Throwback Thursday: The Black Jewels Trilogy Is a Fantasy Epic About Overcoming Trauma

Anne Bishop is kind of a fantasy hipster: the world-building in the Black Jewels is serious and dark—“this ain’t one of your momma’s books about castles and magic,” before that became the thing to do. Her books are roughly contemporaneous with George R.R. Martin’s, but are rarely mentioned in the same breath. They should be. In Daughter of the Blood, the first of the trilogy, Bishop makes clear a few major givens in fantasy aren’t going to be happening. First, she establishes a matriarchal world, one in which the sure sign that things are falling apart is that women are slipping from the seat of power. Second, our protagonists aren’t wearing white hats—in fact, it is those with the darkest colors hanging about them are the closest thing we get to heroes (case in point: one of the ancient “Guardians” of the world, charged with maintaining order and intervening in disastrous situations, is the High Lord of Hell himself, Saetan, pictured here as a compassionate, intelligent man whose day job scares the crap out of people). Finally, she offers us a cast of characters who usually only get to play victims in other stories (more on this in a minute).

The plot is full of darkness, but not necessarily darkness born of evil magic: in these lands, the ruling classes are slowly being overtaken by the creeping corruption of money, lust, power, and plain old small-minded intolerance. Torture and slavery are common, and women are falling out of their traditional roles of power as more and more of them are convinced by a powerful coterie of men that they were wrong all along—the patriarchy really is awesome, you guys. Bishop places points of light and sanity to lead us out of these encroaching shadows—Saetan, the Guardian; Daemon, a powerful prince chained to centuries of sexual slavery; Lucivar, his brother, an enslaved warrior with a strong survivor’s bond with Daemon and Jaenelle, a boundary-crossing, endlessly questioning girl who may or may not be the savior that they’ve all been waiting for. The trilogy follows this unusual band of brothers as they try to root out the corruption that plagues their society (including two of Saetan’s ex-wives and lovers, which makes the whole thing a vicious family affair) and restore balance, culminating in a grand, once-and-for-all confrontation that will keep your heart racing to the last page.

Plot specifics aside, the trilogy resonates because of its emotional content. As action-filled and nail-biting as it can be, Bishop makes the powerful choice to confine the most important battles to play out in her characters’ psyches and emotional landscapes. Besides hooking us into a near-constant emotional maelstrom, this choice serves a clear narrative purpose: this world’s magic is based around characters’ “psychic strength.” Those with magical Blood are assigned a jewel rank of raw power, but often their social rank (queen, prince, priest)—based on their charisma, intelligence, and leadership abilities—matters more. Which means if you were looking to corrupt and overtake this world, the most powerful means of doing so is through breaking down others’ spirits and minds, making them subservient or sending them wandering into madness in the bargain. Nearly every one of the main characters (and most of the supporting ones) are—or tragically become—survivors of sexual assault or violent trauma. (The latter part of the series is basically one giant trigger warning, so be warned.) The series’ always shifting, never certain atmosphere can in large part be traced to the emotional states of characters experiencing or in recovery from sometimes centuries-long trials. Instead of making them victims for some hero to save, Bishop makes these damaged characters into champions, leading to the trilogy’s most heartbreaking, memorable sequences, and driving most of the major climaxes. Their ability to overcome past trauma—or not—is the real challenge, its consequences both personal and political.

While suffering is a large part of who these characters are, Bishop never makes their status as victims the defining feature of their personalities, nor turns them into mere vessels for their painful pasts. In fact, she devotes significant effort to shining light on this dark universe, showing us why these people are worth rooting for. She doesn’t skimp on the childish wonder of magic, and she deploys downright Whendon-esque dialogue throughout— snappy banter and teasing are the primary method of communication between the protagonists. There are periodic hijinx, drunken adventures, a bunch of teen-girlish bonding moments, the healing and building of loving family relationships, and old-fashioned sibling squabbles. The supporting cast is full of fiercely loyal, intelligent, easy-to-root for friends who are often very funny, including a cast of magic-wielding animals who provide the comic relief (there’s an ongoing buddy comedy between a very social puppy and a 700-pound cat whose partnership is alternately hilarious and terrifying). And if my description made it sound like this is a series that is constantly down on sex, let me assure you that is not at all the case. Dark the sexuality may be, but there are also lots of positive sexy moments (and adorably giggly ones, too—Saetan reads romance novels. That’s all I’ll let on for now).
Finally, there’s the whole point of the thing. Ultimately, the story is a gut-punching presentation of one of fantasy’s most resonant themes: what makes for an ideal ruler. As the books go on, we see that the magic system and matriarchal society is really a structure supporting rule via a sort of “soft” power—persuasion, negotiation, mutual aid, friendship. Though the book conceptualizes this in a gendered, “female” way, that doesn’t mean weak. Hard power—martial force, and this universe’s equivalent of a WMD—is used on several occasions. The characters just prefer to avoid it for as long as possible. As almost everyone on both sides of the conflict has experienced trauma, the key turns out to be how you respond to it. Do you take it out on others, finding pleasure in causing others pain? Do you bury your head in the sand and not ask difficult questions about where power comes from? Do you stare it down, and still choose to rise above? Or, realistically, are you going to do all three at some point? This is a power that continuously recognizes our dark sides and worst impulses, and examines what it takes to truly overcome them.
I’ve read these books three times, and after writing this, there’s no way to avoid making it four. (I may have already started…) Every time, they make me laugh, gasp, and feel, as the pages turn faster and faster and faster…and then, all too quickly, run out. I’m not sure what more I could ask for.
What series do you read and reread?