Customer Reviews

Naamah's Kiss

5 star:		(35)
4 star:		(15)
3 star:		(18)
2 star:		(13)
1 star:		(7)

 

 

It breaks my heart to write this, but this book just isn't very good.

(SPOILERS AHEAD.)

Jacqueline Carey's been my favorite author since I first read Kushiel's Dart in January 2002. That book caught me from the first paragraph, and I read the first chapter right there in the bookstore, before buying it. If you're reading this, you probably know what an experience falling in love with that book--that world--was for me. There were some less-convincing characters, and some less-riveting passages, but for three epic novels, the quality level was kept remarkably high throughout.

The fundamentally wonderful thing about Kushiel's Dart was how dense it was, how much beauty and intrigue and meaning was packed into each page, into each plot development. The last two books of the first series were slightly less dense, but made up for it with rich action.

The Imriel series was more difficult to love. The characters were, for the most part, still 3d and believable, Imri's inner personality was fully realized, and his interactions with those around him followed an emotional logic. But the first two books' plots were pretty thin, and could have been condensed into one. Carey bulked them out with too many placeholder characters, too many pointless dead-end activities (why DID he go to Rome, anyway?), and too many ideas not fully realized (that secret society sure was a dud).

Worst of all, the pivotal plot point--that Imri turns his back on love to pursue duty, with disastrous results--always felt forced, like the author was making a character do something unnatural for the sake of her plot. That's bad enough when it's a brief episode...but it was the bulk of the second novel. As a result of that psychological forcing, the book dragged a lot, as you followed him through what you knew the WHOLE TIME was the wrong decision and its foreshadowed consequences. Only in the third Imriel book do we really get back to the high adventure and clockwork pace that defined the first trilogy from the start.

The Imriel series' quality suffered due to this feeling of filler and incredibly slow pace in the first two novels. But Carey picked it back up in the third, and that series overall left a good taste in my mouth. However, you can sell books by writing decent trilogies, but to be a good author, your novels themselves need reread value. Two of that series three books don't really have it.

Which brings us to Naamah's Kiss. This novel not only doesn't stand on its own (which is STILL the best criteria of a good trilogy-opener), it arguably wouldn't have been published at all, were it a first novel by an unknown author.

Moirin is dull. Her mother is dull. Her first lover is dull, and so is his family. Carey tried to write the story of a naive, uncivilized girl, but missed the mark on actual innocence, substituting vagueness and exploitability. I know, not everybody can be a Delaunay-trained genius, or even a conflicted quasi-Shahrizai. But Moirin took subjectivity, unreliability, and naivete to an almost Faulknerian level. And that's as close as Naamah's Kiss came to literature.

There are a handful of beautiful passages and concepts here--Moirin's initiation, her developing relationship with her father, and the scenes where we begin to understand, and then meet, the dragon. The passages with her father are moving, and I appreciated the theme where she comes to terms with having a D'Angeline heritage and gift, as well as the Alban one she's loyal to. Exploring Moirin's multi-ethnicity, and the interactions of her two gifts through her young adulthood--not to mention the changes in Alba and Terre D'Ange in the new century--these would have been enough for a whole book.

But the author who rote the densely-packed Kushiel's Dart is long gone. Carey takes enough plot points for the first quarter of a Phedre story, and spreads them over the whole novel. Now, I don't want to read another Phedre story. I want to read a densely-packed Moirin story...and Moirin's story is the thinnest Carey's ever put to print.

So much could still have been done with the Alban part of the book, the culture and rites, the tension of the different ethnic groups--that's where Moirin shines, in the beginning. The initiation rite itself was beautiful, pure Carey. But it only serves to highlight the flatness of the rest of the tale. Instead, Carey reaches for what's become a worn-thin plot contrivance: send the character to another country. It's become less a metaphor for her characters' growth, and more of a substitute for it. It feels like Moirin is, as Imri unfortunately sometimes was, less of her own person and more of a tool of the author, setting up plot points for later books at the expense of interest and density in the present one. It felt like the author preparing to stretch a little bit of story a long way.

Second big problem in this book: Terre D'Ange has become an aggravating place. I can't think of one single likeable character in the whole City of Elua. The closest I came to relating to them was a brief twinge of compassion when a couple of them (temporarily) acted stable and humane. The ones that weren't tediously loco were savior-perfect. All those admirable, unique characters populating the first two series? Nothing like that here. All those villains you loved to hate, and the deliciously ambivalent ones? Nowhere to be found. Moirin's friends at the Palace (of course) are abrasive, self-absorbed nuts, and her enemies are simply petty and selfish. In fact, there's a pretty fair overlap of her friends and enemies. This doesn't make for intrigue. It just makes Moirin look unintelligent.

Carey had an amazing opportunity to display a place familiar to her readers--Terre D'Ange and the City of Elua--through fresh eyes, even critical eyes. Instead, she has Moirin get accustomed rather fast, embroiling her in a fairly shrill and petty Palace clique. After a time, the only differentiation Moirin has is her ability to be exploited, and repetitive references to her spiritual practice and healing ability.

Which leads me to one of my biggest problems with the novel: the Asian characters. Frankly, I got tired of the "Me Chinese" way Carey made them talk, as well as the gamut of Asian stereotypes they ran. I mean, seriously? Wise old meditation-teaching herbal scholar, with his mysterious young warrior-acolyte? Just no. I absolutely couldn't believe the love interest was Bao. He's easily the least-desireable character Carey's ever written, and that includes Waldemar Selig.

Bao's a cypher. He's rude. His big draw is that he apparently smells like metal. Another critic was right--he's the poor man's Joscelin. There is no chemistry whatsoever between him and Moirin. Their union was a dismaying surprise--not in the wonderful Phedre-Joscelin way, more an upsetting "Carey doesn't seriously expect me to buy this" sort of way. Bao's all set up to be the big soulmate, Moirin's MacGuffin for the next book...and their relationship is just flat absurd.

Sexuality in Carey's first trilogy was a deeply meaningful, spiritual act--not only did plot points hinge on it, but so did philosophical ideas. I'm sure a lot of us fans fell in love with this story in part because of the boundary-pushing, yet beautiful portrayal of sex and love. In the second series, we are treated to Imriel's growth out of sexual abuse and into the conflict between duty and following his passion. I think that's what makes me feel most burned of all about Moirin's story. The sex here is just this side of meaningless and random. It's like Carey's heart's just not in that aspect of her writing anymore. I agree with another reader that some of the sex here verges on cheesy. Moirin doesn't have any believable chemistry with anyone she sleeps with; the closest she comes to that is early teenage hormones. The "gift of desire" of Naamah, part of Moirin's heritage, goes quickly from an intriguing concept into a belabored plot device, steering Moirin here and there. If it was used to move the plot forward, I could even understand that; but none of Moirin's relationships seem to matter much to the plot at all. In addition, Moirin is abused by two of her lovers, and it is barely acknowledged. How is that reflective of Elua's will? If Carey wanted to portray D'Angeline society as unwell, that should have been a major theme of the book...not something touched-on and excused.

It all just felt like Carey's publishing too often--biting off big undigested chunks of ideas, set up and then quickly abandoned; interspersed with long, drawn-out passages that go nowhere, filled with decisions you want to shake the characters for making. I don't want her to write the same story over again, that's not why I'm sad. I just want her to keep working on a book until it's at the level of quality we all know she can reach.

I know people who love JC will think I'm not a fan, and hate on my review. But honestly, who out there will calim this is as good as Kushiel's Dart, or even Kushiel's Mercy? If those were five-star books, then this can't be.

I hate to criticize my favorite author. I am sure that Carey will get the story told and that it will be worth reading. But after years of excitedly buying her books the day they arrived, I'll be checking the next one out of the library first.

In _Naamah's Kiss_, Jacqueline Carey returns to the world she created in the Kushiel's Legacy series, and introduces a delightful new heroine.

Moirin mac Fainche is a descendant of Alais de la Courcel and a member of the Maghuin Dhonn tribe of Alba. On her father's side, she's D'Angeline, with lines of descent from Naamah and Anael. When a tragedy changes Moirin's young life, and an initiatory rite reveals that she has a destiny beyond the sea, Moirin travels to Terre d'Ange in search of her father. There, she's treated as an exotic novelty.

In no time at all, she's over her head in a web of intrigue, with only her courage, her wits, and her deep-seated beliefs to protect her. The publisher's blurb mentions that she travels to Ch'in, so I won't consider that a spoiler; eventually she does go to Ch'in and becomes involved in a knotty situation there as well. The plot is complex, and while at first there seems to be little connection between Moirin's adventures in Terre d'Ange and her adventures in Ch'in, it turns out that the things she learns and gains in Terre d'Ange are crucial in dealing with what comes later.

As is usual for the first book in a Carey trilogy, the major plotline of _Naamah's Kiss_ is resolved by book's end, and several other plotlines remain open for exploration in the next two installments.

To me, one of the best things about _Naamah's Kiss_ is that Moirin's voice is so clear. Many authors seem to write the same character over and over. Carey doesn't. I never felt like I was reading Phedre's voice, or Imriel's. Moirin doesn't have Phedre's silken manners, or Imriel's Byronic angst, and she's sharp-tongued in a way that the other two are not. Her attitude toward sex is different, too. Phedre's sexual adventures are often a means to an end; Imriel's are often fraught with emotional turmoil. When Moirin goes to bed with someone, it's for the sheer joy of it. (I should mention that there's a lot of sex in _Naamah's Kiss_, but if you're bothered by that, you probably haven't followed the series this far.)

Perhaps most interestingly, Moirin provides a more critical view of D'Angeline society. Phedre had a bone-deep love of it, but Moirin sees the contrast between what Terre d'Ange should be (a kingdom based on love) and what it is: often frivolous, often xenophobic, often over-concerned with wealth and titles. Side note: There's talk of an expedition to "Terra Nova," and I'm interested to see how Carey handles the issue of colonialism. I can see it being similar in some ways to what happened in our world, and different in others.

I highly recommend _Naamah's Kiss_ to anyone who enjoyed the Kushiel books, and to anyone who was tempted to try them but put off by the BDSM (Moirin is sexually active, but her tastes don't run to whips and chains). Carey's prose is as lush and sensual as ever, and Moirin is a wonderful heroine.

This book has its lovely moments, but for the most part, it isn't on the same level as any one of the Kushiel books. The three stars I give it are for a few very beautiful characters and the fascinating cultural depictions of the Maghuin Dohnn and Ch'in. Also, Carey has a gift for using language in a gorgeous, absorbing way, and that is still very evident in this book. But as for the protagonist herself and the general plot, they are both a disappointment to me.

I was ready to embrace Moirin when I began this book, and seeing her grow up in the wilderness in naive solitude with her mother was a great start. But once her world expands to encompass more character interaction, her personality becomes clearer, and I realized she was actually not very appealing. She is sensuous and sharp-tongued, which is fun, but the flip side is that she is also a bit too immature and disrespectful at times, which might be fine (or even interesting) if she had good reason, but she doesn't. She comes off at times as being a bit full of herself, while at the same time being weak and easily used. Not a likeable combination. And little else about her personality stands out enough to make her a strong, intriguing voice.

I can't help but draw glaring comparisons between her and Phedre and Imriel and find Moirin wanting. Phedre and Imriel shone regardless of their Kusheline components. Phedre was mysterious and exceedingly clever in her own right, and Imriel had a boldness and a solemnity beyond his years, and such a heartbreaking history. Moirin just doesn't have such a strong character foundation. So it seems that from the beginning, the emphasis on her magical gifts overshadows her personality, so that I felt like without those gifts, she would not be very special, mysterious or memorable on her own. Rather than making her fascinating, it further diminishes the complexity and depth of her character.

Another problem is that everything seems much too easier for her. Her magic comes so smoothly. She hardly has to work at it, or learn much to master it. And from the moment Moirin arrives in Terre d'Ange, it seems everyone she meets loves her almost immediately, unless they are jealous of her beauty or wary of her magical abilities. She fits right in socially, extremely quickly, even though she has spent her life in isolation. To me, the best kind of character is one with interesting flaws or circumstances that cause inspiring setbacks, who is thus an underdog in some way. That's not Moirin.

And despite all of her blessings, she causes most of her own problems. It was difficult to sympathize with her. It frustrated me in particular when a certain character wanted to exploit her magic and she went along willingly, despite the fact that she knew how dangerous it was - not just to herself - but potentially to others (which is not very believable to me because you would think a girl raised among the wise and wary Maghuin Dhonn would never do this). And then she excuses herself by claiming she was young and vulnerable, which rings hollow. What's worse, everyone seems to forgive her her share in mistakes and lay the blame completely elsewhere.

She does become more admirable and less aggravating when she goes to Ch'in, but I think that's mostly because the focus shifts more toward adventure and helping the princess Snow Tiger and the country, rather than focusing on Moirin herself. I think that's also because the characters in Ch'in are more interesting and well-drawn. Snow Tiger in particular is nicely done, and I actually found myself wishing I could see things from her more complex point of view.

As for the new roster of characters in Terre d'Ange... Many are simply not up to par with what I have come to expect from this world. They are either stereotypes, or else not strong enough to really jump off the page. I will say Queen Jehanne is an amusing exception, and Moirin's father, as well. Raphael de Mereliot is layered enough and stands out to an extent, but he really isn't worth any respect and I think he could have been much more compelling.

Since most of the characters are not that impressive to begin with, it doesn't help matters that their growth is fairly scant. There are a few characters, like Jehanne and Snow Tiger, who do develop beautifully, but they are exceptions. Even Bao, Moirin's supposed love interest, only really develops in that we learn more of his history. As for Moirin herself, it seems like she hardly grows at all from beginning to end. I found this disturbing, given the drastic and inspirational character growth both Phedre and Imriel underwent in Dart and Scion, let alone the series. Phedre transformed from a spirited, defiant, sometimes-insecure girl to a wise, remarkable woman through her experiences; Imriel had his dark past and heritage to contend with, and in the end learned how to carry them with better grace. Both learned from their mistakes and admitted to them, but it doesn't seem like Moirin ever really does.

There is certainly some depth in this book, a common thread about ambition and power and how they corrupt, and an exploration of how desire can be a force of good and healing. Unfortunately, it takes a while (over halfway through the book) for these themes to truly surface. Until then, the story is a bit directionless and seems more like fluff, albeit entertaining fluff. I really wish there had been more depth and continuity shown overall.

So, yes, this book is worth reading, but it is by no means as deep and poignant as the past 6. Jacqueline Carey is a brilliant writer, and it's my opinion that she doesn't let that talent shine as brightly in this particular book. I'm hoping the next two will focus on tying together some more interesting threads and prove more stimulating than this one. And perhaps Moirin will become more enjoyable, as well. Although it was admittedly a disappointment in some ways, this book was good enough to absorb me and ensure that I will read the next one. Sadly, I just won't be obsessing over the release date like I did with its predecessors.

As an avid fan of Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel series, I preordered Namaah's Kiss months ago. And when it arrived in the mail, I joyfully devoured it in record time. As always, Carey's writing is superb, beautiful and lush, heady and intoxicating like rich red wine.

In her previous novels, Carey has lovingly crafted a wondrous and beautiful world, a mythic allegory of our own, both strange but immediately familiar. It was a joy to revisit these now familiar places, Alba and Terre d'Ange (and new places like Ch'in!), but this time through new eyes. As one of the Maghuin Dhonn, Moirin is a child of the woods and wild places, untutored in d'Angeline ways. This lends the book a delightful new perspective as young Moirin learns of her d'Angeline heritage and the gifts of Namaah.

I could not help but feel a little bit sad while reading the book. It takes place several generations after the Kushiel series and like the first reviewer, I missed Phedre and Joscelin, Imriel and Sidonie and all the others. We do get tantalizing morsels, enough to leave me happy knowing our old friends lived well. And I have no doubt, that in the Terre d'Ange that lies beyond, they stand smiling as they watch our new heroine fulfill her destiny.

For those new to Carey, I would suggest starting with the first in the series, Kushiel's Dart. For any longstanding fans, buy this book and curl up with a glass of wine and enjoy. She is not Phedre nor Imri but Moirin mine is a worthy successor and I look forward to following her adventures for years to come.

Big fans of Carey's Kushiel novels should probably stop reading here and just buy the book. While Naamah's Kiss takes place about a hundred years after the Kushiel series, it still has the same grandness of scope, rich storytelling and lush descriptions of the other novels set in this universe.

For those not familar with the series, it's set in an alternative Earth, where a new god "Elua" had been born when the tears of Mary Magdalene mixed with the blood of Yeshua ben Yosef, spilled on the dirt beneath the cross. Elau, whose only command was "Love as thou wilt" was joined by a group of angels (including Naamah) who traveled across the world to settle in what in our world would be France, but in the book is called Terre d'Ange. Before these celetisial being left for another world, they left their mark on the people of Terre d'Ange.

The book focuses on Moirin, who lives on Alba (i.e., Great Britain) and is a member of the secretive bear clan of Maghuin Dhonn, who are descended from the original human inhabitants of the islands. (In this version of Earth, the Romans were driven out of the British isles by the magic of the Maghuin Dhonn). However, Moirin's father was a Naamah priest from Terre d'Ange, and her conception was apparently destined by both the bear goddess and the gods of Terre d'Ange.

Thus the plot of the book is about Moirin trying to reconcile her two heritages and discover her destiny. Readers of the Kushiel books will not be surprised to find that this involves traveling far from home and meeting (and in many cases bedding) a large cast of characters, some who turn out to be good friends, and some not.

While I don't think that this book quite matches the wondrous experience of reading the earlier series, it is still good. I did miss Phedre, and Joscelin, and Imriel, and the other characters from the earlier novels, but they are still there in spirit, and we do learn a little of "what happened next" with them from Moirin's history lessons and story telling.

This book brings us back to the world of Kushiel's Legacy series with all new characters and a world which, sadly, has not changed significantly since we last left Sidonie and Imriel. 100 year have past and little of note has occurred in the world.

The books, when compared to her previous six books, comes off as a major disappointment.

First, you meet the protagonist, Moirin of the Maghuin Dhonn, whose mother is of the Maghuin Dhonn, but whose father is a D'Angeline Priest. Moirin comes off as very like Phedre nu Delauney. She doesn't so much as grow in the book as she suddenly changes. One moment, she's uncomfortable within the Cities of Man, the next she's comfortable inside, by and large, with occasions uncomfortableness. One moment she's completely of the Maghuin Dhonn, and the next she's somehow completely embracing D'Angeline Customs, all of them.

One of the things that made the first Kushiel's Scion Trilogy, by and large, was that the protagonist used sex as a part of the story. Sex was, in fact, an integral part of the plot, as she was a courtesan spy. Not true, with our new protagonist, Moirin. In fact, I find that most of the sex scenes in the book come off as random and don't necessarily help or add to the plot at all. There's definitely a large amount of cheese involved in how she ends up getting into some of the sex scenes she's involved in.

In fact, the plot itself comes off as pretty rickety. One moment she's in Alba, the next in Terra D'Ange and the next in Ch'in. Scenes are set clearly intending to lead you to the obviously coming sequel to this book (In fact, the author tells you a number of times that you haven't seen the LAST of one of the enemies you meet).

Honestly, I felt that that, as well as the constant references to the other two books, hurt the book. Even if we are to buy that little has happened in the 100 years since the last trilogy, are all the stories the protagonist knows ONLY about Phedre and Imriel? Truly?

All in all, I feel that this was a disappointing book and I can only hope that Ms. Carey can do better with the sequel.

It's really too bad. I looked forward to this book, pounced on it, and then it's just.....meh.

I didn't expect the main character to be as beguiling as Phaedra, but this one is outright stupid, careening from one sexual encounter to another and letting herself be used by anyone who wants to use her. The whole first half of the book is just Too Much Information about her gonads. Cringeworthy and crude, it reads like a sex manual and none of the sex advances the plot.

When she gets to Asia, the book brightens up a bit but ultimately disappoints. I fully expected to read one of Carey's interesting takes on an ancient civilization like the skillful renderings she did of Rome, Germany and France but she skips right over the subtleties of Chinese art and history to concentrate on a military battle. She mentions a kimono and the Great Wall, and that's it for thousands of years of eastern culture. Clearly she didn't research this book as thoroughly as she did the first three or she would have found something more interesting to write about than this.

As for her other characters, the elderly wise man who's supposed to be the soul of the book sounds like a fortune cookie-- and what's worse, all her lovers are boring and underwritten. The only character in this book that got and kept my attention for its originality was not a human and I don't suppose he'll make a reappearance anytime soon.

It's really too bad. She had a chance to recreate the whole of a fabulous, glittering society, it's intricate politics, literature and architecture, and she let it slip through her fingers in favor of an earlier publishing date. She's such a good writer than you keep turning pages even when you don't particularly like the tale, but this is a woefully subpar effort for an author so gifted.

Sadly disappointed in this one. I absolutely adored Phedre's trilogy, and Imriel's almost as much. But I felt like the one weakness in both trilogies was the use of magic, and this entire book is more magic-focused than any of the previous six. It's totally random and the lack of a system just makes everyone seem conveniently all-powerful when the plot requires it.

On the other hand, learning more about Alba was interesting, and the clues about what happened to all the old characters were fun as well. I also liked the new protagonist's interpretation of Terre d'Ange [though I hope it doesn't ruin the other books for me when I go back and read them].

One last note: JC's treatment of Daoism and Chinese culture in general is really, really shallow, especially compared to the historical touches in her previous books. My opinion might run this way because I don't know a ton about European history and have had the (mis?)fortune of having taken painfully detailed classes on Daoism, but she really seems to have just picked the kind of token aspects of Chinese culture and religion that you see in American movies or bad translations of the Daodejing from the self-help section. It doesn't come across as disrespectful -- just overambitious and under-researched. But if blatant cultural anachronisms bother you a lot, tread carefully and hope the next book's setting in the New World (maybe?) is more interesting.

What I think is interesting is that none of the prior reviews here (that I could see) addressed what annoyed me the most about this latest book, which was her writing style itself. I liked the plot and the characters, and admire Carey for not reusing the same setting and protagonists endlessly (like Terry Goodkind does, for example). But it was the writing itself that got to me. I found her inclusion of the occasional short one sentence paragraph a great writing "trick" in the Kushiel's series. Now Carey has become a caricature of her original writing style. Every other paragraph is a one liner like "We flew." It comes across gimmicky and overly simplistic and just plain annoying. She just doesnt seem nearly as elegant of a writer in this one.

I was so excited to see another book by Jacqueline Carey. But, I also wondered how she could churn out another one so quickly. Now I know. By sacrificing the story. I fell in love with Kushiel's Dart and have devoured each of the books in the series. But the depth of character and the careful plot development just aren't there this time around. Moirin is a little annoying. Things come to her so easily and she doesn't seem to work very hard at her gifts or grow very much from her experiences. An entire book could have been dedicated toher entrance into D'Angeline society and the pitfalls she encountered in the City of Elua. Raphael's story and their intimate connection could definitely have explored further. It seems that a few dinners at a manor house in Alba somehow prepared Moirin for the intrigues and intricacies of court life in Terre D'Ange. I can't imagine any other young girl overcoming an upbringing in the woods and fitting into royal society so quickly. And I won't even begin to address the relationship with Bao. The plot in this book was all over the place and by the end I couldn't imagine what more there could be to say about Moirin.

Jacqueline, please . . . Take your time with the next one. We can wait.