In an ideal world, I’d use long journeys to finally read that second volume of Proust, catch up on some Herodotus, or focus on foreign-language exhibition catalogues. Instead, my brain cheerfully clocks out and I end up reading stuff like this. That isn’t to say C.S. Pacat’s trilogy is bad: on the contrary, it’s an engaging tale of political skulduggery and brooding romance. But I wasn’t going to own up to it until I saw a photo that Kerstin posted on Facebook, while lazing in the garden with her Kindle, and noticed that she was reading it too. At that point I decided that everyone’s entitled to a bit of froth once in a while, and thought I’d do a quick post on the trilogy – if only because, as Kerstin’s interest indicates, there’s more here for Dunnett readers than you might initially expect.
The three books are each relatively short and feel like separate parts of the same story, rather than distinct volumes: hence my decision to deal with them all together. Funnily enough, I read the first part immediately after Half a King and found myself in déjà vu territory of murdered kings, wicked relatives, and princes sold into slavery. But there the similarities end. Oh, that they do. While Abercrombie’s hero Yarvi ends up as a galley slave, Pacat’s Damianos of Akielos (known as Damen) has an even worse fate in store. Stripped of his identity, shackled and chained, this noble warrior is sent by his usurping half-brother Kastor as a gift to the prince of the enemy kingdom of Vere. The very prince whose brother Damen killed in battle some years earlier. The wretched situation does have two silver linings, though. First, the notoriously cruel and cold Prince Laurent of Vere hasn’t been told the identity of his new slave. Second, he shows absolutely no interest in treating Damen as the Veretians usually treat slaves.
This would be a good place to stress that you must know what you’re letting yourself in for. Had I not been assured that it gets better, I would have put the first book aside in the manner of a nervous maiden aunt. It is occasionally more explicit than I am comfortable with, and there are some unpleasant scenes which account for the scattering of 1-star reviews on Amazon. I’ve read reviews that say the first book feels more like fan-fiction than a novel and I can see what they mean. But persevere. Because, towards the end of the first part, something suddenly happens: the book clicks into gear; the interaction between Laurent and Damen becomes more nuanced; and we begin to see that both their fates are bound up with larger political machinations. For me, things became much more interesting once we were able to escape the decadent hothouse of Vere.
Let’s ignore for the moment that a predictable romantic tension develops between our two protagonists. What’s interesting is to see how they gradually become aware of the other’s complementary strengths. The trilogy hinges on the question of whether it’s best to trust a relative, assuming that blood-relation makes him loyal, or to trust an enemy who has proven himself honourable? The developing trust between master and servant becomes the focus of the second book, which was my firm favourite of the three. Prince’s Gambit shrugs off the dodginess of the first book, and avoids the angst of the third (taking refuge, when it has to, in smouldering eroticism). It’s an almost Dunnettesque tale of double-bluffing, villainous schemes, secret negotiations, ambushes and disguise, with a rooftop escape thrown in for good measure. Of course I enjoyed it.
Kerstin commented that Pacat has surely read the Lymond Chronicles and I agree. The blond hair and blue eyes could have been coincidence, but the languid, self-contained, sharp-tongued Laurent also has a familiar gift for politics: chess, if you like, on a grand scale, with an ability to foresee his opponent’s next move and to create wildly inventive blocks. He also initially seems like a complete swine. I didn’t always believe his blend of viciousness and vulnerability, but he’s one of the more interesting characters I’ve come across in fantasy novels this year, even if he sometimes does seem too good to be true. Fortunately, perhaps, there is no evident Dunnettesque parallel for Damen.* Yet Pacat’s Laurent seems to be a tribute rather than a derivation: he exists firmly within a world of his own, full of social and political complexities. Both Vere and Akielos have carefully-constructed cultures (French-sounding personal and place names in the former; ancient Greek flavours in the latter), with contrasting traditions and costume.
In some romance novels, you can tell that the plot is merely an obstacle on the way to the bedroom and fortunately that isn’t quite the case here. Nevertheless, the trilogy is increasingly highly-charged: nothing is as erotic as the discreet, the understated, a hint, like the flash of bare skin on the back of a geisha’s neck. And that’s where Pacat does do very well. As we come to know her characters better, a glance or a hesitation come to have immense power. She also takes the time to give her world a context: Once you’ve got past the sensationalist tendencies of the first book, it’s a good, character-driven read.
This was recommended to me automatically by Amazon, presumably because it’s of the same ilk as Sarah Monette’s Doctrine of Labyrinths series or her co-authored Companion to Wolves. If you’ve enjoyed those, I think it’s safe to say you’ll like this. Having said that, a few cunning plots don’t take away from the fact that the trilogy is essentially romantic fluff at heart. Interestingly, ratings on Amazon seem to be almost entirely split between five stars and one star, which is always the sign of a book worth reading to make up your own mind. It’s best summed up by a phrase coined by Heloise: ‘tasty, but not particularly nutritious’. But, now and then, there’s a time and place for that.
Next journey, Proust. I promise. *Uncrosses fingers*
Buy the first book in the trilogy
* I suppose if he had to be anyone, he’d be Jerott, but that’s a debate and a mental image we probably don’t want to get into.**
** Or do we?
10 thoughts on “The Captive Prince Trilogy (2012-14): C.S. Pacat”
Ha, don’t blame me for your trashy reading! 😀
I couldn’t help but think that Jerrott may well have been the inspiration behind Damen too. I suspect the “desire” to see Lymond and Jerrott “get it on” was what may well have started this – isn’t that usually what drives this kind of fan-fiction writing?
What saves it is that she actually (mostly) manages to make the characters her own, and creates a pretty satisfying plot around them (I didn’t see the Aimeric twist coming, for example, and some of the policital plotting and machinations were quite complex), and keeps the romance/erotic bits relatively restrained (well, compared to some of the other stuff in that vein that I’ve come across anyway. And – full disclosure – I’ve only read the first two, so it might still go downhill again, but knowing you, I can probably trust that it won’t get too bad or you would have mentioned it 😉 ).
What’s fun though is trying to spot all the Dunnett references, from the characters (both in their physical characteristics and their manners and actions), via a whole host of plot points right down to certain words and phrases that I strongly associate with Dunnett. Actually quite surprising that it does manage to stand on its own as much as it does. It’s to her credit that the story and writing work on their own terms.
And as I’ve mentioned in my own post on Facebook, it also reminded me at times at lot of the Thief books by Megan Whalen Turner (also a favourite among many Dunnett readers).
Thank you 😁 As I have said elsewhere, I wasn’t blaming you for making me read it, just for (unwittingly) making me admit to it! Interesting comment about the words and phrases. I shall have to flick through and see if anything strikes a chord with me. It seems as if you found many more similarities, at a more profound level, than I did – which I can only put down to your much better knowledge of Dunnett 😉
Now I don’t know about Megan Whalen Turner so that’s obviously something I have to look into at some point…
Well, if you are next on a trip that’s not quite long enough for tackling Proust or simply in need of another quick and not too deep read that’s more on the (deceptively) fluffy side, I can definitely recommend Megan Whalen Turner! Another very engaging and personable central character to meet there (who also reminds me a bit of Mildmay, to mention some other books I know you have read…). A word of warning though – you definitely need to read them in order, and not peek ahead, not even at blurbs or short descriptions, or you will invariably come across major spoilers that ruin quite a bit of the enjoyment of the books as they unfold… 🙂
OK, good to know. 🙂 I am a huge fan of Mildmay, as you may remember (he was the one thing that kept me reading that series, long after I lost patience with Felix). And I will not peek ahead at the rest of the Turner series. So the first one is The Thief, right? There seemed to be a number of books listed on Amazon and there was no series numbering given.
I really, really want to like Proust. I just lose heart if I see a sentence that runs on for longer than half a page. 😉 Perhaps now I have some experience of meandering Japanese fiction, where nothing really happens, I’ll be much better placed to tackle it. In fact I can’t see either of the volumes of Proust on my bookshelves just at the moment. I’ve obviously hidden them away somewhere where they aren’t going to make me feel guilty.
Hello. I sent this review as ammunition to my daughter to encourage (nag?) her to read Dunnett, because she enjoyed these books, and she replied with a screenshot of the author’s Twitter page saying that Dunnett is her favourite writer! So I imagine the inspiration is definitely there.
Ha ha – she’s been busted! You know, I’m not sure whether equating Laurent with Lymond is going to make me more or less likely to reread these books… *Laughs* And I do hope your daughter will be persuaded to give Dunnett a go, even if the emphasis there is somewhat… um… different. 😉
Yes, The Thief is the first, followed by The Queen of Attolia, then The King of Attolia (that’s the one that in structure reminded me most of Captive Prince) and A Conspiracy of Kings. There’s a new one out, but I haven’t read that one yet.
I have to admit I never got any further into Proust than about a third of the first book. Just felt like too much of a slog, with nothing interesting happening. 🙂 But then I was in my early 20s when I last tried. Maybe I’ll have more patience for them now that I’m older.
That makes me feel better, really it does. OK, thanks for the running order of the Thief books. I will order a copy of the first one as a treat next payday!
Enjoyable review, thank you, which perfectly sums up my own initial hesitation/embarrassment and then enjoyment of the trilogy. My thanks also to Kerstin – she got me reading it too! I’m just about to finish the series and have found it very much better than I’d expected. I was sorely in need of something light and relatively undemanding when I started it, and I’m actually impressed with C S Pacat’s writing ability (though not with her editor, who allowed “pouring over maps” and “sewing seeds” to slip through). I’ve fairly rattled through it! It has certainly made a refreshing change.
Oh goodness, Janet, the thought of you reading it has made me blush all over again! Seriously though, I’m glad you agree that it’s more than the sum of its parts and that you enjoyed it. I think I warmed to it when I felt that I knew the characters well enough to actually care about them, as opposed to the ‘oh my goodness’ moments of the first book, where I didn’t yet feel comfortable enough in that world to just run with it. I have to admit that I still think of the characters with fondness and I may even have to go back and reread it at some point 😉