More Book Babble
I was tooling around Amazon a while ago for something unrelated and noticed Sailing to Sarantium on my recommendations list. No surprise there. What caught my attention was the new cover art for it and its successor. I knew it was only a matter of time as Kay's other books have undergone similar art changes as of late: e.g. Tigana (to be honest, I don't care for this one: the generic shield feels out of place and I have to roll my eyes at the Greek lorem ipsum) and A Song for Arbonne (pleasant enough, not quite as much personality as the Kinuko Y. Kraft version). I'm just mad about the new Sarantine Mosaic look, especially side by side.
While I'm on the subject of GGK, I recently devoured read Under Heaven. Like A Song for Arbonne, I wasn't familiar with the real world counterpart, which made for an interesting experience. For example, knowledge of Byzantine history leaves one with the certitude that some events (e.g. the Nika Revolts) would make an appearance in the Sarantine Mosaic. I imagine that for someone familiar with the Tang Dynasty, allusions to the Three/Four Great Beauties would raise a red flag. For me-whose familiarity extends as far as the vague memory that Li Bai was writing sometime in this period-the latter events of the book were a complete surprise. Occasional poetry and discussion of its influence and importance in the context of the culture is another thing it has in common with A Song for Arbonne.
It may supplant the other books in the above paragraph for favorite by this author. Nothing may ever surpass the pure awe evoked by the rose scene from Song (it's right up there with the 'cup of parting'/gift scene from 'Farewell to Lórien' and most of Merriman's exposition* for a breath-catching, almost theatrical, sense of ritual), but Under Heaven as a whole is exquisite. It has all the hallmarks of what we've come to expect of a Kay novel: focus on a protagonist (in something of an adult Bildungsroman situation) and occasional omniscient narrator digressions, lyrical prose, byzantine political maneuvering and intrigue, an enormous cast of characters, and an emphasis on art (and bonus allusions to other works of his).
*Fun fact: Songs of Exposition is the title for this journal because of Merriman's penchant for it and my own penchant for singing that exposition aloud whenever I reread The Dark is Rising (especially Over Sea, Under Stone). When I'm by myself, clearly.
While I'm on the subject of GGK, I recently devoured read Under Heaven. Like A Song for Arbonne, I wasn't familiar with the real world counterpart, which made for an interesting experience. For example, knowledge of Byzantine history leaves one with the certitude that some events (e.g. the Nika Revolts) would make an appearance in the Sarantine Mosaic. I imagine that for someone familiar with the Tang Dynasty, allusions to the Three/Four Great Beauties would raise a red flag. For me-whose familiarity extends as far as the vague memory that Li Bai was writing sometime in this period-the latter events of the book were a complete surprise. Occasional poetry and discussion of its influence and importance in the context of the culture is another thing it has in common with A Song for Arbonne.
It may supplant the other books in the above paragraph for favorite by this author. Nothing may ever surpass the pure awe evoked by the rose scene from Song (it's right up there with the 'cup of parting'/gift scene from 'Farewell to Lórien' and most of Merriman's exposition* for a breath-catching, almost theatrical, sense of ritual), but Under Heaven as a whole is exquisite. It has all the hallmarks of what we've come to expect of a Kay novel: focus on a protagonist (in something of an adult Bildungsroman situation) and occasional omniscient narrator digressions, lyrical prose, byzantine political maneuvering and intrigue, an enormous cast of characters, and an emphasis on art (and bonus allusions to other works of his).
*Fun fact: Songs of Exposition is the title for this journal because of Merriman's penchant for it and my own penchant for singing that exposition aloud whenever I reread The Dark is Rising (especially Over Sea, Under Stone). When I'm by myself, clearly.