I admit, I read this book primarily because of the author's name.
This is a story about a 'ghul hunter' that chases after these necromancer type guys who raise undead monster dudes that can kill a whole bunch of people. It's set in an Arab inspired fantasy universe, with a Khalif and Dervishes and a religion that's basically just Islam paraphrased. The characters have names like Abdoulla and Raseed. They all wear turbans and kaftans and live in a big desert.
So to the best of my knowledge this is the first Muslim writer to write Muslim fantasy in the English language. A book that's pretty much unprecedented in the western scene. Its very publication, given the climate of anti-Muslim hatred that has been prevalent over the last decade and a half, can thus be considered encouraging. The fact that a story about Muslims was nominated for and even won some fantasy awards on top of that is certainly pleasant news as well.
Which is why it's a crying shame that said story isn't actually any good.
I respect what Mr. Ahmed tried to do in this book. I've certainly thought of ways that Middle Eastern lore can be brought into fantasy literature. Certainly there's a lot there to tap and Mr. Ahmed certainly creates a world that draws upon medieval Baghdad or Cairo, with crowded markets, asshole guards and hypocritical Khalifs.
But the problem is that the guy doesn't have the talent to equal his idea.
One of the main characters in this novel is a young man called Raseed, who is a dervish of a holy order. Raseed's a master of the sword and goes on and on about holy stuff, but (GASP!) at the same time struggles with his impure lusts towards the sexy tribeswoman in his party. A fair chunk of the book is dedicated to him going back and forth about that and getting embarrassed when people catch him gawking at her.
That's a character we've all met before. All the guy did was change the word 'Paladin' to 'Dervish' and called it a day. Apparently author felt that taking a tired fantasy trope and putting it through a Middle Eastern lens is enough to make a protagonist. And that's not fucking good enough. That's shit tier writing and this guy should know that.
The bulk of the plot itself reads like an extended shopping trip. "We need item x to heal y, then we need to get scroll z to..." Ugh. It's like someone decided that an MMO fetch quest was the most riveting tale of heroism ever and decided to dedicate half his book to it. There are singularly out of place fights with street thugs that feel like they were thrown in either because an editor felt the main plot was getting too damn bland or because the author decided RANDOM ENCOUNTERS were storytelling gold.
The writing itself got painful at times. The author would have sections of the book with such blatant telling over showing ("The Khalif's son? I've heard he's a nice kid, not like his cruel father!!!") that I couldn't help but shake my head. Amateur stuff, man. It made it feel like something a dungeon master was writing, not a proper author.
In his dialogue, Ahmed has his guys say 'Almighty God!' and 'In the name of the most merciful' every other sentence, apparently trying to simulate the way certain Muslims at the mosque will say 'InshAllah' every other line. This would be okay if it were limited to a few characters, but EVERYONE IN THE BOOK besides one guy has this habit of speech, which bogs down dialogue needlessly and breaks the entire flow of the conversations.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad there's a Muslim out there trying to write this sort of thing. But ultimately, this book serves to underline the importance of basics. It doesn't matter how rich your source material is when your writing doesn't have legs to stand on.
So go get better at your job, Saladin Ahmed. I'll be watching you. There's more ...
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