As a result, the world feels bigger and more real than before – strange though that is to say about a world with djinn, angels and even elemental gods given solidity. Given the extra space in a novel to expand in, Djèlí takes advantage and surrounds Fatma with a range of characters, the important ones of which are much nondescript. More so he is unhappy with what he sees and is bringing retribution on those he sees as unworthy. The cause seems to have been magical in origin, namely that the cause of the original rift, Al-Jahiz, is claiming to have returned. This story begins with a murder – actually, 12 in fact – of a secret brotherhood named The Hermetic Brotherhood of Al-Jahiz.įatma el-Sha’arawi, in her role as an Agent for the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments and Supernatural Entities, is given the case to solve. Though there are threats of renewed global conflict, which leads to a summit meeting about to be held in Cairo, there are still the usual crimes occurring – shoplifting, robbery and murder. It reminded me a little of Mike Moorcock’s The Warlord of the Air series.ĭespite all of this change, generally things seem to be readjusting into a new normal. One of the main methods of inter-continental travel is by airship, for example, and there are clockwork automata referred to as “boilerplate eunuchs”. The setting is a lovely mix of Ancient Egypt, with occult practices and steampunk thrown in. Consequently, in this Cairo of 1912 we have humans living alongside djinn, goblins, angels and other magical beings. In this alternate globe we are looking at a world where fifty years or so ago Al-Jahiz opened a connection between the mundane and the magical, and when he departed he left the portal open. Those pictures were brought back to life in my head by this terrific novel, a story which mixes those descriptions with steam-punky innovations and occult magic.* Since then, whenever I think of Cairo, in my head I create images of sun, sand, relentless heat and ancient history. I read historical accounts of the King and the uncovering of the tomb by Howard Carter and his team, which led me to details of the co-called “Curse” on Caernarvon and… well, you get the idea. I would look at the newspapers in the library, making notes, read books and even do what I guess would now be called a show and tell session at school, with a model of the tomb made out of plasticine and papier mache. It was the time of the Tutankhamun exhibition in London in 1972, and whilst I was too young and too poor to travel to see it – the queues were round the block, anyway – I would rabidly read anything I could get my hands on about the boy prince. Once upon a time I was an eight-year-old obsessed with Egyptology.
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