Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay

Where do I even begin with Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay? I'll start by saying that this is the sort of fantasy that is set firmly on the shelf of masterworks, as a template that shows how fantasy as a genre can also most certainly be considered a great, nuanced work of literature. Tigana is more than just a tale of political conflict, but it is also a story of people and memory. This is the second work of Kay's that I've read, so my opinion will be based on what I know of his writing – in that he grounds his setting very much on real-world spaces and cultures. In this case, Renaissance Italy in terms of theme and setting. 

Our space is known as the Palm – a peninsula of often warring provinces that has been divided between two sorcerers who have set themselves up as tyrants. Each maintains his connection to his home but lords it over the territory that he has claimed. One province – Tigana – has been obliterated in an act of magic in revenge for the death of a beloved son. No one who has not lived there, can hear its name spoken or speak it. All knowledge of Tigana is erased, its towers of their capital city torn down, and its people scattered. Soon, a generation will be born who have no memory of the Tigana that was. Their very identity has been severed from the past in one cataclysmic stroke.

It is in this world that we meet our players – a large-ish cast of complex, morally grey individuals. And what Kay does well, is to subvert your loyalties throughout, so that you begin to realise quickly that there is no black or white 'truth' to any given situation, but rather multiple layers. You see heroes in villains and vice versa, and overarching all this is the notion of power and memory. Most importantly, I think, is the notion of the stories that people tell themselves to justify their actions, how holding onto the past can be a two-edged sword. When does one let a tragedy slide? What if grief consumes you so that you can't find a new course?

There is so much to unpick with Tigana. The characters themselves almost become placeholders for the questions that Kay asks. His world is full of mysteries, and much like life, we aren't given neat, tidy answers to encapsulate them when the story is done. He tantalises you with a resolution that might be, that would be satisfying, and rips it away in a manner that hurts profoundly, that makes you question whether the ending (or rather the new beginning) you are given is equally satisfying. Or right. Gosh, this book has hurt my heart and my head. This book deserves a permanent place on my bookshelf.