lisa_setepenre's review
3.0
There's plenty to discuss about this book. On the whole, it's an improvement on Her Majesty, The King. I wasn't discomfited by O'Neill's take on Thutmose II here because his involvement was limited to vague references to the events of the past book. But, some of the niggles I had about the first book become more obvious and irritating here.
Most pointedly, I finished The Horus Throne realising I didn't care about Hatshepsut or Senenmut or any of the characters. They don't come alive for me. They're just so bland. Both Hatshepsut and Senenmut are both characterised as "can do everything, rarely do anything wrong" characters that I'm tempted to just slap a Mary Sue and Gary Stu label on them. Of course, their Sue-ness is more cleverly worked in than some other books, but it gets to the point when you're reading for the nth time that Hatshepsut being doubted only to be proved right.
Or when one character says that Hatshepsut handles a chariot better her father, Thutmose I. Thutmose I was a renowned military leader so... no. Just, no.
The villains are cast from the same mould: they're fat, they're ugly, their whole rationale is that "oh noes, a woman on the throne! D:", and are usually bisexual, homosexual or (in one case) paedophiles. The only discrepancy is the surprise ! villain,.
I should also point out that Her Majesty, The King left me more interested in learning about the real Thutmose II and attempting to imagine how he would have felt about Hatshepsut and his short life. This was due entirely to O'Neill's rank take on him – which kept bringing to mind this blog post about writing historical fiction.
The writing was still, on the whole, good. The dialogue continued to be a bit modern, and there were sections that seemed to border on confusing. Take, for instance this, remember that the story is told from the first person POV of Hatshepsut:
How did she KNOW exactly what he was going to say? Did he tell her later? Can she read his mind?
I also got tired by the "cutesy" and childish dialogue of Neferure.
I'm still completely bewildered how Hatshepsut becomes king straight after Thutmose II's death, while in reality, she waited until Year 7 of Thutmose III's reign to make that move. I'm yet to find O'Neill's reasoning for this detailed anywhere. Thutmose III, by the way, is actually present in this novel, though his most memorable action so far is piddling in his father's temple as a babe-in-arms.
The Postscript tries to explain that Hatshepsut wasn't a usurper was it would be "impossible" for someone to usurp the Horus Throne. I would be very, very hesitant to make such a claim, even factoring in the concept of the "Royal Ka" that O'Neill uses to justify her argument. There are accounts of (attempted) usurpations throughout Egypt's history – look at how the reigns of Teti (Old Kingdom) and Ramesses III (New Kingdom) ended, not to mention the theories about the post-Tutankhamun 18th dynasty mess.
In short, a decently written tome on Hatshepsut, with dull and questionable characterisations and some confusing history.
Most pointedly, I finished The Horus Throne realising I didn't care about Hatshepsut or Senenmut or any of the characters. They don't come alive for me. They're just so bland. Both Hatshepsut and Senenmut are both characterised as "can do everything, rarely do anything wrong" characters that I'm tempted to just slap a Mary Sue and Gary Stu label on them. Of course, their Sue-ness is more cleverly worked in than some other books, but it gets to the point when you're reading for the nth time that Hatshepsut being doubted only to be proved right.
Or when one character says that Hatshepsut handles a chariot better her father, Thutmose I. Thutmose I was a renowned military leader so... no. Just, no.
The villains are cast from the same mould: they're fat, they're ugly, their whole rationale is that "oh noes, a woman on the throne! D:", and are usually bisexual, homosexual or (in one case) paedophiles. The only discrepancy is the surprise ! villain,
Spoiler
Sopdu, who is a caricature of a gay man, which I grew very uncomfortable with. Also, his villainy doesn't make any sense – if he hates Hatshepsut so much and isn't shy of murder, why didn't he just stick in a knife in her when he was alone with her in so many situations?I should also point out that Her Majesty, The King left me more interested in learning about the real Thutmose II and attempting to imagine how he would have felt about Hatshepsut and his short life. This was due entirely to O'Neill's rank take on him – which kept bringing to mind this blog post about writing historical fiction.
The writing was still, on the whole, good. The dialogue continued to be a bit modern, and there were sections that seemed to border on confusing. Take, for instance this, remember that the story is told from the first person POV of Hatshepsut:
He wanted to added, 'just like the king', but he swallowed his words.
How did she KNOW exactly what he was going to say? Did he tell her later? Can she read his mind?
I also got tired by the "cutesy" and childish dialogue of Neferure.
I'm still completely bewildered how Hatshepsut becomes king straight after Thutmose II's death, while in reality, she waited until Year 7 of Thutmose III's reign to make that move. I'm yet to find O'Neill's reasoning for this detailed anywhere. Thutmose III, by the way, is actually present in this novel, though his most memorable action so far is piddling in his father's temple as a babe-in-arms.
The Postscript tries to explain that Hatshepsut wasn't a usurper was it would be "impossible" for someone to usurp the Horus Throne. I would be very, very hesitant to make such a claim, even factoring in the concept of the "Royal Ka" that O'Neill uses to justify her argument. There are accounts of (attempted) usurpations throughout Egypt's history – look at how the reigns of Teti (Old Kingdom) and Ramesses III (New Kingdom) ended, not to mention the theories about the post-Tutankhamun 18th dynasty mess.
In short, a decently written tome on Hatshepsut, with dull and questionable characterisations and some confusing history.
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