Repression, Family, and Justice in The Queen's Bargain
Fans of fantasy and character development should both be satisfied by The Queen's Bargain.
This is not a review. See why.
Context
Anne Bishop’s Black Jewels series is set in a world filled with magical things—talking dogs, jewels that grant power, ghosts who walk among the living at night, and many humanoid characters who can fly. But the focus of The Queen’s Bargain (which is set in that world but can be read as a standalone) is not on such delightful worldbuilding—it’s on the interpersonal relationships and challenges of two powerful families within that world. Their society has a double caste system; the expectations, privileges, and responsibilities one has depend not only on how aristocratic one’s birth is, but also how dark one’s Jewels are (which corresponds to how magically powerful one is, though training is required to use one’s power). There’s a large amount of overlap between darker Jewels and higher social rank, but within an aristocratic family there can be a large variation in how dark each member’s Jewels are.
The story focuses on two families high up in both rankings; one is led by Prince Lucivar and the other by his brother Prince Daemon and his wife Queen Surreal. Daemon is the most magically powerful person in the region, with a Black Jewel and a natural facility for multiple kinds of magic that he’s honed over the years. With his strong magical abilities comes a powerful sexual allure (called his “sexual heat”), which the women around him sense. He tries to contain this, but begins to develop crushing headaches as a result. To add to his headaches, he learns that his daughter has recently developed an attitude problem, behaving arrogantly due to her family’s position and her rare Jewel.
Daemon’s brother Lucivar has a more important political position than Daemon but is a step down from him magically. Lucivar’s wife has employed a girl named Jillian. The girl falls for a young aristocrat named Dillon—only to discover that she is the latest in a long line of witches Dillon has charmed in a magically deceptive manner. Investigating the matter, Lucivar discovers a whole knot of manipulative behavior and corrupt nobles willing to cover the matter up. The brothers work together to solve both their personal and political problems—and do so admirably.
Key Ideas
Smothering parts of yourself has consequences
Caring for family requires different actions at different times
Two wrongs don’t make a right, but when judging the second wrongdoer, one should consider context
Smothering parts of yourself has consequences
Daemon’s key struggle, which puts serious strain on his relationship with his wife, is that his sexual heat has unexpectedly increased as a result of reaching middle age. Surreal finds it difficult to be around him and assumes he’s doing it on purpose, since he has a measure of control over his sexual heat. Daemon, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, does everything he can to smother the heat. But one cannot deny parts of one’s nature without consequences; as Daemon’s mother puts it, “He’d be more successful trying to hold back the sea at high tide. He could do it for a while, just like he could hold back his own nature for a while. But eventually he would have to yield to what he was. If he didn’t, he might damage parts of himself in ways that couldn’t be repaired” (73). Daemon begins to suffer that damage—beginning with splitting headaches that no medicine or potion can get rid of. In time, he learns that he has to let all aspects of his personality breathe and come out to play from time to time, and makes arrangements to do so in a way that will keep his wife and family comfortable.
There is a growing body of literature about the dangers of ignoring and suppressing parts of one’s personality. Psychologist Nathaniel Branden wrote two related books—The Disowned Self and Honoring the Self—about the danger of ignoring one’s psychology and how to deal with challenging parts constructively. However, there is a difference between acknowledging that you experience an emotion or have a tendency and accepting that emotion or tendency uncritically. Branden makes this distinction in his work; Bishop doesn’t make it in the novel. In her world, characters simply have the level of power and natural facilities toward certain types of magic that they have; a male has the level of sexual heat that he has, and nothing can change that. While we cannot expect the average novel to have the same level of precision as a psychological text, it is still important to notice when an author is working from a deterministic premise. We have free will, so certain lessons characters learn in a determinist world will therefore not be applicable to our own lives without a caveat or adjustment. In this case, the relevant caveat is that if a particular emotion or personality trait is destructive to our lives and healthy relationships, we should work to reduce or eliminate it by addressing the root causes or beliefs—that is, honestly, without repression.
Caring for family requires different actions at different times
Both of the important families in this book feature strong, touching bonds between family members. The children clearly respect and are comfortable with their parents, aunts, and uncles, and the parents clearly care deeply about their children, nieces, and nephews and want to raise them well. This comes through in many different scenes and ways. In response to his daughter’s attitude problem, Daemon makes clear to her that her magical power and social rank are not reasons to treat anyone else poorly. He then holds her to that standard going forward, and with a little testing and questioning, she comes to understand and accept it. Lucivar, though it’s difficult for him, learns when his teenage son needs space and when he needs comfort, and gives him each as appropriate. Both fathers and mothers are fiercely protective of their young and are willing to defend them when necessary—but also hold them accountable for their actions when they’ve done wrong. There are more examples, but the point is clear: Being a parent requires different kinds of caring for different children at different times. It’s not always easy, but it results in strong, loving bonds.
Two wrongs don’t make a right, but when judging the second wrongdoer, one should consider context
Lord Dillon was a young aristocrat training for a role in a queen’s court, which involves many specific rules and expectations. But if he had excelled in this, he could have won the hand of a woman higher in rank or wealth than he. He had been working diligently on his training—until he was ensnared by a lady who used a seduction spell to trick him into breaking the rules. In disgrace, he left town, only to be targeted by other aristocratic ladies with similar aims in multiple towns. Eventually, after his family disowns him, he learns the seduction spell himself and begins using it to blackmail other families. He moves to the remote town where Lucivar and his family live, and begins using the spell on Jillian. When Lucivar finds out, he’s furious.
Nevertheless, Lucivar is a just leader, and knows the importance of fully understanding a situation before handing down a sentence. He, Daemon, and Surreal thoroughly investigate every part of Dillon’s story. They learn that he had once been conscientious and generous, but had been targeted and manipulated with magic. Dillon takes responsibility for what he’s done, telling Daemon, “I’ve made bad choices. Other people’s actions may have spurred those choices, but I’m the one who made them” (419). Daemon and Lucivar conclude that Dillon made the wrong decision in learning and using the spell, but wrong had been done to him as well, and Lucivar sentences him lightly. Many have suffered injustice at some point in our lives. It doesn’t make it right for the victims to manipulate or lie to others, but it can constrain or influence their choices in a way that those judging them should consider.
A Note on Idealization
At first, I found this novel a bit hard to get into. When I thought about why, it didn’t initially make sense: It was because the men were too perfect. Lucivar and Daemon were both wealthy, powerful, attractive, attentive husbands, and involved fathers. Equally happy to change diapers and to defend their wives to the death, they seemed like the gender-swapped version of the “unrealistically perfect fantasy women written by a daydreaming male author” trope. But then the novel progressed, and I learned how nuanced each character was, what they’d gone through, what they struggled with, and so on. All the positive traits were still there, but the characters felt like people who had earned their stature in the eyes of their wives and the audience, rather than plastic trophy husbands on fake pedestals. I adore heroes in literature; they give us something to strive for and to admire. But to avoid being cardboard cutouts, they need a certain amount of fleshing out (which does not necessarily mean adding flaws). In this case, that nuance simply took some time to be developed.
The Vibe
Note: I’d like to include a few words in future articles on the tone/style of the book or series and the emotional experience of reading it. I’ll keep this brief, but a) I know some of my readers are using this Substack to decide whether they’d like to read the books I discuss, and I think this will be helpful in making that decision; and b) art is for feeling as well as for thinking about, and I want to capture both sides of the experience.
This novel felt like “junk food” initially; lots of reveling in fun fantasy concepts and positive relationships, with a content tone. Eventually, there was more conflict and discussion of past trauma and how characters had overcome it, which resulted in more intensity. Passions and tempers flared, and it felt vivid, yet still ethereal.
Side Notes
Despite the importance of Daemon’s “sexual heat” to the plot, the descriptions of sex are brief; not too graphic or detailed. The book app Fable categorizes it as a “closed door” romance.
This book is set in the world of other novels by Bishop (the Black Jewels novels). I haven’t read the other books in this series, and thus found it slightly confusing at the beginning. Once I caught on to the various titles and the names of the Jewels and how they work, it was easy enough to follow.
Conclusion
The Queen’s Bargain features two key characters going on important journeys (which affect those near and dear to them) in a delightful magical setting. Fans of fantasy and character development should both be satisfied by this novel.