushiel's dart.

Kushiel’s Dart is quite long; after a few Kushiel books, one comes to realize that each installment tends to have enough plot for three separate books! This seemed almost forbiddingly long to me on my first read, but it’s an aspect of Carey’s style that I’ve since become accustomed to, and at any rate the plot kept me riveted throughout. I highly recommend Kushiel’s Dart. It’s quite good and has afforded me a great deal of rereading pleasure over the years. —Kelly Lasiter

Kushiel's Dart

I read and enjoyed Kushiel’s Dart years ago after it won the Locus Award for Best First Novel and I’ve recently re-read it so that I can finish the series (I’ve read only the first trilogy) and move on to Ms. Carey’s newer books. This time I listened to Tantor Audio’s version, which was read by the incredibly talented Anne Flosnik.

The Kushiel series is set in an alternate Europe which is easily recognized by its geography, language, culture, religion, mythology, and politics (e.g., ancient Tiberium is ancient Rome, Alba is England, the Yeshuites are Christians, the Tsingani are gypsies, etc.). The greatest difference in this alternate Europe is the religion, for when Yeshua hung on the cross, his shed blood mingled with the Magdalene’s tears and produced Elua, who roamed the Earth in the company of the angel Naamah who supported him by working as a prostitute. Eventually he was accepted in Terre d’Ange (France), a passionate land upon whom he bestowed his beauty and whom he taught to “love as thou wilt.” And so they do, with little restraint and without any pesky hang-ups about heterosexuality or monogamy. In fact, men and women serve Naamah as sacred prostitutes in the Night Court.

Phèdre has been rejected by the Night Court because of the scarlet mote in her eye. But scholar Anafiel Delaunay recognizes the blemish (it’s Kushiel’s Dart) and what it symbolizes: Phèdre is the first anguissette born in decades — she finds sexual pleasure in pain, and the unique services she can provide will be highly valuable to certain unconventional patrons. Anafiel purchases, fosters, and trains Phèdre for his own unknown political machinations and hires Joscelin Verreuil, a warrior vowed to celibacy, to protect her. And so Phèdre serves Naamah and Anafiel by loving as she wilt (and wilting as she loves) and she and Joscelin are soon caught up in dangerous court intrigues.

It sounds kind of sleazy, with all the BDSM and the bastardized version of Christianity, but in Jacqueline Carey's hands it isn't sleazy — it's decadent. Mostly what sets it apart is the writing style which is beautifully lush, and even more gorgeous when read by Anne Flosnik’s rich smooth voice in the audio version:

I was flawed... To be sure, it was my eyes; and not even the pair of them, but merely the one. Such a small thing on which to hang such a fate. Nothing more than a mote, a fleck, a mere speck of color. If it had been any other hue, perhaps, it would have been a different story. My eyes, when they settled, were that color the poets call bistre, a deep and lustrous darkness, like a forest pool under the shade of ancient oaks. Outside Terre d'Ange, perhaps, one might call it brown, but the language spoke outside our nation's bounds is a pitiful thing when it comes to describing beauty. Bistre, then, rich and liquid-dark; save for the left eye, where in the iris that ringed the black pupil, a fleck of color shone... And it shone red, and indeed, red is a poor word for the color it shone. Scarlet, call it, or crimson; redder than a rooster's wattles or the glazed apple in a pig's mouth... Thus did I enter the world, with an ill-luck name and a pinprick of blood emblazoned in my gaze.

I should mention that one issue I had with the audio version is that many of the unfamiliar French-sounding names seemed similar when read aloud and it took me longer to distinguish all the characters than it did when I read them in print. It will help to be able to look at the Dramatis Personae in the front of the book if you listen to the audiobook. There is a map in the book also, but this isn’t necessary since the geography is an alternate Europe.

The plot is complex and the political maneuvering is intriguing, there’s plenty of adventure, and the characters are colorful. But my favorite thing about Kushiel’s Dart is Joscelin. He is one of the best male heroes in fantasy literature. Tall, strong, quiet, serious, courageous, deadly, and passionate, all he has to do is stand there wearing his mail gauntlets and steel vambraces and I’m completely entertained. —Kat Hooper

Kushiel's Chosen

Phèdre and Joscelin, heroes of the realm, are living happily in Montrève until Phèdre receives a package from the traitor Melisande. Obsessed with this clue to Melisande’s whereabouts, and pricked by Kushiel’s Dart, Phèdre decides to return to her role as kinky courtesan and spy. As expected, this decision hurts Joscelin deeply and his reaction — to protect and serve, but to back off emotionally — sets the tone for the rest of the novel.

As Phèdre hunts for Melisande, we get to explore more of Jacqueline Carey’s alternate Europe, including her versions of Venice and Crete. We also spend time aboard a pirate ship and in the pirates’ island hide-out. My favorite geographical feature, though, is the island prison of La Dolorosa, where the most intense and exciting scenes in Kushiel’s Chosen occur.

As for the plot, the political intrigue is pleasantly complex with a couple of unexpected twists, though it’s a stretch for me to believe that Phèdre solves the mysteries so easily, and some of the clues she’s given are just silly (e.g., the clue from Serena Buonard). It’s also hard for me to understand Phèdre’s continuing love for the nasty and traitorous Melisande.

The best part of Kushiel’s Chosen is the developing characterization, especially of Joscelin. His predicament — his love for Phèdre despite his hate for what she does — is compelling. I ached for him and found myself almost hoping he’d accept the redemption he knew he could have if he abandoned her and followed Yeshua (Carey’s version of Jesus Christ). He deserves something better, but this story is Phèdre’s and I knew that if Joscelin left her, he’d be out of the story and, since he’s the reason I read the Kushiel books, that just won’t do. Fortunately, Phèdre realizes that she’s about to lose Joscelin and her horrified realization that his pain gives her pleasure leads to her own maturation as she begins to deal with the sin and guilt caused by the nature she can’t repress. For me, this aspect of the Kushiel series is what makes it a painful, but beautiful, story of love and forgiveness. It reminds me of the allegorical story of Hosea and Gomer in the Old Testament.

If you read audiobooks, I highly recommend Tantor’s version of Kushiel’s Chosen. It’s read by the incomparable Anne Flosnik. She’s amazing. —Kat Hooper

Kushiel’s Chosen

Jacqueline Carey returns to the lush and decadent world of Terre d'Ange in Kushiel's Chosen, sequel to the strange but beautiful Kushiel's Dart, and produces a sequel that unfortunately doesn't quite live up to its predecessor.

Our masochistic heroine, Phèdre, leaves behind her comfortable new life as a country countess when she begins to suspect that all is not well in Terre d'Ange. She believes that Melisande Shahrizai, from her hiding place in La Serenissima (Venice), still plots against Queen Ysandre — with the help of at least one D'Angeline noble. But who is her co-conspirator, and what are they planning? Phèdre returns to the courtesan’s trade in the hopes of finding clues. She doesn't learn much, though, and in the process drives away her bodyguard-lover, Joscelin. Phèdre decides there is only one thing to do: travel to La Serenissima and investigate there. In Italy, Phèdre uncovers the conspiracy, but disaster strikes and she finds herself lost at sea and entangled with pirates. Now, Phèdre's task is to get back to La Serenissima in time to save Ysandre. Along the way, she begins to realize that maybe being marked by the angel of punishment means more than having weird sexual proclivities. She learns that she may have been chosen for a task involving divine justice, a concept expanded upon in the third book, Kushiel’s Avatar.

While Kushiel’s Chosen is a decent book, it didn’t engage me in the way that Dart did. I think my essential problem lies with the middle section of the book — the pirate part. Maybe it's because Phèdre's skills are espionage and seduction, not sailing and fighting. Carey is being true to her character here. It would be jarring and Mary Sue-ish for her to suddenly turn into a pirate queen. It doesn’t give her much to do during this period, though, and this sequence doesn't seem to advance the main plot much.

This isn't a bad book. It's a faster read than Dart, though it rarely attains the heartbreaking power or the sensuality of the previous novel. The exception, and it’s a doozy, is the moment when Phèdre realizes how Joscelin got to La Dolorosa. (Wow.) Kushiel’s Chosen has some middle-book syndrome but is an enjoyable read and sets up a ten-year time jump, a great decision that gives Phèdre greater maturity and a fresh political situation in Kushiel’s Avatar. —Kelly Lasiter

Kushiel's Avatar

Phèdre and Joscelin have had ten years of much needed rest... until the night that Phèdre dreams of her childhood friend Hyacinthe. He is still trapped on the island of the Master of the Straits and Phèdre has been studying ancient Habiru (Hebrew) texts to try to find a way to free him. If she can discover the lost name of God, she thinks she can use it to compel the angel Rahab to let Hyacinthe go.

Meanwhile (there’s always more than one major plot going on in the Kushiel books), Melisande’s son Imriel, third in line to the d’Angeline throne, is missing and Melisande, still in captivity, wants Phèdre to find him. These two quests, finding Imriel and the name of God, keep Phèdre busy during Kushiel’s Avatar. And, as usual, her plans involve travel to exotic places, mooning over Melisande, sadistic sex with tyrants, and a lot of agony for Joscelin... Poor Joscelin. He’s always being asked to bear too much.

Kushiel’s Avatar is an exciting story and a nice ending to the first Kushiel trilogy. Imriel’s character is a welcome addition and it will be interesting to see how the horrible experiences he endured in Kushiel’s Avatar help form his personality in later books (in which he is the main character). This is also a good place to bring Phèdre’s adventures to an end. She’s nearing the point of unbelievability as she saves lives and creates world peace wherever she goes. After her accomplishments in this book, it’s hard to imagine what she can do to top them in the future.

Jacqueline Carey’s writing is lovely, but it’s becoming occasionally repetitive (e.g., “whore’s unwanted get”, “summer blue eyes”, “the compass by which I had fixed my heart”). In Kushiel’s Avatar, her writing is best when Phèdre expresses her awe at the name of God and the connection between that name and God’s character and creation. I thought this was beautifully done. (I didn’t for a minute, though, believe that the Children of Yisra-el would let a d’Angeline whore’s unwanted get look in the Ark of the Covenant...)

Fans of the series will be pleased with Kushiel’s Avatar and, like me, will want to follow Imriel’s journey in the next book, Kushiel’s Scion. I should mention, again, that this series was superb on audio. —Kat Hooper

Kushiel's Scion

Return to Terre d'Ange with Kushiel's Scion, sequel to the Kushiel's Legacy trilogy. This book follows Phèdre's adopted son, Imriel, son of the treacherous Melisande and third in line for the D'Angeline throne. Carey does an excellent job of developing Imriel into a complicated, troubled young man without in any way betraying the character he was in Kushiel's Avatar: haunted but with the proverbial heart of gold.

Imriel is coming of age here, and coming to terms with desires he finds hard to face. Between his molestation at the hands of the Markhagir of Drujan, his anger with Melisande, and the dominant tendencies inherent in his bloodline, Imriel finds sexuality a minefield of issues. He wants more than anything to be a good person, but fears he's fated to be something else.

His quest to find maturity and inner peace will lead him to the Night Court (fans of the Night Court rejoice — we see more of it here than we have since Dart), into court intrigues, and to an Italy still clinging to the ghosts of its glorious past. Imriel finds himself surrounded by schemes, plots, and conflicted desires, and truly comes of age in this hotbed of troubles. I really love what Carey does with his character, and can't wait to see what comes next for him, as it's clear there will be further Imriel books.

The one thing I didn't like at first was that the climactic battle didn't seem to have much to do with Imriel; it was more that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But on further thought, I realized that Phèdre, too, was sucked into things she never meant to be involved with, in Dart and Chosen. I'm just so accustomed to the Phèdre of Avatar, plunging herself headlong into adventure because she knows she has to — but this is a mature, 30ish Phèdre. Like the younger Phèdre, Imriel ends up in situations he never intended to be involved with, but becomes a stronger character through these tribulations. In the end, I think the plot works, and really shows how far Imriel has come since the beginning of the book. —Kelly Lasiter

Kushiel's Justice

Before I begin, I should state that this review will contain a few spoilers. I'm sorry, but I've just got to let it out.

There were some definite improvements over Kushiel's Scion in a lot of ways. Phèdre and Joscelin return for a much larger portion of this book and they are as awesome as ever. They add excitement and helped me through much of the slog that was the first 300-odd pages. Yes, that's right. Though previous Kushiel books have been long and probably could have withstood some cutting easily, I never minded the extra. With both Scion and Justice, that extra could have been done without. Seriously, you could knock off the first 200 pages of Kushiel's Justice and not miss a thing.

Part of the problem is Imriel himself. He has his moments of improvement as well in this book. While he's married to Dorelei he actually grows as a character. I actually don't mind him so much. I even find myself starting to care. His relationship with Dorelei is strong, it develops, unlike his "relationship" with his cousin Sidonie. It becomes more reminiscent of the wonderful relationship growth she portrays between Joscelin and Phèdre and I found myself actually enjoying it.

And then... [Spoiler. Highlight to read] Dorelei dies. DIES! What a cop out! How about having characters that have to live and grow beyond their selfish wants? How about letting Imriel and Dorelei grow together as a couple, overcome all their trials and tribulations together? No, let's just make it easy by killing her off so that Emoriel (as I have come to think of him) can go back to his unbelievable Romeo and Juliet-style relationship with Sidonie! I don't buy that relationship for a second. I don't care about Sidonie, I don't care about Emoriel. [End spoiler] I don't care so much that I put the book down and never picked it back up, even though I intend to. And I got to the part where it should have been exciting. The revenge ought to get the blood going. But I simply. Did. Not. Care.

Among other things, Jacqueline Carey's prose has taken a plummet. The flowery tone is inconsistent and sentences are often choppy and plagued with grammatical mistakes. The plot is far too thin for the length of the book. And the sex! I can't believe I'm saying this, but there was too much sex. And it has nothing to do with quantity (though there definitely was quite a bit of it), but quality. Or really, lack thereof. With the exceptions of the scenes with Dorelei, they're all repetitive and boring. I don't care how hot Emoriel is for Sidonie. I don't want to hear about Sidonie's young, creamy, tight flesh over and over again. And I know Phèdre was an odd creature, but I was never before under the impression that D'Angeline women turned on like faucets if a man just looks at them right. When did that happen?

Okay, well, that wasn't maybe as successful as I would have liked. But I'm annoyed because the first Kushiel trilogy was so fantastic and this was... sad. As sad as poor little Emoriel.
—Beth Johnson

Kushiel's Mercy

I quote Yeats with Melisande Shahrizai firmly in mind. For the last two books I've waited to see the perilous beauty again, knowing she'd have to appear again at some point. Her machinations and her legacy have always been at the heart of the series, even when she was unseen.

At the beginning of Kushiel's Mercy, Melisande's shadow lies heavily over her estranged son, Imriel de la Courcel. Imriel is in love with the Dauphine, Sidonie, but Sidonie's mother the Queen does not fully trust Imriel. And, too, there are many other D'Angelines who are suspicious of Imriel as a result of Melisande's crimes. The Queen forbids Imriel and Sidonie to wed unless Imriel finds his mother and brings her to justice.

Before Imriel can do that, though, a terrible enchantment falls upon the City of Elua, and Imriel is the only one who can save both Sidonie and Terre d'Ange. And the only people he can trust to help him in his quest are two of his greatest enemies.

I highly recommend this novel to anyone who enjoyed the previous five. It has it all: dire magic, forbidden love, transcendent spirituality, devastating war — and yes, sex. There is not as much sex as there is in some of the previous installments, but what's here is beautiful, lit as it is with Imriel and Sidonie's love. If you liked the waterfall scene between Phèdre and Joscelin in Kushiel's Avatar, you will like the love scenes in Kushiel's Mercy.

I can't say much more without ruining the plot, but I will say that when I turned the last page, I cheered Jacqueline Carey for a job well done. —Kelly Lasiter