Jurjen

Just like book 1, I have my qualms, but overall, I enjoyed it a fair bit. The central hook of the story is the power progression, and Wight is able to do that in pretty creative and intriguing ways.

Throughout this book, I kept thinking of how anime it felt, for better and for worse. It's a medium I’m mixed about. The premise is usually held back by its execution. Perhaps it is a bit unfair to portray this series as such, as I'm aware Wight was developing his craft, but you can feel that the writing is a bit rough around the edges. The plot progression feels janky at times, and the characters other than the main ones feel a bit thin (eithan was fun though, i like that archetype), but that's to be expected from one of the earlier books of a self-publishing author.

P excited to see where this series is gonna go.

“The great events of an age appear, to those living through them, as backdrops only to the vastly more compelling dramas of their own lives, and how could it be otherwise? In this same way, many of the men and women there in the Hippodrome (and some who were not, but later claimed to have been) would cling to one private image or another of what transpired. They might be entirely different things, varying moments, for each of us has strings within the soul, and we are played upon in different ways, like instruments, and how could it be otherwise?”

I felt as Crispin did, his heart full, putting down that final stone of his mosaic, in starting the epilogue of this book. Reading Lord of Emperors, I think, is an experience unlike any other book I have ever read. It is a love-letter to art, but perhaps even more than that, one to beauty–Its fleeting nature, and sometimes how it can last.

The thesis of this book illustrated in the passage above was executed perfectly. The tragedy and beauty in the lives of these characters as they dance in and out of the events that would define the world, was an utterly compelling narrative.

The depth of dialogue, inner monologue, and characterisation is some of the best in fiction, and a stretch of a hundred pages in the middle of this book–triumph, tragedy and anxiety in equal parts–I could only compare to that stretch of pages at the end of a Storm of Swords.

My greatest criticism of Guy Gavriel Kay's writing in Tigana and Sailing to Sarantium is his approach to writing women. All of them are beautiful, desired, and likely in love with the main character. This book has made me reconsider that somewhat. Yes, all of these things are true, but part of that is GGK's almost fairytale-esque approach to writing all his characters that way, men too. But it's just not the same when you do that with your female characters, and their roles within society during this time period, I think.

That being said, Gisele, Alixana, Kasia, Shirin and Styliane had such depth, oozing with personality. I can't say anything other than that these were very well written characters. I think both my criticism and adoration can exist simultaneously.

There is a passage in this book, lamenting the death of a great figure in all its tragedy. The next paragraph reads:

“Somewhere in the world, just then, a longed-for child was born and somewhere a labourer died, leaving a farm grievously undermanned with the spring fields still to be ploughed and the crops all to be planted. A calamity beyond words.”

This is my tenth 10/10 book. It will stay with me for a long time.

This is now my second Guy Gavriel Kay book after having read (and liked) Tigana last year. I liked this book quite a lot, though I have my issues. 

The setting is fantastic. GGK has very clearly spent dozens of hours doing research into the Justinian period, and it really shows. I really enjoyed looking for historical parallels (especially in the prologue), but even when taken in isolation and not contrasted to history, it just feels very vivid and lived-in.

No surprise, Kay's prose is beautiful, and really adds to the storytelling.

Much like Tigana, the characters feel a bit overmuch–too clever, too beautiful, too “desired”, etc. With Tigana, this almost fit as it felt fairytale-esque to match the tone of the book. Sailing to Sarantium is more grounded, so that explanation doesn't work this time. It bothered me a bit.

The biggest problem with this book is the (limited) role that women play in this story. It seems that that's just endemic to his writing.

The ending of Tigana blew me away, and to my surprise, the final 25 pages of this book gave it a run for its money. Kay is able to write such tender sadness, and knows how to wrap things up emotionally. He masterfully employs the English language to do so.