Book Review: Katherine Kurtz' Deryni series
After I finished reading The Lord of the Rings, I went in search of another fantasy series. Frank Herbert’s Dune was popular, but I couldn’t get into it. Likewise with Anne McCaffrey’s Pern series. Even stand-alone books such as Watership Downcouldn’t quite grab me, though I did enjoy Ursula LeGuin’s Earthsea trilogy.
Then a friend recommended Katherine Kurtz’ Deryni series. This became my new Tolkien. All through high school, I read about King Kelson and Camber of Culdi, always eager for the next book.
After many, many years, I am now revisiting Kurtz’ pantheon of novels – currently 18 in all, comprised of five trilogies, one stand-alone novel, and two short story collections. I’ve completed the first two trilogies in chronological order: The Legends of Camber of Culdi, and the Heirs of Saint Camber.
The kingdom of Gwynedd is a recognizably Anglo-Christian-style monarchy, though it has nothing to do with actual British history. The difference in Kurtz’ world is that humans are divided into magic (Deryni) and non-magic. The magic that the Deryni possess leans toward extrasensory perception, the ability to share thoughts and memories, and in some cases physical healing. They can Truth-Read to determine if a person is lying, and they can conjure hand-fire and defend themselves with blasts of power. More questionable, though, is their ability to manipulate other people’s memories or even coerce them into certain actions.

I can’t emphasize enough how important this series was to me as a teenager. I was just starting to write stories of my own, Tolkien-esque there-and-back-again stories, but I was certainly influenced by Kurtz’ careful detail of medieval culture, with its emphasis on political maneuverings. Also, the way she employed magic in her novels had to do with innate ability. There were limitations, but one could certainly develop their skills.
Reading the novels this time around, I’m having a rather different reaction to the series. I’m paying more attention to the racist culture that is portrayed. Venomously anti-Deryni factions treat the Deryni as heretics and label them as less than human. When a band of non-magic regents usurp the power of the throne, they ignite a kingdom-wide racial cleansing. What makes it even worse is that the Church endorses these actions.
Kurtz could have kept the plots as simple Good vs Bad, but she is much more curious about the gray areas of morality. Certainly, the regents are a reprehensible lot, but the Deryni sometimes manipulate people against their will, ostensibly for the preservation of their race. Camber and his son, Joram, often debate the use of magic and whether the ends justify the means. The readers’ sympathies always lay with the Deryni, but I think Kurtz is more nuanced here.

To be honest, I’m surprised that my thirteen-year-old self could handle Kurtz’ extensive descriptions. The author, who has a background in medieval history, fills page after page with the pageantry of the court. What the characters wear – from the linen tunic to the gold thread on the cuffs, from the episcopal robes of a prelate to the single ruby in an earring – is given in minute detail. For each court function, there are paragraphs on the order of the procession (who stands where, who follows whom). For High Church functions, Kurtz describes the celebration of the mass.
These scenes, individually, are beautifully crafted. However, after a while, they get a bit tedious. I’m not sure how it enhances the story to know every last article of clothing that Javan wore at his coronation:
“Over the priestly robe of white linen went a new tunic of cloth of gold, stiff with bullion and laidwork and scarlet-winking jewels, ablaze in the summer sun that beat mercilessly through the stained glass windows. Around the king’s narrow waist the archbishop fastened the white girdle of chivalry studded with jewels, while two of his knights fasten the golden spurs upon his heels…. And over all, the great crimson mantle of earthly majesty – damask silk reembroidered with the Haldane lions in a darker shade of crimson and set with gems for eyes, lined with cloth of gold rather than fur for this summer rite, but no less rich, with a wide band worked round the hem in stiff bullion and gems, as wide as a man’s two hands.”
The other hitch in Kurtz’ style is her need to inform the reader of the position of each character in a room. This is not reserved for the primary characters, but rather for all the minor characters – personal aides, priests, knights – who might be in attendance. Again, I am not sure how it moves the scene forward. Instead, I feel like I must wait until each individual gets settled into his or her seat before the story’s action can resume. As a result, I find myself skimming pages.

I’m not sure if Kurtz’ focus on male characters is meant to be an accurate representation of medieval political structure. It seems that women don’t play any significant part in the plots. In The Legends of Camber of Culdi series, Camber’s daughter, Evaine, acts as a sort of research assistant for her father, who studies of Deryni lore. She only comes onstage when it is necessary to relate some arcane piece of knowledge. Her secondary role is the wife of healer, Rhys Thuryn. In The Harrowing of Gwynedd, she plays a somewhat more prominent role, but again she is frequently pushed to the margins.
The curious thing is that Evaine and Rhys are pretty much the sole representatives of male-female relationships, in particular marriage. They are cutely flirtatious, but you don’t get much of a sense of depth in their relationship. They love each other, as we are told repeatedly, but rarely do we see them interact in any manner, other than as affectionate.
Which brings up the issue of personal relationships in general. Kurtz rarely touches on male-female relationships at all, so any sort of emotional connection is reserved for male-male friendships. Given how the Deryni can share thoughts and memories, there is a degree of intimacy that borders on homoerotic. I doubt that Kurtz is suggesting there is any gay subtext, but it is curious to me that males can share connection with one another, but rarely with any female. This may be due to the number of characters who are celibate clergy, so they are males who are in close proximity to each other on a daily basis.
I do plan to finish reading the rest of the series, so I may have more thoughts on Deryni in later posts.