Jurjen
“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.
“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.
