The Daevabad Trilogy Review Part Three: The Empire of Gold and The River of Silver
The Daevabad Trilogy Books 3 and 4: The Empire of Gold and The River of Silver (by S.A. Chakraborty)
*Warning: This review contains spoilers*
The Empire of Gold
Wow. Simply that much must be said. Because this series absolutely blew me away.
A large portion of my feelings about the final book in the Daevabad Trilogy, The Empire of Gold, are similar to my feelings about the second book. It captivated me from start to finish, and I plowed through it. I loved the lore, the politics, I loved the characters and their arcs.
Actually, the character arcs for all three of our protagonists were definitely the highlight of this entire novel.
First, starting with Alizayd. I greatly enjoyed the exploration with the other half of his heritage and Marid roots, which allows him water-based powers rather than fire-based powers, which are the custom of Daevabad. It tied perfectly into his miraculous survival of going into the lake earlier in the series. While it was difficult to accept that his Djinn magic would never return, and I grieved the loss of his fire magic alongside him, watching him learn to embrace his newfound water powers was a great character arc. I think it represents a lot of what Ali’s character represents as a whole, which is his adaptability and the way he embraces his circumstances to be beneficial in some way. And his willingness to sacrifice himself to the Marid if that’s what it took to save Ta Ntry, and all his friends and family was beautiful and completely in line with his character.
Watching Ali grieve the supposed death of his brother Muntadhir is done quite well. It would have been easy for this to feel disingenuous given that the reader already knows that Muntadhir actually survived. However, Chakraborty handles this irony with finesse, and watching Ali’s mourning only becomes more painful as it goes on because the reader finds themselves just wanting to scream at him “HE’S ALIVE!” I think part of this is Ali’s internal repetition of Muntadhir’s (supposed) last words to him, “we’re okay, Zaydi,” as his supposed death occurred before the two brothers could reconcile their feud. Ali has to keep repeating this, not just because he is mourning his brother, but he has to go on believing that his brother didn’t die hating him, that he didn’t lose the opportunity to repair their relationship. It all really tugs on the heart strings.
I also loved Nahri’s arc—which I have done nothing but gush about since book one. One of my favorite things about her arc in reclaiming her family’s heritage, as a Nahid, is that she never stoops to being a brutal as those who stole it in the first place. I feel like in a lot of fantasy stories, whenever a storyline involves a character coming back to take their family’s throne or something, that character usually ends up committing atrocities just as terrible as their enemies, and by the end, that character doesn’t even really deserve it anymore because of their actions, and in some cases, war crimes (*cough* Daenerys Targaryen *cough*). It ruins the arc because you want to be able to root for the protagonist reclaiming their legacy, but if the author isn’t careful in crafting the arc, the protagonist just becomes too unlikeable. Chakraborty steers very clear of making this mistake with Nahri, however. While Nahri isn’t afraid to fight back when it comes to taking down Manizheh in this book, she isn’t vicious, brutal, violent, or cruel. Nahri would never put innocents in harm’s way. She would never sacrifice civilians to get power for herself. She’s caring for all the citizens of Daevabad. And, the best part of her arc, is that she actually has a political mind. One of the worst things (in my humble opinion) in fantasy is when an author has a character who is great at fighting battles to gain control over an enemy, but then once they have control of the city or kingdom, they have absolutely no idea how to run it from day-to-day. (Or worse, they’re a Gary Stu/Mary Sue, and they know how to run it without having any practice or background of politicking thus far). But again, Ckahraborty avoids this cleverly. We watch Nahri learn the ins and outs of Daevabad politics in the previous installment, and by this book’s conclusion, we see the way that she Ali are working together to rebuild Daevabad’s government in a way that’s fair for everyone—Daeva, Djinn, Ayaanle, and Shafit alike. Which shows not only that Nahri is actually a skilled leader, but also that Sue isn’t power hungry. She doesn’t want to just rule over everything herself and take all the power. She wants to restructure and balance the power for everyone’s mutual benefit. That’s a REAL leader.
I also love the development of Nahri and Ali’s relationship. Many won’t love them together—whether it’s because their relationship is more soft and secure than passionate, or they prefer Nahri with Dara, or they aren’t a fan of friends to lovers. But, personally, I like it. I think Chakraborty handled the transition of their relationship well. The softness and security are something both of them needed after all they had been through, and by the end of the novel, it doesn’t end with big passionate love confessions. It ends with a subtle acknowledgment of the feelings that exist between the two, but also the understanding that they both need some time to recover from everything that’s happened and heal before they can explore that side of their relationship. Again, it won’t necessarily please people who want the story’s romance aspects to be heavier, but it is more realistic and helps show the stability of Nahri and Ali’s relationship. For them, it doesn’t have to happen immediately for them to know that it will happen. They’re taking their time, letting each other heal. It’s actually quite beautiful.
Chakraborty does add levels of tension to Nahri and Ali’s romantic relationship though. Specifically, I’m thinking of the chapter where they finally kiss, but Ali has to stop it before it goes further because he knows that if he needs Nahri to cut the ring out of his heart—which could potentially kill him. It’s heart wrenching because it has to happen; they absolutely need to remove the ring from Ali’s heart and Nahri is the one to do it, but it will emotionally devastate her to have to cut into him, especially if it ends up killing him. Now this is the kind of tension I want in romance ships. I don’t want any more miscommunication trope, cheating trope, love triangles, or toxic relationships. Give the couple tension that tests their relationship without it having to rely on one or both or them treating the other poorly.
A special shoutout to the chapters that show Nahri and Ali discussing and finding understanding of their own differing religious beliefs. I love it because there’s no judgment or arguing over who’s right. Not only does it reinforce that the two of them can be friends or even lovers whilst still both maintaining the individual beliefs of their own religions. It’s growth on Ali’s part because he’s no longer clinging to the idea that his beliefs are correct (we also see this growth reflected in his treatment of Jamshid in Ta Ntry as well), it’s growth on Nahri’s part because she’s really embracing her Daeva heritage, and together it gives hope that there can be a Daevabad where all the differing cultures can coexist together in peace. I love the scene specifically when they are saying goodbye because Ali is planning to sacrifice himself to the Marid, and they use the traditional formalities of each other’s religions to say goodbye, with Ali telling Nahri “may the fires burn brightly for you,” and Nahri telling him “peace be upon you.”
It’s also clever writing on Chakraborty’s part because she somewhat sidesteps a pitfall when including love triangles in your story, which is that, if it’s a well done love triangle, you will automatically disappoint half your fanbase with your chosen ending. Half the fanbase will always want the protagonist to end up with the other love interest, no matter how well written your ending is. The Daevabad fandom is no exception, and many still wanted Nahri to end up with Dara. By not explicitly putting Nahri and Ali firmly together at the end, Chakraborty is leaving it open enough to satisfy those who were rooting for Nahri and Ali, but also to give some open-endedness to those who were rooting for Nahri and Dara instead. It could also work sufficiently for readers who perhaps didn’t want Nahri to end up with either of them,
And the novel’s conclusion still acknowledged the meaningfulness of Nahri and Dara’s relationship during their final goodbye. They didn’t have to end up together for the relationship to mean something deep to both of them, and Chakraborty handles that well. I’ve expressed my opinion that I don’t think it could be healthy for Nahri and Dara to ultimately be together, no matter how much Dara changes or evolves or even redeems himself. He slaughtered an entire civilization of Shafit, and Nahri is part Shafit. No matter how deeply the two may care about each other or the bond they’ve formed, there’s no way to make that healthy.
I wish Dara had gotten a bit more character development in this book. I think a big part of the weakness of his character for me is that his development feels stalled. I like where he ends up, ultimately, but I just think it takes way too long for him to get there. His blind loyalty to Manizheh in this book went on far too long and could have been paced much better to make his ultimate turn against her feel more earned.
Dara’s characterization, though, is only a minor critique for me, however. The biggest flaw with this novel, I think, is Manizheh. Obviously based on the way the previous installment ended, she was going to be the villain for this book. But I think Chakraborty could have made her a more nuanced villain. Instead she kind of feels like a generic, evil-for-evil’s-sake, Disney villain. It wasn’t a genuine exploration of the very realistic trauma Manizheh endured to bring her to that point. The reveal that Nahri wasn’t her daughter too also fell flat. Of course, it makes sense that Manizheh never would have mothered a Shafit, but it does leave the reader begging the question of why everyone just assumed Manizheh was her mother and never considered the equal possibility that Nahri was Rustam’s daughter.
Ultimately, I do really love the end of the story and where all the characters end up. I loved the bittersweet reunion of Ali, Muntadhir, and Zaynab, I especially loved the callback to the first book, with the last line being “Nahri always smiled at her marks,” and most surprisingly, my favorite character’s ending ended up being Dara. Even though Dara was the protagonist of the three who I was least invested in, he had the most emotionally resonant ending (in my opinion at least).
Part of it was the way that Chakraborty managed to subvert my expectations for how his story would end (I can usually predict endings fairly accurately). In the previous novel, we saw scenes of Dara in some sort of afterlife with his deceased sister before he was brought back. So, the whole time, in this book, I kept waiting for Dara to die—sacrifice himself to save Nahri specifically—and end up reunited with his sister. While I wouldn’t have hated this ending, it is pretty cliche, and killing off a redeemed character is always tricky because you risk actually cutting the redemption arc short or insinuating that death is enough in it of itself to redeem someone, which isn’t always true. So, I’m actually glad that Chakraborty managed to pleasantly surprised me! Having Dara leave to hunt the Ifrit and free other enslaved Daevas like himself is much more emotionally satisfying to his arc, and it allows Dara the real growth and redemption of admitting that he hasn’t earned his peace yet and needs to do some good. Plus, his final scene with Nahri was very touching and leaves it open-ended enough for Nahri/Dara holdout shippers to hope.
The Empire of Gold did leave a few loose ends left to tie up at the end, which did leave me feeling like there needed to be a few more chapters tacked onto the end. But with a 700+ page book, I can see why it was cut short before every last thread got tied off. Overall, 4.5 stars. It was just shy of being a perfect YA/NA crossover fantasy.
The River of Silver
After finishing the final full-length installment of the Daevabad Trilogy (Saga? Series?) I wrote down a list of questions I was left with.
1. Do Ali and Nahri ever fully acknowledge their romance?
2. Where did Dara go?
3. Where did Zaynab and Aquisa end up?
4. Did Muntadhir ever learn that Jamshid was the one who poisoned Ali?
5. Did Jamshid ever learn Muntadhir was responsible for Kaveh’s death?
This collection of short stories in the Daevabad universe answered all those questions, as well as questions I did not I even had! Yes, Nahri gifts Ali was the Marid-style marriage mask implying that they will eventually get married. Dara crosses paths with Zaynab and Aquisa (who are officially together now!), and they’re going to hunt Ifrit as a trio (spin-off anyone)? Muntadhir and Jamshid both admitted to the transgressions they committed against each other’s family members and have decided to still be together. Is this unrealistic? Yes. Am I mad? Not really. So many authors love to give the queer couple tragic endings, especially in fantasy, so even if it’s unrealistic and probably unhealthy, I’m happy to see the M/M couple get the win for once.
This story collection also gave some meaningful insight into other side characters—some who I didn’t realize could use further development, like Ali’s mother—and some who were begging for it, like Manizheh. My biggest criticism of the last book was that Manizheh wasn’t a deep and nuanced enough character, but her chapters in River of Silver really helped correct that.
I would give this short collection of stories 4 out of 5 stars. It was well-written, added depth to the world, and it tied up loose ends well. It’s not overall necessary for your comprehension of the full story, but it’s a lovely companion.
Final Thoughts on Full Series
I would give the entire series 4.5 stars out of 5. It’s plotted so well from start to finish. It’s unique and well written. I’ve never read anything else like it, and I just adored the character arcs. The only real flaw is that the pacing fumbles in certain places, but overall, no criticisms of the story’s plot as a whole!
Comments
Post a Comment