Her romance with General Nahktmin is how I like my romance–organic, sweet, and low-key. I quite liked Mutny as a character, as she grows from a child to a woman capable of standing up to her sister and even Pharoah. If you did enjoy The Other Boleyn Girl, you’ll probably like Nefertiti, but they’re not the same thing at all. But I think that’s where the similarities end–Tudor England and Ancient Egypt are, naturally, quite different, and much of Nefertiti’s scheming involves destroying the power of Kiya, Amunhotep’s other wife, and playing on the love of the people. But I have to admit, that’s my favorite way to introduce an original character into the historical record–it keeps the character from being too important to not be a bigger of the historical record but also keeps them in the right circles to be able to tell these stories.

The Other Boleyn Girl and Nefertiti both use the same narrative “gimmick” a historically unknown but existing sister of the historical figure tells the story, a woman who dislikes court intrigue and only wants a quiet life with the man she loves, despite the machinations of her family. Tied to the court by her family and yearning for a quiet life with the general she loves, Mutny must find a way to stand up to the most powerful couple in Egypt–or forever live in submission. But Amunhotep is an unstable man who eschews war, including the defense of Egypt’s borders, and focuses with an unearthly passion on elevating the sun god Aten above the traditional gods of Egypt. When Nefertiti’s initial intended, Prince Thutmosis, dies mysteriously, Nefertiti is handpicked by Queen Tiye to marry his brother, Prince Amunhotep. Nieces of the Queen of Egypt, ambitious Nefertiti has felt destined to be Queen–and more–of Egypt, while Mutny would prefer a quiet life tending to her gardens as well as the sick. Nefertiti follows the titular character’s rise to power through the eyes of her sister, Mutnodjmet. Naturally, I checked it out as soon as my volunteer shift was over.

As I was shelving one afternoon at the library, I looked up at the next row of shelves over the books I was working on, and there it was. (Explains so much, doesn’t it?) Nefertiti has been on my reading list for quite some time–other book bloggers have enjoyed it, and it was even featured on the ads section of Feministing for a while (and they’re quite picky about their ads). What’s more perfect for my one hundredth book review than going back to Ancient Egypt? I think it’s no secret that I love Ancient Egypt–Egyptian mythology was, quite honestly, my first story.

Nefertiti moran