Before starting this book, I had been thinking to myself how long it has been since I’d got so engrossed in the action of a story that I just wanted to keep going at the end of each chapter, and not stop to analyse it. Then, I met Amina al-Sirafi and I was immediately transported to her shack in the mountains of 12th Century Salalah, then aboard the Marawati feeling the sea breeze on my face as it rocked over the waves of the Indian Ocean.

Similarly to the Daevabad series, I loved the rich detail and atmosphere created by Shannon Chakraborty’s trademark masterful worldbuilding. It is undoubtedly my favourite element of her writing and the reason why I rushed to request an Advance Reader Copy of this book as soon as it became available. As I read it, I was once again left wondering how much time she must have spent on research! The book spans several regions: starting in what is now Oman on the east coast of the Arabian Peninsula, it moves down to Yemen and then across the Gulf of Aden to Mogadishu. The fact that this book is set at a time when cities like Mogadishu and Aden are centres of trade and civilisation rather than just associated with perpetual war and famine as they are now was a beautiful reminder of the cycles of civilisation and the rise and fall of nations; history is much longer than the last couple of hundred years! Chakraborty successfully does this all without entirely romanticising them too. Her choice of Socotra as the setting of the more fantastical elements of this book makes perfect sense and I was practically waiting for her to incorporate it as soon as I discovered the region where the story took place! I also enjoyed the insight into the life at sea at that time portrayed in this book; the small details of day-to-day life, the relationships between shipmates, the acute understanding of nature, especially the stars, as an essential skill, and more.

As the title suggests, this book is centred around Amina al-Sirafi, a retired pirate who is forced to return to her seafaring ways to save a missing woman and the world along the way! Knowing Chakraborty’s unreserved (but balanced as a Muslim writer) approach to the gritty aspects of human beings and life, I thought this type of character was perfect for her to write and she didn’t disappoint. She created a well-rounded, rough around the edges, sarcastically funny but deeply compassionate character who made perfect sense in her context as a woman leader in a male-dominated field after a long career tackling the challenges of life at sea. However, while Amina al-Sirafi has a very dominant personality, necessary for her position, Chakraborty doesn’t disparage women who live more traditional lives or have different personalities and indeed portrays them with tenderness and respect – where they deserved it, at least!

To talk about Chakraborty’s inclusion of Islam and Muslims is complicated, as is real life. She is Muslim and clearly wants it to be very present in this book in a positive, lived way, even more than her previous works, I feel. There are abundant references to du’a and praying and repentance and avoiding major sin. It is frustratingly rare to find the co-existence of deep flaws and heartfelt repentance in Muslim characters in modern Western literature, so seeing these characteristics in Amina was very exciting for me as this is exactly what I always hope for in the portrayal of complete and multi-faceted Muslim characters. Unfortunately, I was disappointed by her apparent condoning of same-sex relationships and her eagerness to change the pronouns used with a potentially transgender character, which do not represent the Islamic view of these issues, although I understand that Amina’s perspective may well be accurate for some in her position. The reference to “pronouns” also very quickly took me out of the historical setting that had been so carefully crafted. Surely there must be a way for Muslim writers to explore these questions in a way that is authentic to the characters and our Islamic faith. For now, I am still waiting for that book. This relatively minor plot point aside, I felt like Chakraborty had thought very carefully about how someone living Amina’s life might have practised Islam. In the afterword, Chakraborty mentions that her research showed a prevalence of “magic” and superstition in that time and place so that is accurate too. How do you balance accuracy and not condoning sin? In this case, Amina didn’t personally commit any of the sins mentioned above; she just didn’t stop others doing them. I suspect this was how Chakraborty decided to approach this challenge and through this preserve the authenticity of her characters’ real lives and experiences.

An additional dimension to Amina al-Sirafi’s character is her role as a mother. Although a book is ultimately up to the reader individually to interpret, sometimes it’s nice when the writer emphasises or guides you towards a certain aspect of the story that they would like you to notice. In the case of this book, that is certainly the case and the focus is on motherhood and the sacrifices that mothers make and the different ways they try to find a balance.

I must confess that fantasy is not one of my favourite genres, so it’s unlikely I enjoyed those parts of the story as much as other readers. However, compared to the Daevabad series, this book contained less fantastical scenes, so it wasn’t such an issue for me. Again like that series, though, my biggest discomfort, perhaps, was with the creative license used to mix fantasy with the story of Prophet Sulayman, peace be upon him, and the Queen of Saba (Sheba) as well as elements of the Unseen (Ghaib غيب), which I feel should be kept to what Allah has directly told us. In my opinion, delving into this and creating our own theories about it can lead to the blurring of the boundaries between fact and fiction in the mind of the reader. I also discussed this issue in my podcast episode about City of Brass, for those interested in exploring it further. I should also note that there are numerous instances of swearing and intimacy in this book, but I feel that Chakraborty navigates the latter delicately to avoid falling into gratuitousness.

To conclude, while I had some reservations about the book which somewhat disturbed my enjoyment of it, I generally found it an excellent work of literature and an exciting and captivating adventure! The quality of Chakraborty’s writing never disappoints and I love that she chooses to set her stories in the rich cultures of the Muslim world, encouraging Muslim (and non-Muslim) readers to perhaps explore the immense historical – and therefore contemporary – importance of these regions. Her characters are always very entertaining and the value of Chakraborty’s willingness to put in the work to portray complete, flawed Muslims should not be understated. Will I read the sequel? Although my taste does not incline me towards fantasy, I think it is very likely that I will jump at it when it comes out too, in sha Allah!