A review by berenikeasteria
Lady of the Reeds by Pauline Gedge

5.0

Of all Gedge’s novels, this is possibly the series where she changes the most, historically. This book, and the sequel, are based on the harem plot to murder Ramesses III (detailed in the Turin papyrus). Don't open the spoiler link if you don't want to known what happened historically versus what happens in the book.
SpoilerRecent re-examinations of Ramesses’ mummy have revealed that his throat was indeed cut. The perpetrators, Tiye, her teenaged son by the pharaoh, Pentaweres, and a whole host of administrative and bureaucratic officials, seemingly succeed in their plan to assassinate Ramesses, but not to put Pentaweres on the throne – the next pharaoh was Ramesses IV, another of Ramesses III’s sons – and were put on trial, executed, or ordered to take their own lives. In The Lady of the Reeds, also known as House of Dreams, Thu is a half-Libyan peasant girl plucked from her village life, where she chafes and dreams of achieving great things in life, and educated and trained to become one of Ramesses III’s concubines. Her star rises high, but plummets when she becomes pregnant and Ramesses cruelly casts her aside. In sheer desperation she plots with her sponsor, Hui, and his friends, to murder Ramesses, but the pharaoh survives and Thu is sentenced to die, abandoned by her so called friends, until by Ramesses’ mercy she is allowed to live and condemned to live out the rest of her life in squalid service to her home village’s local temple.


Generally speaking, I prefer my historical fiction to be as accurate as possible, but my primary concern is always whether or not a story is well-written, and Pauline Gedge always writes a darn good book. She’s one of those consistently good authors who I know is always going to provide me with an exceptional read. As per usual, Gedge’s sheer mastery over the English, her flair and inventive usage was delightful and a pleasure to read. Somehow Gedge always creates unexpected and surprising plot twists too, even though she writes historical fiction and I’m aware of the historical facts. Thu, Hui, and the other characters are perfectly formed – deep, subtle, complex characters revealed piece by piece through show rather than tell. And Gedge’s novels always feel authentic even when she changes details – or later research contradicts what she wrote – because she does her research, she recreates all the ambiguity and complexity of real life instead of glossing over and simplifying the story, and Gedge, more than any other author I’ve ever read, understands the zeitgeist of ancient Egypt and the way ancient Egyptians thought about themselves and the world.

Thu in particular is remarkably appealing – I wasn’t sure, before I started reading, if Gedge, much as I trust her consistent good work, could really write a book with someone who, historically, was a conspirator to murder, as the protagonist and make me empathise with her character. Well, she can. Thu aspires for a better life than the obvious path laid out for her and the circumstances she is born into. She has ambition to improve her lot and she wants more from life. When life’s luxuries are handed to her on a plate, like anyone who’s been through hardship, can we really blame her for seizing them and revelling in them? Who hasn’t dreamed of winning the lottery? Thu is incredibly human. She callously steps on others to achieve these dreams of a better life, and it’s reprehensible, but as a reader there’s a mixture of horror at what she does and identifying with her aspirations. Even Thu’s most reprehensible acts are driven by understandable emotions and the bad things that happen to her, and whilst most of us probably wouldn’t act as she does, I think the basic emotions of hurt, betrayal, and desperation are the same. Thu’s distress feels palpable. She aspires to universal dreams, and is betrayed by those she trusts and abandoned by those she loves. I didn’t quite root for her in the same way I did for Hatshepsut in Child of the Morning, Tiye in The Twelfth Transforming, Caradoc in The Eagle and the Raven, and Ahmose, Kamose, and Aahmes-Nefertari in Lords of the Two Lands, but I wanted her to succeed in creating a better life for herself, and I understood and sympathised with her. The story is definitely a tragedy, written in raw emotion.

Pauline Gedge definitely reigns supreme over ancient Egypt historical fiction. Endorsed by a bona fide Egyptologist :) .

10 out of 10