Know, all who see these lines, that this man was one of the miracles of the god
Guy Gavriel Kay is a cruel and fickle master. I just spent about an hour sobbing over the last 100 pages of his gorgeous novel, The Lions of Al-Rassan. I always feel so drained, overcome, awed when I finish one of his books. He is the TRUE master of surprise - I've never outguessed him. And this story was one of the most sweeping, intimate, and heartbreaking I've ever read.
RODRIGO AND AMMAR. ;______________;
Augh, I just had to get that out. More coherence now. Even though Jehane was arguably the emotional focal point of the novel, my heart reached out the most to Ammar and Rodrigo and their almost mystical bond, forged literally on first sight. The way Kay gracefully shapes the intense mutual respect that springs up between them, the almost supernatural way they fight side by side, the way ideas seem to slip from one mind to the other with no apparent barrier, and the simple way in which they accept this as simply a truth about who they are as people - well. It was a beautiful romance, and there's no getting around it. Sexual or not, these two men loved each other, recognizing in one another a generosity of spirit and a brightness of mind that they had never seen the match of until that day. It sounds so cheesy, but oh, it's not! Then you toss in Jehane and mix vigorously, and what emerges is a jumble of people who represent the best of three worlds, drawn to one another inexorably. It's a kind of obvious humanization of the divisions in the peninsula (Jaddite/Christian, Asharite/Muslim, Kindath/Jewish), brought down to the microcosm of three people who find common ground in their humanity, but Kay never makes it feel trite or obvious. They are so fully rendered as people, in addition to so many around them, that they feel like best friends that I never knew I was missing.
And the inevitable, painful truth that has to come out of this union is that it cannot last. I cannot describe the pain I felt when Jehane and Miranda watched Rodrigo and Ammar fight on the battlefield far below. It was the sundering of a bond that had overcome all obstacles, only to be destroyed by the ugly human tendency towards war, fanaticism, hatred. I'm trying to successfully render my thoughts on how profoundly Kay moved me with this story - by on the one hand exploring and extolling the human spirit, the capacity to love, and on the other acknowledging the inevitable truth of what people do to one another. Violence and love, hopelessly intertwined.
And Ammar had to kill Rodrigo. I just. I am so drained, and sad. This is definitely the most dark ending of any of his books, but that comes necessarily from the historical period it reflects - beautiful and prosperous Moorish Spain, brutally conquered and erased by the invading Christians from the north and the fanatical Arabs from northern Africa. There's simply no way to forge a happy ending out of that, and the conclusion to the human drama is a necessary consequence of that.
The one thing that slightly confuses me about how Kay structured the book is this. Throughout, even though I knew they were brutal and violent and not really someone to root for, I found myself rather on the side of the Jaddites. This largely arose from the deep sympathy I felt for Rodrigo, the sympathetic nature of the central Jaddite King Ramiro, Rodrigo's family, and Alvar, all very important characters. On the other side of the equation, we have Ammar, who's wonderful, along with Husari and King Bashir, but also Almalik and Almalik II, both brutal rulers, and the Muwardi, whose vicious and uncompromising aid the Asharites seek. The main sympathetic characters from the Asharite part of the peninsula are Kindath (Jehane, her parents, Mazur) and they are hated by both the Asharites and the Jaddites. I suppose the balance works out in numbers of characters, but in terms of tone, I always felt the balance of my sympathy leaning towards Jaddite Valledo. However, in the historical narrative, Moorish Spain was cultured and forward-thinking, while the Christians basically wanted to kill people (typical). That's obviously a simplification, and I'm no expert, but it does seem that by making King Ramiro sympathetic, in particular, Kay shifted the balance in favor of the Jaddites. Perhaps this was to soften the blow when they ultimately triumphed? Or maybe it was just to show that no one people is ever entirely right, all beliefs have their fanatics and their violent extremists, just as they have their good and just people. Hmm.
Well, he's certainly made me think, and again he's made me almost rupture my ribs from sobbing. Completely unsurprising. I don't know why I let this last Kay novel slip by me for so many years (I think an offhand comment by a friend that it was his weakest work? LIES ALL LIES) but I'm kind of glad I did, because it meant I got the treat of a brand new Kay over my last long vacation for many years. (Eek.) And now I'm basically ruined for all other authors ever. :P
Now that I've completed Kay's whole repertoire (tiny though it is - curse your slow, careful writing!), I can rank his books in order of my preference.
Tigana is the only one of his books that I ever felt at all dissatisfied with. The ending is just too gratuitously painful, without any of the satisfaction that Lions gave. It denies meetings that feel necessary and brutally withholds closure for most of the central characters. I finished that book angry at Kay instead of worshiping. Other than that, the rest of his books are simply genius. I haven't read Last Light in a very long time, so I think that will be next on my re-read list. I know I've made this recommendation before, but seriously, if you love an intelligently-told story about fully-drawn characters and their parts in grand but not grandiose events on the world stage, you will love these books, I promise.
Now I need something else to read! A review of Lions mentioned a Scottish historical fiction writer named Dorothy Dunnett - has anyone read any of her stuff?
RODRIGO AND AMMAR. ;______________;
Augh, I just had to get that out. More coherence now. Even though Jehane was arguably the emotional focal point of the novel, my heart reached out the most to Ammar and Rodrigo and their almost mystical bond, forged literally on first sight. The way Kay gracefully shapes the intense mutual respect that springs up between them, the almost supernatural way they fight side by side, the way ideas seem to slip from one mind to the other with no apparent barrier, and the simple way in which they accept this as simply a truth about who they are as people - well. It was a beautiful romance, and there's no getting around it. Sexual or not, these two men loved each other, recognizing in one another a generosity of spirit and a brightness of mind that they had never seen the match of until that day. It sounds so cheesy, but oh, it's not! Then you toss in Jehane and mix vigorously, and what emerges is a jumble of people who represent the best of three worlds, drawn to one another inexorably. It's a kind of obvious humanization of the divisions in the peninsula (Jaddite/Christian, Asharite/Muslim, Kindath/Jewish), brought down to the microcosm of three people who find common ground in their humanity, but Kay never makes it feel trite or obvious. They are so fully rendered as people, in addition to so many around them, that they feel like best friends that I never knew I was missing.
And the inevitable, painful truth that has to come out of this union is that it cannot last. I cannot describe the pain I felt when Jehane and Miranda watched Rodrigo and Ammar fight on the battlefield far below. It was the sundering of a bond that had overcome all obstacles, only to be destroyed by the ugly human tendency towards war, fanaticism, hatred. I'm trying to successfully render my thoughts on how profoundly Kay moved me with this story - by on the one hand exploring and extolling the human spirit, the capacity to love, and on the other acknowledging the inevitable truth of what people do to one another. Violence and love, hopelessly intertwined.
And Ammar had to kill Rodrigo. I just. I am so drained, and sad. This is definitely the most dark ending of any of his books, but that comes necessarily from the historical period it reflects - beautiful and prosperous Moorish Spain, brutally conquered and erased by the invading Christians from the north and the fanatical Arabs from northern Africa. There's simply no way to forge a happy ending out of that, and the conclusion to the human drama is a necessary consequence of that.
The one thing that slightly confuses me about how Kay structured the book is this. Throughout, even though I knew they were brutal and violent and not really someone to root for, I found myself rather on the side of the Jaddites. This largely arose from the deep sympathy I felt for Rodrigo, the sympathetic nature of the central Jaddite King Ramiro, Rodrigo's family, and Alvar, all very important characters. On the other side of the equation, we have Ammar, who's wonderful, along with Husari and King Bashir, but also Almalik and Almalik II, both brutal rulers, and the Muwardi, whose vicious and uncompromising aid the Asharites seek. The main sympathetic characters from the Asharite part of the peninsula are Kindath (Jehane, her parents, Mazur) and they are hated by both the Asharites and the Jaddites. I suppose the balance works out in numbers of characters, but in terms of tone, I always felt the balance of my sympathy leaning towards Jaddite Valledo. However, in the historical narrative, Moorish Spain was cultured and forward-thinking, while the Christians basically wanted to kill people (typical). That's obviously a simplification, and I'm no expert, but it does seem that by making King Ramiro sympathetic, in particular, Kay shifted the balance in favor of the Jaddites. Perhaps this was to soften the blow when they ultimately triumphed? Or maybe it was just to show that no one people is ever entirely right, all beliefs have their fanatics and their violent extremists, just as they have their good and just people. Hmm.
Well, he's certainly made me think, and again he's made me almost rupture my ribs from sobbing. Completely unsurprising. I don't know why I let this last Kay novel slip by me for so many years (I think an offhand comment by a friend that it was his weakest work? LIES ALL LIES) but I'm kind of glad I did, because it meant I got the treat of a brand new Kay over my last long vacation for many years. (Eek.) And now I'm basically ruined for all other authors ever. :P
Now that I've completed Kay's whole repertoire (tiny though it is - curse your slow, careful writing!), I can rank his books in order of my preference.
- A Song for Arbonne
- The Lions of Al-Rassan
- The Sarantine Mosaic (2 books)
- The Fionavar Tapestry (3 books)
- Last Light of the Sun
- Ysabel
- Tigana
Tigana is the only one of his books that I ever felt at all dissatisfied with. The ending is just too gratuitously painful, without any of the satisfaction that Lions gave. It denies meetings that feel necessary and brutally withholds closure for most of the central characters. I finished that book angry at Kay instead of worshiping. Other than that, the rest of his books are simply genius. I haven't read Last Light in a very long time, so I think that will be next on my re-read list. I know I've made this recommendation before, but seriously, if you love an intelligently-told story about fully-drawn characters and their parts in grand but not grandiose events on the world stage, you will love these books, I promise.
Now I need something else to read! A review of Lions mentioned a Scottish historical fiction writer named Dorothy Dunnett - has anyone read any of her stuff?