The Lions of Al-Rassan by Guy Gavriel Kay

I have no idea why I've waited so long to read Guy Gavriel Kay's fiction. He keeps getting mentions from some of my favourite authors, so I'm ridiculously glad that I've finally made the effort to pick up his writing. I stumbled across The Lions of Al-Rassan in one of my local second-hand bookstores, and it languished on my bookshelf awhile longer. 

I won't lie. There's a lot to unpack with this novel. Kay mentions in an interview* that he became interested in examining historical times through the lens of the fantastic, and the way that we can glimpse particular world views through the lenses of the characters. And that's exactly what he does with The Lions of Al-Rassan, which is a book that's going to stay with me for a long, long time and begs that I revisit it at some point in the future, as there is no doubt much that I missed on the first read through.

At its heart, this is a story inspired by the Reconquista, and examines how people, when possessed by strong ideologies, will act when greater forces are at play. Most of the conflict plays out between the kings of Esperaña, who worship the sun god Jad, and the slowly crumbling Cartada empire, that is past its prime and inhabited by the Asharites who worship a stellar deity, Ashar. Each social group sees itself as having the right of things, and the lunar-orientated Kindath – a landless people much like our Jewish folks – are caught between greater powers and often turned into convenient scapegoats. 

Yet there is a basic humanity at play, too. Esperañan military leader Rodrigo Belmonte serves his king, but falls out of favour, and his path crosses with the infamous Asharite poet and assassin, Ammar ibn Kharian. An unlikely friendship is forged, but tension remains, and caught betwixt them is the intelligent, talented Kindath physician Jehane bet Ishak.

Much like Scott Lynch, Kay writes with a remote third-person verging on omniscient, and succeeds so incredibly that I will hold him up as an example for those wanting to see how this somewhat tricky writing style can be done, and done well. His writing harks more to the measured, classic style akin to Tolkien rather than the fast-paced fantasy that's deemed popular these days. As a guide, I'd also recommend him to people who enjoy Robin Hobb. Kay often turns over the kinds of ideas that are difficult, if not impossible, to discuss in polite company (or on social media, for that matter). But he brings these themes, many of which are pertinent to today's current issues, with empathy and nuance. His characters are incredibly well realised, and although not always likeable, they are deeply fascinating. He does not shy away from depicting violence, either, so if you are squeamish, perhaps skip those pages.

A word of caution if you're new to Kay's writing: there are many names, much exposition (beautifully handled), and much nuance, that is difficult to parse at first. But Kay is a master of weaving, and if you are a patient reader, willing to slow your pace, persevere, and allow the words to carry you along, you may well find yourself enchanted like I was.

* https://justaword.fr/interview-guy-gavriel-kay-8d92c6bf6229

A Crown for Cold Silver by Alex Marshall

A Crown for Cold Silver by Alex Marshall has been one of those fantasy reads that sat on my TBR shelf for far too long. The moment that I got into the flow of the story, I could see that this was a novel that was constantly going to pull the metaphorical rug from beneath my feet every time I grew too comfortable. Kinda like GRRM but way, way smarter. And darkly funny, as in an “oh no, really, did HE JUST DO THAT?” kind of bleak, black humour.

Marshall takes all of the tropes we have grown to love about military fantasy, throws in a spot of interdimensional gates and devil-summoning, and delivers a novel that has no holy cows.

While the story maintains what I’d describe as a feeling of authenticity, it doesn’t take itself too seriously, and there’s a satirical buzz flowing along with the chapters that made me wriggle my toes in grim pleasure.

Told from multiple points of view, A Crown for Cold Silver is the first in a trilogy and brings readers into the epic years after the main players’ ‘happily ever after’ turned sour. We meet Zosia and her five Villains, veterans of a failed revolution when Zosia tried her best to tear down the Crimson Empire and bring about what I can only describe as a ‘people’s revolution’. Which didn’t work. And for 20 years, Zosia has been happily married in obscurity, having faked her own death. That is until the Crimson Empire massacres her entire village, putting the feared general on the warpath once again. And she’s a tough old bird. Even though she’s no longer young and quite as spritely.

Added to this are the machinations of the queen vs. the religious order of the Burnished Chain (so essentially secular vs. sacred rule), and a new bunch of renegades stirring up trouble in the spirit of Zosia of old. The entire novel follows assorted characters all headed towards the inevitable great battle, where old and new betrayals, reversals, and unexpected revelations are the order of the day.

What I appreciated about this novel was the way that Marshall portrays the futility of warfare for what it is, how people are wont to lie to themselves (and others) about honour, when at the end of the day everyone is reduced to so much dead flesh and gore. In the midst of it all, characters suffer existential epiphanies, while they struggle to make sense of their life goals once they realise that what they thought they wanted, isn’t necessarily for the best.

This is a deliciously ultra-violent, blood-drenched and awful story not for the faint of heart. I loved every minute of it. There were times when I thought of Pratchett’s Discworld, but just helluva darker and far denser in terms of writing.