Her Majesty’s Royal Coven – by Juno Dawson

Her Majesty’s Royal Coven has been on my radar for a while, so when it was picked as a monthly read for Miss Nerily‘s book club, I was more than happy to join the coven. And yes, link’s in Italian. Actually I don’t know where my readers are from, or if I have any. Whatever, let’s talk about the book.

Synopsys

Twenty five years earlier, on the eve of the summer solstice, four teenage girls – Helena, Leonie, Niamh, and Elle – took the oath to join Her Majesty’s Royal Coven, a secret government department entirely composed by witches.

Now, decades and a covert civil war later, Helena has become the High Priestess of the organization, while her old friends have taken different paths: Elle is trying to live a normal life as a wife and mother, Niamh is working as a country vet, and Leonie has defected to start her own coven, Diaspora, catering to the needs of neglected minorities.

When a young and extraordinary powerful magic user is captured by HMRC, under circumstances that apparently mirror some doomsday prophecies, the four witches are called to action once again – albeit their choices are bound to diverge, since Helena is hell bent on preserving traditions, especially once the young captive is revealed to be a trans girl , while others are determined to do what’s right, even (or, well, especially) if it defies the status quo.

Analysis

Style – The story is told in third person limited, alternatively from the perspective of each main character. Crafting an especially stylish prose wasn’t likely the author’s main concern, however she did endow each character with a unique-enough voice – for instance, Helena’s chapters sound more formal than others, while Leonie’s have a more militant vocabulary, and all are dotted with pop-culture references that make the four feel rooted in their time and in their generational experience (what I mean is: if you’re a Millennial, brace yourself for some Spice Girls-induced flashback, that might be more or less pleasant depending on your personal background).

Plot Structure – The book opens on what looks like the prelude of your typical YA novel, however it immediately moves ahead twenty-five years to focus on how our characters are faring way into their adulthood. In doing so, it skips over a few very significant event (namely, the aforementioned war, with all its repercussions on the main characters) that are later revealed through memories and flashbacks.

The main plot is delivered through a good combination of gripping action and more personable moments, and, despite clearly hinting at larger challenges that are bound to happen (this is, indeed the first part of a trilogy), it leads to its own satisfying conclusion… or so I would have thought until the second-last chapter, where the author kills off one of the most sympathetic characters, resurrects a villain from the past, and generally stabs the reader in their heart, leaving them gasping, both in anticipation and fear of whatever is supposed to come next.

Setting – The story is set in our own world – except, magic exists and has its own covert bureaucracy and special forces. The novel provides some background on the origins of Her Majesty’s Royal Coven, that dates back to Anne Boleyn, as well as a sketch of its metaphysical world, featuring demons on one side, and on the other Gaia as a positive spiritual force.

The magical system in itself is nothing groundbreaking, but it has the merit of serving the story without getting in the way. Personally, I found the concept of “levels” a bit too gamey for my liking (I mean in the sense it reminds me of D&D, not that it tastes like venison, ok…); besides, I wasn’t enthused with the way magic appears to be gendered – a fact that’s indeed essential to the plot, but once it’s made clear that trans witches are unquestionably female witches and belong in the coven, I also hope there will be space to challenge binarism a bit more since we are at it.

For all its implications on the nature of the world at large, the story has a fairly limited scope, being highly focused on its protagonists and a handful of other characters, so much that we’re left to wonder if anyone else had played any significant role in the civil war they mention. Which is not necessarily a problem, especially as the book does a great job in keeping us invested in the characters’ destiny, however I certainly would enjoy to see some additional context in the future.

Characters – Our four protagonists aren’t all created equal: while all of them have a distinct personality, with their own strength, flaws, and agendas, only Niamh is built like a truly nuanced human being, whose drives can’t be boiled down to single shtick. No surprise, then, if she’s the one inside whose head we spend more time, as well as the sacrificial lion whom gets killed off at the end, for a more gut-wrenching cliffhanger.

Other characters are a closer development of a single core concept: Ellie is a suburban wife who values normalcy and keeping appearances, Helena is the ultimate definition of a girlboss, who surprises nobody when she turns up being evil , and Leonie, as a lesbian woman of colour and an activist, is the embodiment of intersectional feminism.

If Helena plays a very defined role in the story, and Ellie’s arc is clear enough while leaving space for more development, Leonie has both the more interesting plot hooks and the least satisfying execution: her activism, her background, as well as her interest and complex feelings towards non-Western magic, are all intriguing themes, that however at times seem to steer away from the main story. But, I am hopeful to see more of her in the next books!

Of all non-POV characters, the one we must mention is certainly Theo, a young witch who was however assigned male at birth. Theo’s role in the book is closer to that of a plot device, her gender identity being a core theme of book and a major reason for conflict between the character; what we see of Theo’s personality, anyway, is enough to make us care about this shining example of troubled youth, hoping she finds not just acceptance in the coven, but also her own agency in the story.

Themes – Her Majesty’s Royal Coven deals with a popular theme of recent fantasy, that is to say the reinterpretation of witches and witchcraft as icons of feminist empowerment.

And sure, it’s worth remembering that actual women who were persecuted and killed as witches were nothing but victims of slander and marginalisation, far from possessing not just arcane powers, but any power at all (for a more in-depth reflection on the matter, you can check this video by The Book Leo).

At the same time, there’s some undeniable charm in imagining those disenfranchised women of the past wielding actual magic, as well as passing their secrets down to their modern descendants: not only it turns the power imbalance upside down in a perfect escapist fashion, it reclaims a traditionally negative figure to make her the hero of her own story; and if the witches of folklore were necessarily evil because that was the role assigned to any form of non-submissive femininity, it’s easy to see how casting a different light on the same figure can work as empowering move.

But, enough on the general topic of feminist witches – this novel has in fact a slightly different focus, that is to say the acknowledgement that trans women are, indeed, women, and that those who deny that are up to no good. The message is not exactly subtle, and the references to current debates are plenty. I really didn’t mind it, however, and actually it made me more invested in the story, as I could easily compare the struggles of the characters to real-life societal battles.

At times, when the villain of the story seemed unreasonably evil and over the top, I was struck with the realisation that real-life people aren’t much different, and if, for instance, the TERFs of our world have no qualms buddying up with openly misogynistic neonazis, under the guise of defending women, I couldn’t really complain about Helena summoning demons, while telling herself she only did so to fight against infernal forces – and against trans women, ça va sans dire. Which made it, in hindsight, an especially effective piece of social commentary.

Overall Thoughts – So, while writing this review I ended up being more nitpicky than expected. This doesn’t change the fact that I immensely enjoyed reading this book, both because its ideals are close to my heart, and because its story is a real page-turner. I plan to read The Shadow Cabinet soon enough, even though I already know it’ll only leave me more restless until the final book is ready.