A slightly more philosophical entry in the Destroyer series, pondering the ways in which change and time can protect a culture vs distort it. The literary fiction version of this would be a riskier gambit, pitting the antagonist Actatl and their ideas about heritage against Chiun's traditions of Sinanju, but the philosophy in this version doesn't go nearly that deep. Instead the Actatl are merely a secret society of sorts who really don't know who they are messing with.

There are the standard significant issues when it comes to treatment and descriptions of women.

The action is briefly rollicking at the end; bringing in Smith as a potential combatant means there are stakes that the default indestructability of Remo and Chiun usually undermine. I'm don't think it's the best Destroyer book I've read, but I'm also not sure it isn't. ( )

4/5/22

His name was Remo, and he was disbelieving his ears.

This is one of the lighter entries in the Destroyer series, another one in which the major "threat" is silly or ludicrous in nature. From the opening chapter that sets up the origins of the mysterious Actatl tribe, saved from extinction by a king that rejected his culture's worship of the stone god Uctut, the concept is met with a healthy dose of ridicule that carries throughout the novel. CURE finds itself accidentally involved into the investigation of ritualistic murders (they cut out their hearts) perpetrated by the reclusive cult in retaliation for graffiti sprayed on the museum display of Uctut's statue, and so Chiun and Remo find themselves both chasing and being pursued by ineffective high priests half-naked in yellow feathered robes. There is little in this adventure that is not comic relief, including the newly crowned king of the Uctut, and the two women that become unwilling sidekicks to the CURE assassins, a mouthy museum assistant director, and the tennis-obsessed daughter (Chiun gives her some lessons) of one of the Uctut's murder victims. If there's any real moral or lesson from King's Curse, it's that ancient religions are silly, especially when they involve killing people in Big Bird costumes and worshiping rocks.

While the Destroyer can't really be considered a satire of men's adventure novels, the series does play with some of the more common conventions of the genre. One of these is the dismissive attitude towards the overt sexuality on display. From James Bond on down, one common factor in nearly all men's adventure series is the propensity of the leading male hero to sleep with as many attractive women as possible, be they victims, villains, or accomplices. As is set up early in the Destroyer series, however, Remo's rigorous training and mastery of advanced sexual techniques has greatly diminished his sex drive and attraction towards (most) women. So while he does occasionally fall for women or engage them sexually to gain leverage, he mostly avoids the sex-driven male hero stereotype, ignoring or actively avoiding the numerous buxom beauties constantly throwing themselves at him; not due to morality or ethics, but out of boredom. King's Curse is a perfect example of this, as Chiun and Remo are accompanied throughout the majority of the novel by two attractive women, and Remo spends most of his time insulting them, tying them up, gagging them, and even locking them in closets. ( )