72 pages • 2 hours read
P. Djèlí ClarkA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“Dalton was obsessed with mummies—part of proving his theory that Egypt’s ancient rulers were truly flaxen-haired relatives to Anglo-Saxons, who held sway of the darker hordes of their realm.”
A curious point in history is that historians love to trace their lineage back to people they find admirable. Several English kings have found ways to trace their lineage back to the fictional Arthur. Geoffrey of Monmouth, a 12th-century historian, wrote that the origin of Britain came straight out of the descendants of Troy in Virgil’s Aeneid. Even the Prose Edda, one of the strongest sources for Norse mythology, traces the heritage of the Aesir gods back to Troy. Dalton’s attempt to whitewash al-Jahiz comes across as a similar historical agenda at best—and cultural appropriation at worst.
“More important, he was a he, which still held weight even in Cairo’s flaunted modernity—which explained the smile on his dark lips.”
Clark makes it clear from Fatma’s introduction that the novel will focus on themes of equality, justice, and, for the protagonist, sexism. Here, Fatma is sitting across from a young man, maybe 17 years old at most. Yet even in Cairo, which presents itself as a bastion of progressive ideas, the young man knows that being male lends him an advantage.
“My old setty used to tell me stories of djinn imprisoned in bottles being thrown into the sea—long before al-Jahiz brought them back into the world. She said fishermen would sometimes find them, and when they freed the djinn, it would grant their greatest desires. Wallahi! Three wishes, that could make you a king or the richest man in the world!”
Nowhere in One Thousand and One Nights does it mention that djinn grant three wishes. The wishes many of them do grant seem to be products of their own free will and usually entail unpleasant consequences. The concept of an enslaved being who grants any wish desired by the holder comes from the French, depicting a sort of colonial subjugation in their own literature.
“To the back a white banner hung. Two interlocking pyramids on its front formed a hexagram, displaying an all-seeing eye in its center surrounded by seven small stars. In each corner of the hexagram were signs of the zodiac, with a sun disc placed at its left and a full moon on its right. The odd assemblage was encircled entirely by a fiery serpent devouring its tail. Beneath sat a gold scimitar above a down-turned crescent that ended in fine points.”
While the reader is not yet aware, this symbol is the Seal of Sulayman, seemingly combining several artistic interpretations over the years into one. The key feature is the Star of David, a symbol of the Jewish faith. It also contains concepts added in medieval works on the subject, as well as some seemingly unrelated images like the ouroboros.
“Fatma arched an eyebrow. ‘They’re not too fond of alchemy in America.’
‘The mission is in New York—Harlem. Worked with immigrants in Brooklyn too—Roma, Sicilians, Jews. All people suspected of bringing in ‘foreign customs.’’ She wrinkled a bold nose in distaste.
No need to explain. America’s anti-magic edicts were infamous.“
In line with the theme The Power of Faith, Hadia’s passion for social justice is interwoven with her faith. She later notes, regarding her experiences observing racism in the United States, that “[q]uoting scripture came in handy to fight against it” (120). This passage sets up Hadia’s character as someone righteous who is willing to back her beliefs up with action.
“The arrival of djinn and magic pouring back into the world had impacted people’s faiths in strange ways. It was inevitable a few would go seeking Egypt’s oldest religions, whose memory was etched into the very landscape.”
Fatma here is reflecting on idolators, who she does regard as somewhat strange. She and Siti struggle with this difference between them. However, Fatma “wasn’t intolerant” (62), so when Hadia follows up in this conversation with the suggestion that idolators could be to be to blame for the murders, Fatma reacts coldly. She has little patience for speculation without evidence because she grasps the risk of indulging it. Later, Fatma similarly chooses not to reveal that the impostor can manipulate djinn, as she fears that may lead to retaliation against innocent djinn.
“‘I was certain there was some nefarious plan, when he called on the heads of the temples.’ Her hand tapped the Hermit card. ‘Yet all I saw was an earnest man seeking a higher purpose. He truly believed himself on a holy quest. That the secrets of al-Jahiz would bring peace to the world.
‘Our great and noble English savior,’ Siti remarked wryly.”
Lord Worthington’s genuine wish for world peace may seem noble on the surface. However, he ultimately used his profound wealth and social privilege to guard his own power and perpetuate the subjugation of others. He rarely allowed women into his secret society. He hoarded the relics of al-Jahiz. Like the more overt racial supremacists in the novel, he centered himself, prioritizing his ego over the work of truly empowering others, which Siti recognizes.
“She spared an upward glance, where giant iron gears and orbs spun beneath the glass dome, like some clockwork orrery. It was, in fact, the building’s brain: mechanical ingenuity forged by djinn […] In her head, her mother’s voice came on cue: Time is made of gold.“
Here, one of the first mentions of clockwork, Clark states outright the value of time. This quotation also points out the djinn engineers who built it, suggesting that partnership with the djinn is what started time to move in Egypt.
“‘If the Ministry wants more women recruits,’ Fatma said, ‘then it should work on recruiting more women. The more the better.’”
Concerned with social justice, Clark draws attention to the fact that problems often have simple solutions. If the Ministry wanted more women, recruiting them would be a simple task. Therefore, the only explanation is that the Ministry doesn’t actually want more women.
“People treat you different in the suit.”
Fatma, one of only a handful of women in the Ministry, dresses in men’s clothing. Here, Clark draws attention to a possible reason for her choice other than a quirky fashion sense; dressing as a man likely garners more respect in a male-dominated workplace.
“‘I have come to find my people lost,’ he rumbled. ‘Cairo has become a place of decadence, where wealth is hoarded, while many are left in destitution. Where is the rich man who gives alms? Where is the physician to heal? Where is the promise modernity offered?”
The al-Jahiz impostor gives a speech that would resound with many people who recognize economic inequality as a major societal problem. By drawing attention to truths and appealing to their anger, it becomes easier to slip in lies and personal agenda into her message.
“‘People define him how they want.’ Hadia caught on. ‘So an impostor…’
‘…never has to get specific,’ Fatma finished. ‘That crowd last night. They saw al-Jahiz in that man in the gold mask. Never mind if they all had different ideas of who he was. Al-Jahiz is so wrapped up in myth and rumor, he can be whoever they want him to be.’
‘That’s dangerous.’”
Folk heroes often become distorted over time, and messages become diluted. Oftentimes people use them to express messages far in opposition to the historical figure’s original intention. Vagueness allows people to find their own messages, and because they have a tendency toward confirmation bias, this usually results in people justifying their own current beliefs rather than considering new ones.
“When I was in America, everything was about color. Where you could eat. Where you had to ride. Where you could live or sleep. When I got back to Egypt, I couldn’t believe I’d not noticed it before. With my friends, my family. In the Alexandria EFS, none of the officers were darker than me. At our protests, Nubian and Soudanese women marched in the back.”
Hadia describes an effect many people who spend time living abroad experience. Noticing differences in culture and learning to understand people from different backgrounds not only has a tendency to increase empathy, but also to draw attention to previously unrecognized things in one’s own culture.
“‘The will of the state.’ The impostor’s voice came from the rooftop in mockery. ‘Do you see now of what I speak? Where are Cairo’s authorities when you are sick? Or need clean water? Or the price off food goes high? They cannot be bothered. But now, to protect these scheming foreigners, they will send an entire army of police. And against who? The poor and downtrodden. Invading your homes and dwellings.”
For all her selfishness and militaristic aspirations, Abigail sees a legitimate problem that many—in both fiction and non-fiction—will immediately find familiar. The problems faced by the slums need government attention, but don’t receive it. The only problem with riling up these people is that Abigail has no intention of helping either.
“‘It is an amazing thing, how words can so move men.’ Fatma pulled up short, stopping Hadia.
‘Charlatans have a way of twisting people’s heads,’ she retorted.”
Clark’s mention of charlatans evokes the disingenuous feel of American politics, especially during the Trump era. Facades, contradiction, and “alternative facts,” could sit out in the open, and the impossible promises of political leaders still appealed to many voters.
“‘But you weren’t a member of his organization?’
Abigail let out a light laugh. ‘Heavens no. My father didn’t take the term ‘Brotherhood’ lightly.’”
This passage serves a dual-purpose. First, it shows Abigail has cause to be angry at her father: exclusion from his club because of her gender. It also brings themes of racism and colonialism in contact with misogyny. If she has any sympathetic aspects, her disadvantage as a woman in a patriarchal world can explain some of her behavior.
“In the industrial world everyone needed a watch, if only to keep up with airship and railway schedules.”
In a book full of angels, djinn, and magic rings, the post-industrial aspects of steampunk can easily be overlooked. Clocks make several appearances in the novel, and in this passage they remind readers of the hectic lives caused by industry, a phenomenon that didn’t exist quite as intensely before factory life and shift work.
“Usually the secrets we keep deep down, ain’t meant to hurt other people,’ he said. ‘Not saying they won’t, but not through intentions. Those deep secrets, we hide away because we’re afraid what other people might think. How they might judge us, if they knew. And nobody’s judgment we scared of more than the one we give our hearts to.’”
This passage elaborates on the theme of illusion, filling out motivations and justifications given by average people for deception. Deception, though considered an evil, is often practiced through necessity for social reasons. Speaking perfectly honestly at all times would likely cause a great deal of unnecessary social conflict, and oftentimes people subconsciously recognize the need to keep things buried.
“‘How do you keep it up? Pretending to be one person? Knowing you have to hide what you are?’ Both men shrugged. ‘We already know who we are,’ one answered. ‘We all do what we must do,’ the other said. ‘The first lesson we learned in Cairo.’”
The perspective of the doorman—revealed to be twin doormen—offers a counterpoint to the evils of illusion seen previously in the book, as well as a self-assured sense of identity. Both of these, at this moment, relate strongly to Siti’s conflict with Fatma, but it also casts Abigail in a specific light; her specific actions should be held as evil, not the power she wields or her identity as an English woman.
“‘Illusion magic often works by creating a mass shared delusion,’ the doctor explained. ‘Some people in a crowd see a man in a gold mask. Then, like a contagion, they spread the deception to others. Soon, everyone sees a gold mask.’”
The irony of this statement is that the doctor describes an effect that is not magical at all but one seen often in non-fictional movements. That Abigail’s technique is described as magic indicates the immense power that shared delusion and false information can cause in the public.
“I worked hard to counteract that bias. I became the most dignified of djinn. I carried myself with grace. So that none could cast aspersions on my lineage. All of that taken from me now—at last reduced to the half-civilized daeva prone to murderous rage…It is a terrible thing, this politics of being perceived as respectable. To be forced to view your frailties through the eyes of others.”
This line, perhaps, contains some personal feelings of P. Djeli Clark, himself working an academic job as a Black man in a society built on racism. The behavior of individual minorities often carries a weight of being representative of their demographic as a whole. This effect is included in Peggy McIntosh’s explanation of white privilege from her essay, “Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack.”
“‘Amazing what a well-placed word here or there can do to sow confusion,’ Abigail said. ‘The trick is knowing what people want to hear. Maybe it’s an appeal to their fears, their prejudices, their hunger, the natural distrust between empires.’”
Abigail’s technique here could easily come from the playbooks of US politicians. Throughout the 2016 presidential campaign and through the subsequent administration, vague and/or contradictory explanations seemed to trigger confirmation bias in the voter base, with concepts of racism, economic woes, and party divisions at the forefront of criticisms.
“‘Why, thank you, agent,’ Abigail said sweetly. ‘That really means a lot to me. You know, I do think if not for all this unpleasantness between us, we could have been friends.’”
Though the we’re-not-so-different-you-and-I speech has become somewhat of a cliché, this line underscores the respect and admiration Abigail has given this woman she has known from the beginning to be her adversary. This reflects on earlier attempts to bond with the Arabic woman, suggesting there perhaps was a genuine intent behind it.
“‘How could I refuse the lady?’ the kaiser asked. ‘I am much like Siegfried.’”
Kaiser Wilhelm, much like Abigail, adopts the persona of a folk hero, and one who also is known for wielding magic rings. While at least he chose one from his own cultural tradition, the comparisons to the villain of the novel are clear, and readers are meant to connect one to the other.
“Ahmad shook his head. ‘Why do these colonizers always claim what isn’t theirs?’”
In response to Abigail demanding the ring as her right, Ahmad summarizes the major criticism of colonialism. Abigail, however, purchased the ring. While her claim to a stolen object is still tenuous, she regards the cultural heritage of the Middle East as no more than a financial transaction, showing the callous disregard for emotion, tradition, and sentimental value of the homelands they loot.
By P. Djèlí Clark
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Historical Fiction
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Mystery & Crime
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Power
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Science Fiction & Dystopian Fiction
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