Book Review: The Kingdom of Copper by S. A. Chakraborty

By Samreen Khan

The Kingdom of Copper is the second book in the Daevabad trilogy, and it is mesmerizing. 

Assuming you have already read the first book, you know that it ended in a bloody battle between Prince Alizayd and the dashing warrior Djinn Dara. Jump forward five years to where the second book begins—in which we see an exiled Alizayd, a married Nahri, and an allegedly dead Dara. 

As Nahri is learning how to navigate court politics while being married to Alizayd’s elder brother Muntadhir, we see an exiled Alizayd reluctantly return to Daevabad due to the political machinations of his maternal family. Upon his return, Alizayd is unable to control his outrage at the treatment meted out to the shafit population of Daevabad (who are of mixed human and Djinn heritage). As a result of his outrage, he commits to partnering with Nahri to help fulfill her dreams of opening a magical hospital that would offer treatments to everyone, regardless of their blood status. Meanwhile, in another part of the kingdom, Dara has been returned to his original Daeva body without his consent by Manizeh (she is the long-assumed-dead magical healer) who has been biding her time to return to Daevabad and exact vengeance on King Ghassan. All this culminates in a genocidal attack on the city and palace during the Navasatem celebration, which is the celebration of a new century in the magical world. This wreaks havoc on the magical city of Daevabad and its residents, who ultimately pay the highest price they ever could: the loss of all magic. 

The Kingdom of Copper sets forwards three different character arcs: that of the trapped, restless yet brilliant Nahri; the forever kind, humanitarian Alizayd; and the honourable yet helpless Dara who has been resurrected from the lap of death to be used as a weapon without his consent. Nahri’s character becomes more pragmatic as the book progresses and she learns that her position entrusts her with far greater authority than she could ever bargain for. Alizayd’s character slowly realizes that while his faith keeps him grounded no matter what, the definition of good versus evil isn’t rigid—these two polarities are in fact very fluid. Dara, on the other hand, realizes that consent is of utmost importance when your agency is lost. He also comes to acknowledge that his loyalty to his tribe cannot take precedence over the humanitarian treatment of others. 

This book is much more intense than the previous installment due to its emphasis on different points of view and the parallels it draws in from contemporary world history. You can see the impact of colonial powers overtaking Nahri’s human world while her own world is being ruined by megalomaniacs with whom she plays deadly court politics. Through Alizayd, Chakraborty weaves in the much-needed perspective on the injustices of the magical world—the treatment being meted out to the shafit population is very reminiscent of our world’s refugee crisis. All the while, Dara’s character is a stark reminder of how single-minded devotion to certain leaders or ideologies can cause even the best of intentions to be meaningless. 

Chakraborty not only weaves contemporary political issues into her books’ characters, she also seamlessly imbues the concepts of consent and othering in a rich tapestry of storytelling and worldbuilding. What attracts me the most in this book is that Chakraborty enmeshes her characters completely into their faith, from which they draw strength and solace. This is not a common trait in many books, and it resonates with readers like myself, for whom faith is a source of comfort and resilience. This book is a must-read if you like non-Eurocentric plot lines with complex characters and earth-shattering magical beings. 

Book Review: The City of Brass by S.A. Chakraborty

By Samreen Khan

There is no other way to put this—I read this book in four days flat, which is a huge feat as I am a working mother of two kids and also because this book is 500 pages long. 

The City of Brass is the first book of the Daevabad trilogy. And you should read this book if you like Muslim folklore; grew up in a Muslim household listening to such folklore; are intrigued by the story of Prophet Suleiman and the Djinns; and if you thrive on stories revolving around mythical creatures, warring tribes, vengeance, sibling squabbles, love, loyalty, friendship, and strong female protagonists. 

This book is a dream come true for Muslim fantasy nerds—it represents a part of Muslim culture and identity in a way that I never thought was possible. The book starts off in Cairo with Nahri, who is a con woman by profession and our lead female character who carries forward all three books of the trilogy. Nahri uses tricks, deceptions, sleight of hand, and knowledge of natural medicines to perform healing rituals to earn her livelihood. One day while performing a zar (a healing custom for troubled souls), Nahri unknowingly taps into a long-forgotten part of her heritage and ends up calling a warrior Djinn named Dara to her aid. And from here the adventure begins and she is transported to the ancient, magical City of Brass—Daevabad—that is hidden from human eyes and is the capital city of all magical races. 

Nahri is catapulted from the war-torn streets of Cairo where ghouls are chasing her to the edgy city of Daevabad that traces its political lineage to the times of Prophet Suleiman (Solomon). It is here that Nahri must face the question of who she really is. Does she truly belong to the lost ancient bloodline that was destined to rule Daevabad as per Suleiman’s wish? The city is fraught with tribal rivalry and rife with tensions between pure blooded Djinns and the Shafit (who are of mixed human and Djinn heritage). And all this is kept under tight control by the current ruler of Daevabad, Ghasan Al Qahtani, who views Nahri as a direct threat to his throne. Nahri unwittingly gets involved with court politics, Dara her warrior Djinn, and Ghasan’s two sons Muntadhir and Alizayd. 

If the plot summary above sounds like a lot—that’s because it is. It’s an entire parallel universe that has been created from scratch by the author who has been very true to Islamic sources and Muslim folklore, and must be applauded for the same. 

I truly enjoyed reading the book because of how it is set parallel to the French invasion of Ottoman Cairo in the 18thcentury; in the human world Nahri faces the impending invasion and then she gets transported to the magical world where again rebellion is brewing. The character of Nahri grows exponentially from the first chapter to the last. Nahri works for her survival at all times, but as her friendships cement with Dara, the warrior sworn to protect her, and Prince Alizayd, she realizes she is not as independent of emotions as she thought she was. She begins to care about the people who surround her and care for her in their own ways. She also learns to trust more, even at times to her detriment. We don’t see much growth in terms of Dara’s character arc, but the character arc that will truly impress readers is that of Prince Alizayd who is standoffish and orthodox in his approach to faith; he has very strong principles and is against the injustices that he sees. Alizayd’s character grows from a rigid box to that of a more open-minded person as he becomes friends with Nahri due to his father’s pressure. After befriending a woman who used to thrive on conning others, Alizayd is amazed at his acceptance of her nature, and he becomes more receptive to the fact that the world is grey-toned. 

Chakraborty writes with a flow and charm that cannot be denied. As a first-time novelist you can see the author’s writing style pick up after the first few chapters when the characters get more drawn out and the plot thickens. Overall the writing is well-researched and the influence of history and medieval Islamic world is evident in it. 

The City of Brass is a well-crafted universe where magical creatures reside, magnificent cities exist, and astounding palaces and libraries hide secrets of the unknown. It takes readers down a mesmerizing fantastical journey that ties intrigue, mystery, love, and loyalty in varying shades of grey. It is a whole new world that awaits you, much more fulfilling than any contemporary magical series can be. This book fills a much needed gap in the Muslim fantasy fiction genre. 

Book Review: Ayesha at Last by Uzma Jalaluddin

By Samreen Khan

Content Warning: human trafficking threats, miscarriage. 

I read this book last year when the pandemic hit, and I was looking for diverse Muslim representation in Canadian literature. I came across this book by chance while browsing Muslim authors on the Edmonton Public Library website. Borrowing this book was probably the best thing I did last year. 

Ayesha at Last is a story set in suburban Toronto, based on Muslim families living there. It starts off with a bang—a snobbish man judging a struggling hijabi woman getting into her car. The story traces the life of Ayesha Shamsi, who wants to be a poet but is settling for a teaching job to pay off her family debts. She lives in suburban Toronto with her inter-generational family that migrated from India years ago, and gets unwittingly entangled between the lives of reserved bachelor Khalid and her younger naïve cousin Hafsa. Khalid is as smart and intelligent as he is orthodox and conservative, and her cousin is everything would-be mother-in-laws search for: rich, beautiful, young, and naïve. The story revolves around how Ayesha must navigate not wanting an arranged marriage, dealing with orthodox Khalid, and managing her younger cousin’s constant refusals to get married. Things take a drastic turn when Khalid gets engaged to Hafsa, all the while thinking of Ayesha. 

Ayesha’s character is spunky, sassy, and true to her faith. She believes in herself and speaks her mind. Her character is juxtaposed against the character arc of Khalid, who is conservative and dresses in suburban Toronto as though he lives in the 17th century. His character goes through tremendous upheaval and growth in the book, and I loved how he learns to take control of his life eventually.  

Uzma Jalaluddin has taken an exceedingly fresh spin on Pride and Prejudice in her debut novel Ayesha at Last. I loved this book for several reasons. First and foremost, the narration style of the author is phenomenal. The writing flows effortlessly between introducing various characters and their backdrops and intertwines their lives. It is a simple book that touches upon exceedingly difficult topics in the immigrant South Asian Muslim communities. Without giving away the entire plot, I would like to mention that the story traces heavy topics such as motherin-laws looking for the richest brides that can bring monetary support to their sons, looking down upon children coming from divorced families, human trafficking rackets, and disowning children under the garb of family honour. I would also like to mention how the author casually slips in the covert/overt racism that exists in corporate Canada via Khalid’s character, who visually represents the media nightmare of a traditional Muslim.

Coming back to why I love this book, my main attraction is the humour and clash between Ayesha and Khalid. Their clashes are what love stories are made of: real, witty, and lovable. I also adore the manner in which the author makes sure that the extended family consistently weaves into the story—this is true of any Indian Muslim family and is an apt representation of the plot setting. I could not put this book down and read it in two days flat. As an Indian Muslim woman, many things resonated with me about the story, the way characters interact, and the manner in which having faith is as normal as breathing for many practicing Muslims. I would sign off by saying: this book is an Indian Muslim romantic comedy set in Canada! I have never come across something that resonates so close to my heart! It’s hilarious and lovable—I vote that a movie should be made from this book!