Moirin is a daughter of the Maghuin Dhonn (the bear magicians from the Imriel books), literally raised in a cave. But she's not fully Maghuin Dhonn either, for her father was D'Angelline, and a priest of Naamah to boot.
Like Carey's Kushiel books, this is a meaty start to what promises to be a meaty trilogy. I suspect you will already know if you will like this or not, given its similarities to Carey's other books. It begins with Moirin's childhood and gradually moves to her introduction to society in Terre d'Ange and then to "foreign" adventures elsewhere, contains the discovery of her true love, lots of sex, and the invocation of the heroes of the Kushiel books.
The main difference is that this takes place six generations after the Imriel books, which I actually found refreshing. (That, and no S&M, which I am a bit sad about.) There's still a little too much referencing of Imriel and Phedre—I would have liked their stories interspersed with other tales, so as to establish that yes, they are heroes and legends, but that they are only a handful of legends among many. Still, there was actually not as much as I had anticipated, given how much page-time Phedre gets in the Imriel books, and that was a pleasant surprise.
The other odd bit for me was the beginning, which is set in Alba. I kept thinking I was reading Juliet Marillier, given the focus on Moirin's possible witch-hood, the talk of the old ways passing, and the general setting. And then Moirin started to have sex, and I was like, "Oh yes! This is indeed Jacqueline Carey!" The strengths in the book are the same as in the Kushiel series, particularly Carey's attitude toward sex, the magical reproductive freedom granted to women in Terre d'Ange, and the way she treats romantic polygons in a way that miraculously does not make me want to throw things. Unlike the Imriel series, this is much less boring, thanks to Moirin not being overshadowed by former protagonists. Also, having Moirin as a newbie to the Terre d'Ange court scene makes things much, much more interesting.
The weaknesses are also the same as the previous Kushiel books, from the way Carey reimagines France but fails to do so for other countries (couldn't you have made Ch'in/China more female-centric instead of having that be the exception and falling into the whole "Asian cultures, they are misogynistic!" thing?). There is a huge emphasis on looks and gorgeously colored eyes and pale skin. And there's the whole "what these people need is a honkey," although it actually bothered me less than other versions of it in previous books. This was particularly surprising to me, given that the "foreign" country in question is Ch'in/China.
The other strange thing is the treatment of time periods. People have just discovered "Terra Nova" (and I dearly hope the next books are not about rescuing Indians or ignoring Indian genocide plsthxbai), so I assume the Europe-equivalent is around the 1400s. However, Ch'in is clearly modeled on Qing Dynasty China (1644-1911), and Alba seems firmly stuck in the medieval ages, if not earlier. I, however, am more irritated about the Ch'in thing, as every single person in the world seems to think that queues = China and I would like to note it is a VERY SPECIFIC DYNASTY! And that it is a Manchu thing!
But. I keep reading Carey—you can see how devoted I am because I even made it through the trilogy in which Imriel is emo—because she does some things very well.
( Minor spoilers (does not spoil ending) )In conclusion: fairly standard Carey, I liked it better than the start of the Imriel trilogy, and I am still rather amazed I wasn't massively offended by her version of China.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}