Source of book: KU
Relevant disclaimers: None
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Content guidance for discussion of abuse, child abuse, and sexual assault.
I am honestly not sure what to think about this book. I mean, first off, it’s a self-published debut (and gay AF) so all the props for that. And I hope my interest in the book, and my comments here, can be assumed to be good faith, rather than punching down – although, of course, if it comes across as the latter that’s on me.
Basically, I think there’s a whole lot of potential here that, for me, didn’t quite come together, mostly—as far as I can tell—for reasons of ambition outstripping experience (and possibly editing). The setup here is that we’re, like, way, way in the future at the heart of a galaxy-spanning empire known only as the Kingdom. The protagonist, Cie, “works” for the crown i.e. is a slave a crown, as a sort of assassin/fixer/protector of the prince. In the course of her murdering duties, she runs into Jeema, an “ordinary” citizen. It’s technically her responsibility to take Jemma out for witnessing murder stuff, but she ends up banging her instead. This, in turn, leads to a relationship of sorts. Meanwhile, there’s political shenanigans going on with a planet resisting Kingdom rule, a traitor in the prince’s personal guard and the king having basically lost his mind. If this sound rather vague for a plot summary that’s because well … the plot kind of is? It manages to be both a lot and somewhat thin at the same time, which is bewildering, especially because the book is about six hundred pages long.
I was not expecting this book to be about six hundred pages long. And, honestly, I don’t think it needed to be six hundred pages long. While there are some really impressively tense set pieces here—and I abstractly appreciated how willing the author was to just let us spend time with her characters—I personally felt there was a lack of narrative urgency. Partly, I think, this was connected to the disempowerment of the various characters (Cie is a slave, she does what she’s told, the prince obeys the king, even though the king is bananas, and Jeema is just a rando) but it often ends up feeling like less like a deliberate statement on their helplessness and more that the threat to the kingdom goes away conveniently every time there’s kissing to be done or a fancy event to attend. By the time everyone is actually taking action to, you know, deal with what has happening it feels less like the culmination of what has gone before than an arbitrary decision to bring about something they could have brought about at any time if they’d stopped partying for five seconds.
I also recognise that there were emotional dynamics underlying some the actions or non-actions involved the plot. Saying the king is doolally is treasonous and treason is punishable by death (but equally everyone hates the king and the prince has six extremely armed bastards on his side, the king have killed most of his own extremely armed bastards). Nobody believes that the traitorous person is traitorous because there’s underlying beef between them and Cie, but then once Cie actually bothers she’s able to acquire visual evidence of their wrongdoing immediately. Meanwhile the prince is supposed to be reluctant to take action against The One Who Is Blatantly Traitor (to the extent that he’s unable to fight said traitor at the end) because he cares for them so deeply … except we never see that on page? We never see The One Who Is Blatantly Traitor being anything utter than an utter prickweed. I mean, I’m not an expert but if I was playing to betray all my friends, and the man who loved me, I’d be super nice to them all first? That one has been nailed since Judas.
Basically, there’s probably quite sophisticated tale of intrigue and interpersonal dynamics at the heart of this story but unfortunately—for me—it just got lost. I often felt that some things were over-focused on, and others were not: for example, as I noted above, we don’t see the fight between the prince and his lover when it feels like a really emotionally significant moment, and there’s even a sequence where Jeema gets kidnapped where she just wakes up in a weird room with no context, and by contrast we spend multiple thousands of words at slightly repetitive social gatherings and don’t even get me started on the fair. Don’t get me wrong, it was a lovely scene, and that showcased some excellent character development for Cie, but I’ve been to actual fairs in real life that have taken me less time to get through than the one in this book.
What it comes down, is that the first 60% of the story is mostly just Cie and Jeema living the high life and bonking which, to be fair, I was here for but it made the whole threat-to-the-kingdom/there-is-a-traitor-amongst-us/the-king-is-a-monster stuff lose its edge: not because it wasn’t happening (the king has abused Cie all her life and continues to do so) but because everyone was so blasé about it? To some degree, this worked from a character perspective: Cie is conditioned to accept abuse, even from her loved ones as we come to see, and having her be so matter-of-fact about it kind of increases the horror of it without the need for anything too graphically on-page (which I was grateful for). Unfortunately, though, the fact everyone else is mostly okay with this, or blankly accepting, just made me really … upset? Like I don’t know how to deal with an entire group of characters I think I’m supposed to care about being so fucking chill.
Which, I guess, leads me onto my broader issue with the book as a whole. I think I was perhaps ideologically if not … directly in conflict with it, then not on the same page, and not sure how to get on the same page. Most charitably I think the Kingdom is supposed to be analogous to ancient Rome: they have legit Fights for public entertainment, the prince’s personal guards are called the Praetoria, and the Kingdom’s goals are ultimately cultural assimilation. Not always consensual cultural assimilation. And, I mean, this is out of my lane but I don’t know at what point a far-future, part-sci, part fantasy flavoured reinterpretation of ancient Rome, which is presented broadly as positive by the text and which emphasises the happiness of its citizens, goes from just historically-inspired fictional setting to … um. A pro-colonialism manifesto? Because the bad guys in this book are people who do not want to join the Kingdom. And we’re told that, actually, most people *do* want to join the kingdom, because healthcare, education etc., and that the people fighting back are actually funded by self-serving billionaires. But still? I’m uncomfortable? Maybe wrongly. I don’t know. Also I’m a big fan of education, but education isn’t a single unified thing. One group of people bringing their concept of education to another group of people isn’t universal education: it’s forcing your values and worldview on someone else, usually to profoundly harmful effect.
On top of this, there’s slavery in this world. And the book doesn’t seem to have a consistent point of view about whether that’s, um, bad or not? Clearly slavery has permitted untold abuses to be enacted on Cie, so that’s not good. On the other hand, Jeema’s best friend, Fixee, was raised in indentured servitude and it’s cool? It’s not cool. It is the opposite of cool. At one point a character remarks cheerfully (of the world that is resisting Kingdom rule): “How much longer until we just annex them? Seven billion new slaves wouldn’t exactly hurt the system.” And I think I would be okay if were inhabiting a world that was explicitly a dystopia but I never got the feeling we were. The Kingdom’s problems, such as we are given to understand them, stem from the king being a paedophilic sadist who has lost his mind and are broadly fixed when the prince (supposedly a good person?) takes over. The ending we get—which I genuinely think is meant to be non-controversially happy—does not remotely address the fact the people we’ve been asked to root for and care about, and are now enjoying a picnic together, are responsible for the propagation of an aggressively colonialist, pro-slavery, anti-free speech, intergalactic empire.
I do not know how to feel about that. And I honestly don’t know how to feel about the prince either. He’s supposed to be worth Cie’s loyalty (even disregarding the fact she’s been trained and programmed and conditioned to be loyal to him) to the extent that she throws an entire future of freedom with Jeema to stay with him. But he inflicts physical violence on her, and they’ve had a sexual relationship in the past and, I mean, I’m sorry but you can’t have consensual sex with someone you literally own. So we get these scenes where Cie’s, you know, Cie’s rapist is telling Jeema that he’ll hold her responsible if she ever hurts Cie and I think we’re meant to take them at face value?
And obviously you can interpret this as a dark romance in a complex setting that asks you difficult questions. But it honestly just felt incoherent to me. The villain of the piece (not counting the cartoonishly evil king) is basically just the one character who doesn’t want to be a slave: that seems wholly legitimate behaviour to me?
All of which said, while I could not come to a sensible conclusion for myself about the book was trying to achieve with its world-building or what it was trying to say with its themes, I still kinda loved Cie? She was a complicated, contradictory, highly damaged person who was given endless scope to be glamorous, to be vulnerable, to be hopeful, to be messy. I mean her inept attempts to woo Jeema are kind of touching, confusing, and utterly hinged in this way I felt I should have been less okay with than I was? But you’d have to be stronger person than me not to be on board for the ol’ “secretly love starved mass murderer falls for the sweetness of girl-next-door” dynamic. Honestly, despite complaining about the six hundred pages of this book, I could probably have taken six hundred pages of that.
tl;dr loved the sapphism. Struggled with the slavery.