Book review
Written by Jacqueline Carey
Gollancz hardback / paperback
Release date Out now

Moirin of the Maghuin Dhonn lives a life of isolation with her mother in a cave in Alba (England). When Cillian, a local son of royalty, meets and falls in love with Moirin, the two embark on a passionate relationship that culminates in his death. Feeling lost and guilty, Moirin leaves home to face the Great Bear Spirit and discover whether she truly belongs with her people. Although she is accepted, there is ambiguity in the acceptance, prompting her to abandon the shores of Alba and journey across the seas in search of her destiny...

Naamah’s Kiss has all the necessary ingredients of classic fantasy: exotic locations, complex cultures, numerous characters and plenty of magic. Moirin’s magic comes via the power of invisibility handed down through her folk, but the protagonist also possesses her own kind of magic: the gift of communicating with plants and breathing life back into those that are dying. Elsewhere, the d’Angelines (the French) bring demon-summoning to the table, and the Ch’in (the Chinese) provide the iconic dragon.

All of this promises an exciting read, yet sadly Jacqueline Carey’s novel never quite satisfies. Following her ‘diadh-anam’, Moirin’s journey is controlled by the life pulse she feels inside, directing her blindly towards situations and places with no real clarity of motivation – only suggestions that may or may not prove fruitful. This manner of propulsion becomes irritating as her actions seem to lack incentive, making many of the events feel shallow and immaterial.

The sense of anticipation dwindles further as the novel progresses, and the excessive length squanders the initial momentum. As a result, this story of self discovery just doesn’t have the intensity it should.

The book features plenty of erotic encounters, but they offer little that is especially new, and the frivolity with which Moirin engages in such activities causes them to feel rather inconsequential. For someone who is a relative ‘innocent’ to the world of lust and desire, she displays little hesitation in bedding down with anyone who propositions her (male or female), and though justification is offered in the God of Desire, Naamah, encouraging her to do so, these couplings strangely lack tension or excitement.

The final third of the novel sees Moirin leave Terre d’Ange and set off for Ch’in, a departure that would’ve made a fitting ending to this instalment and a tantalising cliffhanger to be continued in the follow-up. The journey to Ch’in is, however, chronicled in its entirety and, while the sequence isn’t uninteresting, it stretches the book beyond what’s necessary, making it feel longer than it actually is. The protagonist’s initial emigration from Alba (England) to Terre d’Ange (France) feels well timed and convincing; the subsequent move feels rushed, and it changes the mood of the book altogether.

Despite its drawbacks Naamah’s Kiss is by no means an unpleasant read. The story is imaginative and fast-paced, combining intrigue, action and romance into a world that Carey makes as believable as our own. Although the characters don’t have the depth they could have had, they carry the story along and keep the narrative engaging. The Maghuin Dhonn are a well realised race, as are the exuberant D’Angelines and spirited Ch’in. Lady Jehanne and Rapheal de Mereliot may be caricatures, but they both act as catalysts for exciting turning points in the story, while Master Lo Feng and Bao are particularly intriguing personalities.

In fact it’s Moirin herself who is perhaps the least compelling character, her supposed ‘naiveity’ never feeling entirely convincing. Nevertheless, Carey does well to maintain our interest for the duration of the tale and establishes enough fascinating elements to warrant reading the sequel. Alice Wybrew

VERDICT: 6/10
It’s certainly flawed, but with lovers, fighters, witches and sorcerers, this is a novel to remember.