I am a woman of eclectic genre reading habits, and wander far afield in the fertile lands of literary licentiousness. I am especially a fantasy and sci/fi junkie. However, I love it with all my heart when the sci/fi or fantasy novel I am reading adds at least a dollop of romance in its pages. Not some two-dimensional rumpy-pumpy between a fuck puppet and the hero or some bullshit like that, either. Make it good romance or go home.

I have recently read an epic (in every sense of the word) fantasy that does NOT have to go home, and Imma review it to bits. The book, Kushiel’s Dart by Jacqueline Carey, gave me a fantasy, romance, mystery, and thriller all rolled into one and the only reason I am giving it an A is that I cannot give it an Outstanding on its OWLS.

I was first alerted to this book on i09, when its heroine was accounted the greatest courtesan-spy in fantasy or sci-fi. That intrigued me. I have a soft spot for courtesan spies. Ergo, I checked the book’s blurb to see if I might like it:

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.

Phèdre nó 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.

Phèdre 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, Phèdre 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 Phèdre 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. Not since Dune has there been an epic on the scale of Kushiel’s Dart-a massive tale about the violent death of an old age, and the birth of a new.

Well, with a blurb like that, how could I not give the book a try? Boy, howdy, am I glad I did.

At first I was unsure, since the book was first person in that flowery language of pseudo-Tolkien, and I almost always hate that crap. Nonetheless, Carey’s writing was so good that it pulled me into the flowers and — like Dorothy among the poppies in OZ –and I had to stay and dream among them. Even her expositions, which could easily be info dump in lesser hands, were lush and delightful.

For example, when she is describing her alter-Earth’s religion:

He came every week, Brother Louvel, to sit cross-legged among us in the nursery and share with use the teachings of Elua … how Blessed Elua came to be; how when Yeshua ben Yosef hung dying upon the cross, a soldier of Tiberium pierced his side with the cruel steel of a spearhead. How when Yeshua was lowered, the women grieved, and the Magdalene most of all, letting down the ruddy gold torrent of her hair to clothe his still, naked figure. How the bitter salt tears of the Magdalene fell upon soil ensanguined and moist with the the blood of the Messiah. And from this upon the grieving Earth engendered her most precious son; Blessed Elua, the most cherished of angels. I listed with a child’s rapt fascination as Brother Louvel told us of the wandering of Elua. Abhorred by the Yeshuites as an abomination, reviled by the empire of Tiberium as the scion of its enemy, Elua wandered the earth, across vast deserts and wastelands. Scorned by the One God of whose soe he was begotten, Elua trod with bare feet on the bosom of his mother Earth and wandered singing, and where he went, flowers bloomed in his footprints. He was captured in Persis, and shook his head smiling when the King put him in chains, and vines grew to wreath his cell. The tale of his wandering had come to reach the ear of Heaven, and when he was imprisoned, there were those among the angelic hierarchy who answered. Choosing to flout the will of the One God, they came to earth in ancient Persis.

Of these it was Naamah, eldest sister, who went smiling to the King and offered herself with lowered eyelids, in exchange for the freedom of Elua. Besotted, the King of Persis accepted, and there is a story still told of the King’s Night of Pleasure. When the door to Elua’s cell was opened, a great fragrance of flowers poured forth, and Elua emerged singing, crowned with vines. That is why, Brother Louvel explained, we revere Naamah and enter her service as a sacred trust … At last [Elua] came to Terre d’Ange, land of my birth and my soul. For three-score years, Blessed Elua and those who followed him — Naamah, Anael, Azza, Shemhazai, Camael, Cassie, Eisheth and Kushiel — made to dwell here … So did Terre d’Ange come to be what it is, and the world to know of D’Angeline beauty, born in the bloodlines form the seed of Blessed Elua and those who followed him.

The heroine, Phedre, is an anguissette and experiences pain as pleasure. This is a gift from Kushiel, Elua’s angelic companions who now function as demigods, and it is rare. As a sex worker, Phedre is a devotee of the angel/demigod Naamah, and the men and women who “serve as Naamah” are afforded the same rights and respect as any other guild in Terre d’Ange (which is analogous to France). Phedre, however, is no mere courtesan. Nope. She uses her unique connection with her clients to gather intel for the good guys and protect her queen and country like a boss.

Kushiel’s Dart is some of the best world-building I have read in years. Not only that, it has both erotism and romance woven into storyline in such a way that without them the plot cannot move yet avoids being all-about-teh-sex. While the sex is very important to the plot, but it is never gratuitous or tawdry for the sake of cheap thrills. Phedre is never reduced to being JUST a very skilled specialist courtesan.

Moreover, it relies on euphemisms and implications in ways that make it somehow hotter than if the author had used the more explicit terms common in erotica. More to the imagination, maybe?

As for the plot — WOW! It was intricate without being convoluted and alternated in pace without floundering or becoming hectic. I would be convinced that Phedre was in such peril that her escape could only herald the end of the novel, but look down to discover I was 18% of the way through the e-book. I caught myself, twice, actually holding my breath while reading lest Phedre get caught.

What? Was my breathing going to alert the guards? That is a serious breakdown of the fourth wall, there.

Additionally, there IS a strong (albeit non-conventional) romance and its interactions and developments are as complex as the rest of the storyline.

Furthermore, in spite of the very alternate alter-Earth setting, Carey did some serious research in this one. The analogous Venice is called La Serenissima, which was the actual name of Venice in the Middle Ages.

All of her myths, mythos, and mysteries were similarly built on a bedrock of fact. For example, the Yeshuites — a minority group which faced persecution and scorn yet who were also famed for their scholars and physicians — were clearly analogues of Jewish communities in historic Europe. Like actual Judaic practice in our world, Carey’s Yeshuites did not call the One God by name; they called him Adonai (the Lord). Likewise, her other analogues had a firm basis in the reality of our world. Her tribes of the Skaldi were essentially the same Germanic peoples the Romans faced, with the correct underpinning of real history. The people of Alba and Erie were based on facts about the Picts and the Celts, and then fantasy was spread on top like icing. It was incredibly appealing to me as both a scholar and a lover of epic world building.

This book was the first of a trilogy and there is a damn good reason the series is listed among the best of its genre. It is like Lord of the Rings with anal sex. It is like The Wheel of Time with BDSM. It is like The Wizard of Earthsea with un-emphasized and natural bisexuality. It was Game of Thrones with less incest and more consensual sex.

Seriously, I loved Kushiel’s Dart.