The Kushiel Re-Read Thread

So, I've been meaning to do this for a while now, and here we go.

Now, I've never done one of these before, so don't be surprise if the first few posts aren't very good - I'm sure I'll improve as I go along.

My aim is to do three chapters a week, since that seems a short enough length to not interfere with my other writing. And of course, you're all welcome to chime in with your comments - I'm seriously hoping this won't just be me typing into empty cyberspace.

Chapter 1
Phèdre’s parents elope, she’s born, and because she does not fit the aesthetic criteria of the Night Court her parents must find a way to support themselves that doesn’t involve her mother continuing as an adept of Jasmine House. Phèdre’s father takes command of one of his father’s caravans to Caerdicca Unitas, but it is a failure, so when he asks for a second chance, he is told to put up collateral of his own. The only way to raise this is to sell Phèdre into indentured servitude with Cereus House.

”Lest anyone should suppose I’m a cuckoo’s child, got on the wrong side of the blanket by lusty peasant stock and sold into indenture in a shortfallen season, I may say that I am House-born and reared in the Night Court proper, for all the good it did me.”

This chapter is mostly introducing Phèdre and let us know her very earliest backstory, and to introduce some proper nouns of the world she lives in; the Night Court, Terre d’Ange, Caerdicca Unitas probably being the most important ones.

We do also get some information about the customs of the land and of some of the houses of the Night Court – Cereus House specializing in what I interpret as “the Beauty of Fragility.” This, with a re-readers hindsight, seems to me like a poor fit for the woman Phèdre will become, but since she’s only going to be there until she’s ten, maybe the particulars of each house’s teaching doesn’t start until later in an adept’s training and the early years of childhood are given over to a more general training?

I can also notice that, even on my first read of the book, one of the effects of the first-person past-tense style is that the scene with Phèdre’s mother leaving her didn’t affect me very much. It’s in the first chapter of a very thick book, and there’s clearly going to be more important things going on later in the book. And yet, I would say that being abandoned by her parent is one of the defining moments in how Phèdre later acts throughout the books. Looking at her relationships with other people, she seems more ready to accept friendships with persons old enough to be her parents than with those of her own generation. More on this later, though.

So that’s what I was. ‘A whore’s unwanted get.’

Poor Phèdre.

Chapter 2
Phèdre is raised among other children that have been taken in by Cereus House, but she feels a bit apart from them, since they’re all already marked out for one of the Night Court houses, whereas she knows she will never become a Night Court adept.

She is taught about the origins of the d’Angelines by a former adept turned mystic, called Brother Louvel, who tells her and the other children about Blessed Elua, his companions and their wanderings. After the last lesson, Brother Louvel gives the children flowers to pin on their clothes. In an unwatched moment, Phèdre stabs herself with the pin, and experiences visible pleasure (and pain). An adept who sees this takes her to the dowayne of Cereus House who, after reflexively planning to send her on to Valerian House, which specializes in providing submissives and masochists to their clients, instead sends word to Anafiel Delaunay.

So, if Chapter One is about establishing Phèdre, this chapter is about giving us the mystical background of the setting, and I love it. As far as alternate Earths go, the world of Terre d’Ange is one of my absolute favourites, in no small part because of how a tiny little change in an already existing mythology brings on huge ramifications. And while I skimmed over the tales told by Brother Louvel, I’m sure I’m not alone in wishing there’d be an actual Eluine cycle out there to read. (Carey has written a short text about it which I think can be found over at Tor.com, but I’m hazy on the details of this.)

In addition, the story as told to Phèdre mostly focuses on Elua and Naamah – it’d be interesting to hear how those in the service of say, Shemhazai tells the story. Anyway, if someone reads this, please comment more on it than I just did.

Then there’s Phèdre’s moment of taking her first step on the path that will lead her into so much (exciting and horrid at turns) trouble and glory throughout the trilogy. I don’t have that much to say about it, except that it’s a good thing someone was there to see it, because I suspect that even as a child raised by adepts among adepts Phèdre probably wouldn’t have had a clue what just happened beyond her feeling a bit funny when she did the owie.

Chapter Three
Phèdre runs away into the city below the hill of the Night Court. At a pastry-stall a woman is frightened by the mote in her eye and she rushes off and meets a boy, Hyacinthe (Hi Hyacinthe!). Guards from Cereus House catches her, but as she’s taken away, Hyacinthe tells her where he lives and to look him up.

Later, she is cleaned and prettied up and taken to meet with Anafiel Delaunay (Hi Delaunay!). He recognises the mark in her eye for what it is and quotes some arcane lore about it. The Dowayne sets a bond-price for Phèdre, and Delaunay accepts it (to the chagrin of the Dowayne without bargaining). It is decided that Phèdre will remain at Cereus House until she turns ten and receive such training as a future adept of the Night Court would have.

He writes bawdy lyrics? You mean I’m getting dressed out like a Carnival goose to be sold to some seed-stained scribbler with one hand in the inkwell and the other in his breeches?

I’m amused. Both by Phèdre’s ideas of Delaunay before meeting him, and by the thought that perhaps Carey is commenting about what some people might think of her writing-process – the Kushiel-series certainly qualifies as bawdy prose at some points.

Mighty Kushiel, of rod and weal

Late of the brazen portals
With blood-tipp’d dart a wound unhealed
Pricks the eyen of chosen mortals.

So that’s the first three chapters, I hope to do about that every week, but with more commentary (I’ve been having some sleeping issues this past week that’s eaten up a lot of time). A few passing tit-bits before I finish:

So, did I miss something important ? Please comment, as long as people are polite and remember to stick to the forum rules, I’m sure this could be a long-running and fun thread.

subscribes

Oh man I am so eager to see other readers' reactions to this but oh God this is going to get so uncomfortable at points. ;)

I can also notice that, even on my first read of the book, one of the effects of the first-person past-tense style is that the scene with Phèdre’s mother leaving her didn’t affect me very much. It’s in the first chapter of a very thick book, and there’s clearly going to be more important things going on later in the book. And yet, I would say that being abandoned by her parent is one of the defining moments in how Phèdre later acts throughout the books. Looking at her relationships with other people, she seems more ready to accept friendships with persons old enough to be her parents than with those of her own generation. More on this later, though.

Got some thoughts on that that might need to wait until later. I really do suspect that was an intended effect though. It's still totally a defining moment, but maybe the lack of affect was to emphasize where she did emotionally invest later on?

So, if Chapter One is about establishing Phèdre, this chapter is about giving us the mystical background of the setting, and I love it. As far as alternate Earths go, the world of Terre d’Ange is one of my absolute favourites, in no small part because of how a tiny little change in an already existing mythology brings on huge ramifications. And while I skimmed over the tales told by Brother Louvel, I’m sure I’m not alone in wishing there’d be an actual Eluine cycle out there to read. (Carey has written a short text about it which I think can be found over at Tor.com, but I’m hazy on the details of this.)

In addition, the story as told to Phèdre mostly focuses on Elua and Naamah – it’d be interesting to hear how those in the service of say, Shemhazai tells the story. Anyway, if someone reads this, please comment more on it than I just did.

I guess we get a little bit of a view of the Casseline viewpoint sometimes, but we don't get immersed in it the same way. But yeah, it does leave one curious about how much a shift of lens would change in the telling.

You're totally not alone on wanting a complete Eluine Cycle either.

And for those who don’t speak French, “Terre d’Ange” literally means “Land of Angels.”

beyond her feeling a bit funny when she did the owie.

snorts

Quick question: Would you like everyone to mark their spoilers in case any first-time readers(or rereaders that have actually forgotten details) can read along without being spoiled? Of course, with all the foreshadowing woven into Phèdre's narration, that may become a bit tricky.

Thanks for taking this on, Kajehase! It's going to be a long ride! :)

Quick Answer: I'd like to make use of the luxury of this being a re-read to not have to worry about putting in spoiler-warnings, so as far as I'm concerned - spoil away! (Also, first-time readers sticking to three chapters a week? That'd take some Cassiline self-control.)

*spoiler*

Have you read the other 8 Terre D'Ange novels?

Yep. And the Delaunay-focused short story she wrote for one of GRR Martin's anthologies.

Oh! I haven't read that short story yet.

I've only read the first book, and that was when it was new, and I have coincidentally just started on Kushiel's Dart again to get to read the rest finally. I know I loved it!

Quick update: This week's post is written, but since my laptop can't connect to the web at my place and work was horrible tonight I won't be able to post it until tomorrow. To avoid this happening too often in the future, I think that as of next week I'll set this on my Tuesday schedule instead.

There's a lovely review of it over on Amazon.

Chapter Four
After the agreement with Delaunay, Phèdre is given the beginnings of what used to be termed a ‘classical education’ – or at least those parts of it useful to a Courtesan, so probably a bit light on things like history and geography unless they’re part of a poem, and absolutely no politics – along with the arts of the salon, such as singing and playing instruments. By listening to servants’ gossip and overheard conversations between the adepts of the House, she also learns some other things, such as:

“There are twenty-seven places on a man’s body and forty-five on a woman’s that provide intense desire when appropriately stimulated.”

Since I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment, I’m unable to put this to the test, but for those of you with a partner, start looking, counting, and report back. ;)

Delaunay, it seemed, had given orders that I was to be rendered unto him in as pure and untainted a state as it was possible to maintain for a child in the Night Court.

I’m slightly curious as to why he’d stipulate this –it’s not like his plans for her require some virginal nun straight out of the monastery. Maybe it’s just a case of him wanting to make sure he can have some control of what she learns of ‘Naamah’s Arts’ and when? Regardless, it means Phèdre is not allowed to read more of the works of [I]“…Felice Dolophilus, who joyfully unmanned himself for love of his mistress.”

Can anyone remember if we hear about worship of Magna Mater (the Great Mother) in Caerdicca Unitas during the course of the books, cause Dolophilus sounds like he could be a worshiper?

During the years covered by this chapter, the widow of the former Daupin dies, and we’re told that Phèdre mostly feels sympathy for the little Dauphine, who is her own age. Making up some romantic notions about her – “One day a handsome Duc would ride to her rescue.” Which does happen near the end of this book, although it’s clearly a lot more complicated than that, but a nice bit of not at all obvious foreshadowing.

She continues her friendship with Hyacinthe, repeatedly running away – if you can call it that when the people tasked with catching her always knows where to find her – to meet with him in the part of town below Mont Nui, called Night’s Doorstep. (Nuit is French for Night.) We learn that his mother is a washerwoman/fortuneteller – the only Tsingano fortuneteller in the City, in fact. We’re also told of at least one occasion where her foretelling came true. The Dowayne is not much pleased with this running away business, however, and after the third such escape has Phèdre flogged in front of all the adepts and servants of House Cereus.

And this would be Phèdre’s first real experience of the pleasure of pain – which is very well described by Carey. The fact that she’s able to write a scene of someone whipping a child and have me not throw away the book is proof enough of that, because in real life, if I were to see someone so much as slap a child, I’d be on the phone to the police right there (corporeal punishment of any kind, including that of parents on their children has been illegal in Sweden since the year I was born, 1979, and yeah, it’s something I have very, very little respect for). But continuing the discussion of Carey’s writing, there’s another thing about this scene that’s proof of good writing, which is that Phèdre’s voice is already so strong and established that at no point does her simultaneous reactions of “That’s really, really good,” and, “Please make it stop, please!” feel weird. You just go with it.

One thing I do have a real problem with, though, is the portrayal throughout this book of the Tsingano. The reason for this is that, in my opinion, it relies a little too much on one of the stereotypes about the Roma peoples that “we” i.e. the non-roma peoples of Europe have invented to justify our frankly horrendous treatment of them. In this case it’s the myth of the free as a bird, mystically connected nomads with their handsome horses and beautiful but mysterious women, which at least is better than the will-steal-anything-that’s-not-nailed-down myth, but still pretty bad – especially considering that anti-Ziganism is still a big deal in Europe (as an illustration, the day I post this, 11 roma sues the Swedish state because the police in Scania kept an ethnic register of about 5000 people, mostly roma despite this being very much illegal). So yes, I could have wished for a little less of that.

Chapter Five
Shortly before she is about to turn ten, Phèdre is allowed to attend the annual Midwinter Masque, a celebration which is said to have had roots back to the time before the arrival of Elua in what would become Terre d’Ange. In it, a ritual marriage between the Winter Queen (who at first appears as an old crone) and the Sun Prince symbolizes the birth of the new year, as well as the Sun Prince’s lordship over the land. The Masque is also special because no patrons are allowed to attend unless given special tokens – this is a party for the Night Court’s adepts, not their customers.
Phèdre and the other children who are to attend as basically waiters and waitresses are dressed up as winter sprites in “Sheer white tunics of gossamer… with dagged sleeves beaded in glass that hung down like icicles…” and are given trays full of glasses with joie, which sounds like the best hard liquor ever. Sadly, I’m pretty certain real-world Edelweiß can not be used for something like this.
The various houses make an entrance, dressed up according to various themes, followed by the invited guests, and Phèdre takes special notice of the adepts from Mandrake House, which is the House dedicated to giving pain as pleasure.

During the party, Phèdre literally bumps into Delaunay, who tells her keep her eyes open since “There may be more to see here than paid flagellants with a fetish for black velvet.”

Snort And now I’m picturing the adepts of Mandrake House as all looking like Robert Smith from the Cure in his 1980’s heyday.

About an hour before midnight a new party arrives at the festivities, it’s four young noblemen who behaves like a bunch of spoiled rock stars. Drunk rock stars. We learn that this is Prince Baudoin, a prince of the blood, and his friends. Phèdre tries to serve the prince, but is grabbed by another, called Isidore, who of course will be much more important in the latter half of the book, who asks another companion to taste the drinks first. Then Baudoin kisses Phèdre for good luck, tosses back glass after glass of joie while tossing glass after empty glass on the floor, leaving Phèdre feeling teary-eyed as she tries to pick up the broken glass shards.
At midnight, when the Winter Queen and the Sun Prince are unmasked, the Sun Prince is revealed to be none other than Prince Baudoin, which sets of plenty of gossip in the city in the following weeks and months, as it can be seen as him making a claim for the throne.

And speaking of foreshadowing:

Some would say he was a fool to trust Melisande, and perhaps he was; even so, he would not have seen the other betrayal coming, from one he’d known longer.

So not only are we told that Prince Baudoin will come to a bad end, but even before we’ve heard anything else about her, we’re told that it’s probably a bad idea to trust Melisande.

Chapter Six
When she turns ten, Phèdre becomes the responsibility of Delaunay, who turns up to fetch her – after the Dowayne has given Phèdre a kind of blessing by complaining that she should have asked for a higher price for her marque. In the carriage ride from Cereus House to Delaunay’s town house, Phèdre gets to see the City of Elua for the first time since she was four years old (apparently Night’s Doorstep doesn’t count). At the town house, she meets Alcuin, “the most beautiful boy I had ever seen).

There’s a welcoming feast of iced melons and grapes in a garden courtyard, where Phèdre is confused by the lack of a kneeling cushion. When Delaunay explains that he does not consider himself to be of higher worth than her, and that she should consider himself his equal, as he owns her marque, not her, and that he wishes that once she’s earned the price of that marque she would see him as someone who helped raise her up, she observes that, “You like to people to owe you favours,” eliciting surprised amusement from him.
Another thing that confuses Phèdre is what she is told to study – not the arts of the salon, but languages and the art of observation, which Delaunay considers far more important. When Phèdre protests that she already knows how to see and hear things, Delaunay asks her and Alcuin to describe the carriage they arrived in, and Alcuin demonstrates that he saw quite a bit more than Phèdre, but then Phèdre again surprises Delaunay by figuring out it was he who’d bet on Prince Baudoin being this year’s Sun Prince.

So, this is a fairly transitional chapter, but we do get to learn a bit more about Delaunay and what his plans might be. One thing that struck me on this re-read was that he must have been quite relieved when Phèdre showed some signs of intelligence and perception – considering that he’s planning to use her and Alcuin as spies, it would have been quite a poor investment for him if she’d turned out to be an airhead.

And Alcuin is one of my favourite characters – admittedly we’re told the story through the perspective of Phèdre who has cause to gloss over any bad sides he might have had, but from his introduction in this chapter, he pretty much comes across as a perfect friend.

And in conclusion, I thought I should mention that the fiction podcast Far Fetched Fables has one of Jacqueline Carey's stories up this week. It's not Kushiel-related, but I figured I should mention it anyway.

I'm not gonna lie, Alcuin was my favorite character. He just hit certain sympathetic notes for me.

I loved how Phèdre's internal dialogue switches gears from "oh I hate this kid" to "oh I love him" like it ain't no thing.

And yeah, the foreshadowing gets laid on thick in the first half of Dart. It prepares you for some things, but damn it still hurts when it happens.

Honestly, if I could get one point in the books expanded into a full novel, it would be these early years at the Delaunay household.

I remember one of the transfer kids from Mandrake house being really shaken by their appearance at the masque. While his not being a fit for that house is likely what got his marque sold to Cereus, you have to wonde just what he experienced to leave him that scared of them. Or maybe it's just that Mandrake is intimidating period.

Kushiel's Kids.

Chapter Seven
Phèdre studies Caerdicci, Cruithne (which she thinks seem pointless), and Skaldic. Alcuin has a facility for Skaldic, because his wet-nurse spoke it to him in the crib.
She’s also taught history – we’re taught that Delaunay suspects the fall of Tiberium has less to do with the birth of Yeshua, and more to do with the Yeshuite bankers dispersing from the city of Tiberium, creating a lack of liquid funds that resulted in the fall of the empire and the break-up of Caerdicca into separate city-states. He also claims that Terre d’Ange has no history before the coming of Elua and his companions who remained for sixty years, indelibly changing the land in their image. In addition, we learn about the Cruithne hero-king Cinhil Ru who united the tribes of Alba and drove the Tiberians out.
Alcuin has studied these matters, as well as court politics, for two years already, and Phèdre envies him his head-start, but can’t help but love him because he’s just that nice.

More world-building, and the bit about Alba is quite interesting. For starters, we learn that the island we call Britain is here known as Alba, which is what the first kingdom of a united Scotland was called (the Cruithne was an actual tribe, living in what to this day is still sometimes called “the Kingdom of” Fife just north of Edinburgh. My parents go there to play golf once or twice a year). As far as Delaunay’s claims that Terre d’Ange remained peaceful throughout the whole period before the coming of Elua, and that the Tiberians didn’t leave behind their language, I’m going to go ahead and say that this I suspect this is one of the first major cases of d’Angeline conceit about their nation we’re shown. My inclination is to believe that both the d’Angeline language, as well as the effective administration of the realm owes a debt to the Tiberians, but that Elua and his companions so over-shadow anything that occurred before them, that it’s been forgotten and proof in that direction are simply discounted by the d’Angeline historians.

Whenever Delaunay has guests, Alcuin does the serving, and Phèdre has to stay hidden away, despite being better trained at it. We’re told, later in the chapter, that this is because when Delaunay sells their first time as adepts of Naamah, having Alcuin be a known figure will drive up the price, whereas with Phèdre, the opposite is true.
Delaunay has many feasts, and many guests from all spheres of influence. The one we’re given a slightly more detailed introduction of is Prince Baudoin’s uncle Gaspar, brother of the Duke Marc de Trevalion who is wed to the king’s sister Lyonette, and a comte (count) in his own right.
After the feasts, Delaunay debriefs Alcuin, with Phèdre present, so they can both learn about how the game of influence works.

Hello Gaspar. Nice name you’ve got.
And yeah, nice picture of how Delaunay the master spy works, and as for his strategy with regards to Alcuin and Phèdre: slightly creepy to someone with a modern, real-world upbringing and values – and going by some of the things his peers call him behind his back, maybe even a bit frowned upon in Terre d’Ange (although it could just be that it’s seen as beneath a nobleman to work as a procurer, classism seems something the d’Angeline nobles would be good at) – but it seems to be fine from the point of view of someone reared in the Eluine religion.
On a complete tangent, one of the things that bothered me the most when I listened to the audiobook of the Kushiel books (other than the narrator pronouncing Joscelin like the name of the rather cute girl I went to school with [Yoss-eh-lin] rather than the French [Shoosh-lain]) was that the narrator kept saying Duke rather than Duc as it says in the text. If you’ve studied French, these minor things can get annoying.

And then we get our first glimpse of Melisande:

“If I say her skin was like alabaster, her hair a black so true it gleamed blue where the light touched it and her eyes a sapphire that gemstones might envy, I speak only the truth; but she was a d’Angeline, and this only hints at the beginning of beauty.”

“When I glanced up politely to meet the blue eyes of Melisande Shahrizai, her look went through me like a spear, my knees turned to water, I knew that she was a scion of Kushiel.”

“Her smile made me tremble, and at last I understood what Delaunay had meant. The memory of the Dowayne’s chastiser and the adepts of Mandrake House paled beside the exquisite cruelty etched in that smile. I would like to say that I sensed then, the long corridor of history stretching before us, the role I was to play, and the terrible lengths to which it would drive me, but it would be a lie. I thought nothing of the kind. I thought nothing at all. Instead, I forgot my manners, my long training in the Night Court, and wallowed in her blue gaze. ‘Yes,’ I whispered in answer. ‘My lady.’”

I’m almost tempted to leave it without comment, but I will at least say that even on my fifth or sixth re-read of the book, her introduction still stands out as one of the better “Hey, pay attention!” moments I’ve read, and I’m totally sold on Phèdre’s, erm… fascination with her from the get go. If shipping Phèdre and Melisande is wrong (it probably is), I guess I’ll have to be wrong.

Of course, this is also where Delaunay lays the groundwork for his own future demise, revealing to Melisande that he is up to something by showing off Phèdre. Then again, it is also the beginning of Melisande’s undoing as a serious player in d’Angeline politics, as she mistakes Phèdre for just a plaything – and Elua’s Balls is she wrong.

Chapter Eight – or, the continuing mystery of Anafiel Delaunay

“History, politics, geography… the lessons were unending.

Along with Phèdre, we’re taught how the land of Terre d’Ange is organised, as well as a bit about the nature and personality of each of the provinces – all named for the Companion of Elua who resided in them. And we get our first mention of the Cassiline Brotherhood along with some of their teachings and practices, including the downright un-d’Angeline practice of celibacy.

Yay, more world-building! (Although it’s a pain to decide how much of it to include in the summary…)

The text moves on into a lesson on geopolitics, where we learn that there’s been fighting on the border with Skaldia – while Delaunay declares that the tribes of Skaldia remain unorganised and no great threat, they’re still acting more aggressive than they’ve done since the Battle of the Three Princes in which Prince Rolande died. We’re told that Delaunay was part of that battle, and that the Prince fell because he came too far ahead of his own troops during the third charge (not unlike the Swedish king Gustav II Adolf at the Battle of Lützen during the 30-Years-War).

“My lord, what has that to do with Skaldic raiders on the eastern border.”

“We needs must study the whole warp and weft of it to predict the pattern on the loom.”

“The Wheel Weaves as the Weave Wills.”

Oh wait, wrong series… And here we get into the bit which made me give the chapter the subtitle I did. Delaunay is a tres mysterious character, ain’t he? The bit of history we learn here is interesting, but won’t be that important for a few more chapters, though. We also see a first glimpse of what Delaunay’s worst failing is – he can’t see the Skaldic threat, because the Skaldians have never been (a big) threat before, so he pretty much ignores them.

And then Hyacinthe is re-introduced, revealing some interest in the mystery of Delaunay as well.
We learn that the first time Phèdre escaped from Delaunay’s house to meet with him, she learned that Delaunay not only knew who she’d gone to meet, but where to find them, and that his man Guy came to fetch her once she was done. When Delaunay spoke to the returned Phèdre, he was amused, but informed that in the future she was to inform Guy of where she went, and if she were to disobey him, he’d sell her marque.

“Only insofar as you enjoy being sorry, my dear.”

Hyacinthe has learned that Delaunay’s poetry was banned because of a poem he’d written that accused the Princess-Consort, Isabel l’Envers, for having been behind the death of her predecessor as betrothed to Prince Rolande, Edme de Rocaille. Furthermore, since he wasn’t banished, someone at court must have protected him. Hyacinthe’s mother then has a foretelling:

“You will rue the day all is made clear. Do not seek to hasten its coming.”

Well, that’s not ominous or anything… And more court-intrigue and delving into the mystery of Delaunay. Who is he? We know the answer, but for Phèdre and Alcuin, this must have gotten more and more frustrating until they discovered it. And, of course, we also get our first mention by name of a member of the l’Envers family, as well as of Delaunay’s old childhood friend Edme de Rocaille, a.k.a. Lady Does-Not-Appear-In-These-Books who we’ll learn casts a shadow over the first two books, and whose death will play an important part in our heroes’ relationships with Barquiel l’Envers through two trilogies.

Nine – Pornographie à la Terre d’Ange
When she turns fourteen and comes of age, Delaunay asks her if it is her will to make up her bondsprice as a servant of Naamah. She (obviously) responds in the affirmative, so Delaunay takes her and Alcuin (who’s already pledged himself to Naamah’s service) to the City’s Temple of Naamah. There, they are greeted by a nameless adept, who takes them to the centre of the temple where Phédre is accepted as an adept of Naamah by a priest. And then Delaunay throws them a celebration.

And another scene which could raise a few eyebrows if this were set in the real world – but Delaunay does his best to make sure the choice he asks Phèdre (and Alcuin) to make is a real choice. As we’ll see later, with Alcuin he didn’t entirely succeed, and I seem to recall that he does try to make up for that.
The ceremony in the temple is quite lovely, and we’ll see more of that nameless adept (and her daughter) in later books, if my memory serves me.

Later, Delaunay sends his two charges to Camellia House for a “Showing,” that is, a demonstration of the act of having sex. As a flautist plays, two adepts have sex in an artful way, and Phèdre is quite taken with it.

“This is how we pray, who are servants of Naamah.”

Still kneeling, hands clasped tight together, I found myself weeping at the beauty of it. They were like birds, who mate on the wing. It was a ritual, and no mere spectacle; I could taste the worship and desire of it, flooding my mouth like the priest’s honey.

D’Angeline porn is the best!

But seriously, the latter half of the chapter shows how to write sex classy, and I totally understand Phèdre’s reaction – it sounds beautiful. There’s not that much more to it, except maybe it’s worth noting how comfortable Phèdre is in taking the abeyante posture on the kneeling cushion, and that Alcuin isn’t, quite. I think it’s in Kushiel’s Chosen that she reflects on how good it feels to feel uncomfortable stone under her knees when she’s kneeling to the high priestess on Crete.

Quote:

Delaunay, it seemed, had given orders that I was to be rendered unto him in as pure and untainted a state as it was possible to maintain for a child in the Night Court.

I’m slightly curious as to why he’d stipulate this –it’s not like his plans for her require some virginal nun straight out of the monastery. Maybe it’s just a case of him wanting to make sure he can have some control of what she learns of ‘Naamah’s Arts’ and when?

My sense is that it's for a couple reasons: first, he wants her to be a virgin for her debut (while the D'Angelines are anything but sex-negative, there's still obviously a sort of premium placed on being a courtesan's first lover), and second, that while he doesn't want her completely untutored in the art of the whole thing, he wants her acting naturally and largely on instinct as far as the Kusheline aspects of it go.

As much as the narrative about these books has always been that they're pro-BDSM, I'd argue that they actually demonstrate a profound ambivalence toward it (or at least a sense that even most of the people involved in it don't actually get it).

Even in Terre D'Ange, where sex is elevated both into an art form and a sacred practice, where being seen with a courtesan is a boon to your reputation rather than a blemish on it, many of Phedre's patrons want their assignations kept secret, many seem ashamed of what they've done to her, and so on. We meet adepts of most of the Houses of the Night Court who seem to enjoy their jobs, but at least until the Imriel trilogy, the Valerian adepts seem somewhat burnt out and unhappy, bound to their practices more out of need than joy. And there seems to be more eye-rolling at Mandrake House than anything else. We don't see anything that looks like genuinely loving/healthy BDSM practice/aftercare until Nicola comes along in later books. (Melisandre is a unique case--but while her relationship with Phedre might contain genuine love and tenderness, I'd hardly describe it as healthy.)

Phedre takes genuine joy in it, but we're given to understand that she gets it at a different level than anyone else because it's not a fetish for her, it's the result of a god's touch and she is a god's tool. And there are times where even she, feted by her people, trusted and loved by the rulers, blessed and actively aided by her gods, and so on, wishes she were "normal."

It didn't register when I first read through it (I spent most of those scenes wincing), but I imagine that for people who are part of the BDSM community, the narrative's ambivalence would have been more obvious. But in retrospect, it started to stick out that even in a culture that regards all consensual sex as sacred, this type is viewed differently -- perhaps because it flirts with nonconsensuality, which is the worst sort of blasphemy/abomination in Terre D'Ange.

And as we can see from the Valerian adepts, who are portrayed as somewhat broken (I think it's Melisandre who describes them that way) in contrast to Phedre's fire and defiance, there is a danger of burn-out/brokenness in it.

I think Delaunay didn't want to risk Phedre ending up that way, at least not until he'd had a chance to use her to find Isabel's killer. And he knew that being what she was, any sexual exploration she did was going to head in a dangerous direction, so he prohibited all of it until her debut. Even if she burned out fast after that, it would likely be after she'd at least gotten him some information.

No post this week because I've been reading too much Terry Pratchett instead. I should be able to do a response to Jessica's post, though (would have done so earlier, but it deserves better than the snippets I post when I use the phone.)

So, my grandmother is probably dying (94 years old, kidney failure, and blood poisoning), and I can't sit down and write without crying.

I will finish this project, but it's probably going to be very slow as long as she's suffering and my lack of car (or driver's license, for that matter) means I can't even visit her at the hospital.

So, my grandmother is probably dying (94 years old, kidney failure, and blood poisoning), and I can't sit down and write without crying.

I will finish this project, but it's probably going to be very slow as long as she's suffering and my lack of car (or driver's license, for that matter) means I can't even visit her at the hospital.

I'm so sorry; my sympathies and my best wishes for strength and comfort for you and your family in this time.

So, my grandmother is probably dying (94 years old, kidney failure, and blood poisoning), and I can't sit down and write without crying.

I will finish this project, but it's probably going to be very slow as long as she's suffering and my lack of car (or driver's license, for that matter) means I can't even visit her at the hospital.

I just found this thread, and as a fellow fan of the books I was super pleased to have done so - until I hit this. I'm sorry to hear of your impending loss. My deepest sympathies for you and your family.

I wish there were something I could say. I'm so sorry.

I finally managed to sit down and jot some notes for the next chapter onto a pad.

Grandma is doing less bad (but, yeah, not many grains left in her hourglass), so hopefully I should be able to get something posted by the end of the week, now it's just about breaking out of my turning the computer on = playing Football Manager routine.

And thanks for all the commisserations. They helped when things looked their bleakest.

Please take as long as you need. We'll be here. ^_^

Please take as long as you need. We'll be here. ^_^

Quite so. And yes, we will definitely be here - I'm very excited to see this project move onward when you're ready!

As much as the narrative about these books has always been that they're pro-BDSM, I'd argue that they actually demonstrate a profound ambivalence toward it (or at least a sense that even most of the people involved in it don't actually get it).

In a similar vein, I've noticed that Carey closely associates two things that are not necessarily linked. One is physical: Phedre's nervous system has great difficulty distinguishing pain signals from pleasure signals.

The other is psychological: Phedre enjoys sexual submission.

In the world of the story, Phedre serves Kushiel's purposes best by expressing both sensory nondiscrimination and a preference for submission. However, plenty of people in real life prefer submission and/or masochism without posessing Phedre's unique nervous system. Giving Phedre this physical trait is another way in which Carey's approach to BDSM themes displays some ambivalence.

And as we can see from the Valerian adepts, who are portrayed as somewhat broken (I think it's Melisandre who describes them that way) in contrast to Phedre's fire and defiance, there is a danger of burn-out/brokenness in it.

We're told that children being raised in Valerian House are never given pleasure without some pain being associated with it. For example, whenever Valerian children receive candy, it's always uncomfortably spicy. This is one of the most unsettling aspects of the Court of Night-Blooming Flowers for me, because the adults in Valerian House are literally grooming children for a future of sexual submission and/or masochism. Safe, sane and consensual? No, no, and no. Would it really be so hard for Valerian House to recruit young adults from the other Houses who have discovered that they prefer sexual submission and/or masochism? Do they have to try to predispose children toward masochism in order to maintain a suitable population level in their House? If Mandrake House uses similar methods to predispose children toward sexual sadism and/or dominance, then I find that equally repulsive. If some members of both Houses would not have developed their House's signature preference without grooming, then it's not surprising that they suffer high rates of burnout.

Note: To clarify, I would have no issues with either of these Houses if they recruited people above Terre d'Ange's age of consent who had already discovered their own preferences for sadism/masochism and dominance/submission. It's the deliberate grooming of children toward either aspect of BDSM that I find disturbing.

It also shows a sad, tired incomprehension of how sexuality works. You can't change someone's tastes in sexuality, either as children or adults.

Yes, absolutely.

I think Carey tries to mitigate it by saying that Valerian House sends away the children who don't understand that the pleasure of the spicy candy comes from the pain of the spice, but there's really no getting around that it's disturbing as hell. (Not to mention that liking a bit of burn with your candy doesn't exactly indicate that you're suited to a lifetime of pain-focused sexual experiences. (It's also troubling that Valerian House conflates three different fetishes/preferences: enjoying pain, enjoying humiliation, and simply being submissive.)