Review of DAUGHTER OF EGYPT by Marie Benedict (New Release)

 3 Stars

This feminist historical fiction focuses on two ambitious women defying expectations.

There are two storylines. One begins in 1486 BC and focuses on Hatshepsut, one of Egypt’s few female pharaohs, and her rise to power. The other timeline is post-World War I; Lady Evelyn (Eve) Herbert, the daughter of Lord Carnarvon, wants to join her father and Howard Carter, the famous Egyptologist, on their digs in the Valley of the Kings. She is determined to find Hatshepsut’s tomb.

I did not find this book a compelling or engaging read. The pace is slow and there is not much tension; often not much happens. Perhaps my knowing what was discovered in the Valley of the Kings in 1922 meant there was little suspense for me. Attention is often given to unnecessary details. For instance, do we really need to know that a rare skin oil is applied from an alabaster jar found on a marble dressing table before Hatshepsut is dressed in a pure white linen gown and adorned with an ornate gold diadem and a gold and carnelian collar or that she lies back on a crimson, emerald, and gold wooden chaise? There’s needless repetition; in case readers forget, they are reminded that Luxor was once called Thebes, that Eve prefers her mother as a self-sacrificing nurse, and that there were attempts to erase Hatshepsut from history.

There are information dumps about Egyptian history: the Ottoman Empire, the British occupation, and Egyptian nationalism. In historical fiction, there is always the necessity to provide historical information to help the reader understand events, but the use of dialogue to do so makes conversations anything but natural. For example, Hatshepsut says, “’Could it be the royal branch of the family stemming from my father’s predecessor, Amenhotep? . . . Amenhotep died without an heir; that is, of course, how my father became pharaoh. . . . Or perhaps the threat originated from relatives of Pharaohs Kamose or Taa the Second who preceded Pharaoh Ahmose, Amenhotep’s father.’” This explanation is hardly necessary in a conversation with someone very familiar with pharaonic history so the exchange just sounds awkward and clunky.

Sometimes the reader is almost insulted because the author insists on pointing out what is patently obvious. For example, Eve overhears Englishwomen wondering why, after years of British presence, Egyptian women haven’t adopted British practices. Eve comments that the women are provincial and ignorant as if that is not clear. It is not necessary to tell what has already been shown.

Some scenes feel very contrived and unbelievable. Eve is invited by Mrs. Seton, whom she has just met, to join her in a very sensitive meeting with Madame Zaghloul. Given the circumstances at the time, this invitation is highly improbable. The explanation for the invitation is that Mrs. Seton is doing it for all women who seek understanding and connection and who step outside societal expectations to do so. This just feels like an artificial attempt to exaggerate Eve’s accomplishments.

Eve is not an especially likeable character. Her obsession is finding Hatshepsut’s tomb and she thinks everyone should help her in her search. She becomes petulant if her plans are thwarted. Sometimes she is so naive. For instance, it never occurs to her that there is a limit to her father’s fortune or that he and Howard Carter are basically looting graves and keeping treasures that don’t really belong to them? She is an amateur archaeologist but she thinks very highly of herself. She disagrees with her father, thinks she gives an acquaintance something to reflect on that he hadn’t ever contemplated, and believes she can bring insights to the understanding of Hatshepsut that academics do not possess. She even claims to be the last hope if Hatshepsut’s tomb is every to be unearthed and she owes it “to the generations of women before and after.”? Her attitude of superiority is grating. And then there’s the hypocrisy of being outraged at the criminality surrounding her father’s collection but then agreeing to break many rules and to follow the spirit, not the letter, of the law.

I did not find Hatshepsut’s story convincing. Her sections feel like cursory snapshots. There are huge gaps in the timeline and, though we are told of her accomplishments, we are not shown how she achieved them. There is little depth to her character; at times she just comes across as a power-hungry opportunist. She tells the people that she has been instructed by the god Amun to be pharaoh so who can contradict her? She does whatever is necessary to convince her people of the righteousness of her reign, even using the equivalent of the Christian Annunciation by claiming that the god Amun impregnated her mother and told her father that his daughter would be both human and divine. The explanation for Hatshepsut’s erasure from history is not historically accurate, not in keeping with expert opinion, and I found the author’s version to be weak.

I enjoy fiction with strong female characters, but I don’t find the two women in this novel admirable. Both possess an attitude of superiority that is off-putting. And they both easily adopt facades, both even alluding to changing roles for public perception, so there’s an aura of manipulation around them. I knew virtually nothing about Eve and Hatshepsut so I did learn about women largely forgotten by history, and I did like the book’s examination of the partage system in Egypt.

I did not find reading this book to be an immersive experience since it relies on trivial details and lacks emotional depth. I’m certain the book will appeal to many readers, but personally I found it tedious and easy to put down.

Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.