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Under Heaven #1
Under Heaven
In Under Heaven, Kay tells a story of honor and power, this time in a setting that evokes the dazzling Tang Dynasty of eighth-century China. In recognition of his service to the Emperor of Kitai, Shen Tai has been sent a mysterious and dangerous gift: 250 Sardian horses. Wisely the gift comes with the stipulation that the horses must be claimed in person. Otherwise, he would probably be dead already.
592 pages, Hardcover
First published April 27, 2010
648 people are currently reading
18k people want to read
About the author
Guy Gavriel Kay
39books8,865followersGuy Gavriel Kay is a Canadian author of fantasy fiction. Many of his novels are set in fictional realms that resemble real places during real historical periods, such as Constantinople during the reign of Justinian I or Spain during the time of El Cid. Those works are published and marketed as historical fantasy, though the author himself has expressed a preference to shy away from genre categorization when possible.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,811 reviews
February 20, 2016
Sometimes, words fail me when I need them most. Oftentimes, it's because a book is so bad that I don't even know where to begin listing all the problems. In this case, in the case of my very favorite books, the right words just escape me because there's just nothing I can say. Because my simple, stupid words are meaningless when it comes to describing the pure, untarnished brilliance of this book. I am simply humbled.
It's like thanking the one of the great living people on earth, someone one truly admires, like the Dalai Lama. Is there anything one can say that doesn't come off sounding trite? "I admire everything you've done." Really? Is there anything one can say that doesn't sound like a vast understatement, that doesn't make a person wince as they hear the clash of such stupid little words in the presence of such greatness? It is cruel how words often fail us at the most crucial moments.
There are words, then there are words. There is a difference between slapping words together in order to create a coherent sentence versus weaving words together in a composition of unparalleled artistry. A well-woven sentence speaks to the heart, it sings to the spirit. Words can bring forth feelings of outraged anger. Words can sooth a restless mind. Words can be strung together in a simple sentence that makes no relevance in the context of the book, yet is so beautiful in its simplicity. Words can bring that familiar sting of tears to your eyes as you read, and reread, and reread, a passage that is written with such simple poignancy.
There are books with plots that hold your attention span from the first word to the last, filled with action, intrigue, suspense. This is not one of these books. The words in this book are to be savored, because it is poetry in prose. You will find no pretentious writing here. The prose is sparse, simple, direct, no dictionary required. But that's the power of words, the ability to take a simple vocabulary which a grade schooler can read and assemble it in such a way that the wise can understand. Guy Gavriel Kay is a master of prose.
In theory, this book shouldn't have appealed to me at all. I am a creature of minimal attention span. My mind, my eye constantly seeks novelty. I multitask every waking moment. Yet this book is loved, and has been beloved by me since I first read it, years ago. This book is not slow in its pace, but it is interspersed with reflections, narratives, observations regarding the deeper meanings underneath.
It is a high fantasy that feels more like a historical. It is the story of a weary soldier who abates his guilt, his ghosts, both real and imagined, by burying the bones of soldiers left where they fell, on a long-forgotten battleground. In return for this unwarranted act of kindness, he is awarded 250 prized horses.
We follow Shen Tai as he travels home. The dead are dead, not forgotten, and always restless. We see the politics between courts in play. We meet a Kailin assassin, honor-bound to protect Shen Tai with her life. We see the roots of a revolution take place. There is death. There is betrayal. There is heartbreak. There is sibling rivalry and loyalty to the blood. There is a deep friendship and understanding between two men who should have been enemies. We see women live their lives behind a gilded cage, seemingly powerless, relying only on their beauty, subterfuge, and wit; for them, few men are to be trusted.
In my life, I have been a disinterested Buddhist at best, and an angry atheist at worst. I've never believed in the concept of a soul. This book makes me feel like there's more to me than just the physical; if I don't have a soul, how can something within me feel so much peace?
It's like thanking the one of the great living people on earth, someone one truly admires, like the Dalai Lama. Is there anything one can say that doesn't come off sounding trite? "I admire everything you've done." Really? Is there anything one can say that doesn't sound like a vast understatement, that doesn't make a person wince as they hear the clash of such stupid little words in the presence of such greatness? It is cruel how words often fail us at the most crucial moments.
There are words, then there are words. There is a difference between slapping words together in order to create a coherent sentence versus weaving words together in a composition of unparalleled artistry. A well-woven sentence speaks to the heart, it sings to the spirit. Words can bring forth feelings of outraged anger. Words can sooth a restless mind. Words can be strung together in a simple sentence that makes no relevance in the context of the book, yet is so beautiful in its simplicity. Words can bring that familiar sting of tears to your eyes as you read, and reread, and reread, a passage that is written with such simple poignancy.
There are books with plots that hold your attention span from the first word to the last, filled with action, intrigue, suspense. This is not one of these books. The words in this book are to be savored, because it is poetry in prose. You will find no pretentious writing here. The prose is sparse, simple, direct, no dictionary required. But that's the power of words, the ability to take a simple vocabulary which a grade schooler can read and assemble it in such a way that the wise can understand. Guy Gavriel Kay is a master of prose.
In theory, this book shouldn't have appealed to me at all. I am a creature of minimal attention span. My mind, my eye constantly seeks novelty. I multitask every waking moment. Yet this book is loved, and has been beloved by me since I first read it, years ago. This book is not slow in its pace, but it is interspersed with reflections, narratives, observations regarding the deeper meanings underneath.
It is a high fantasy that feels more like a historical. It is the story of a weary soldier who abates his guilt, his ghosts, both real and imagined, by burying the bones of soldiers left where they fell, on a long-forgotten battleground. In return for this unwarranted act of kindness, he is awarded 250 prized horses.
You gave a man one of the Sardian horses to reward him greatly. You gave him four or five of those glories to exalt him above his fellows, propel him towards rank--and earn him the jealousy, possibly mortal, of those who rode the smaller horses of the steppes.What follows is Shen Tai's journey, interwoven with others whose fate is destined to weave with his own. In essence, the Princess has awarded Shen Tai with an honor so great that it might send him to his death. Royalty is like that. They never consider the consequences of their grand actions.
The Princess Cheng-wan, a royal consort of Tagur now through twenty years of peace, had just bestowed upon him, with permission, two hundred and fifty of the dragon horses.
We follow Shen Tai as he travels home. The dead are dead, not forgotten, and always restless. We see the politics between courts in play. We meet a Kailin assassin, honor-bound to protect Shen Tai with her life. We see the roots of a revolution take place. There is death. There is betrayal. There is heartbreak. There is sibling rivalry and loyalty to the blood. There is a deep friendship and understanding between two men who should have been enemies. We see women live their lives behind a gilded cage, seemingly powerless, relying only on their beauty, subterfuge, and wit; for them, few men are to be trusted.
There are limits to what a woman in her position can know, however intelligent and committed she might be. There are too many constraints on someone confined to the women’s quarters of a compound or a curtained sedan chair, relying for information on infatuated servants.We witness their fates, their separate lives as they intersect, through the simple act of an unparalleled gift. A gift that might destroy a nation.
There have always been such limits. It is the way of things, and not all men are foolish, though it might seem otherwise at times.
In my life, I have been a disinterested Buddhist at best, and an angry atheist at worst. I've never believed in the concept of a soul. This book makes me feel like there's more to me than just the physical; if I don't have a soul, how can something within me feel so much peace?
Branching paths. The turning of days and seasons and years. Life offered you love sometimes, sorrow often. If you were very fortunate, true friendship. Sometimes war came.
You did what you could to shape your own peace, before you crossed over to the night and left the world behind, as all men did, to be forgotten or remembered, as time or love allowed.
May 4, 2010
(Dear ϻӮ friends I may have deceived with my initial status updates on this book, please to accept my profound regrets and the below revised retraction- if you don't mind some spoilers...
With apologies,
Kelly...)
So, you guys saw Clerks, right? Actually, I think it might’ve been Clerks II, but anyway: there’s one part where some characters pose a very important nerd battle: Star Wars trilogy vs. LOTR trilogy. The major points are as per usual, Darth Vader and lightsabers, BOOM EXPLODING PLANET, etc vs…, as the Clerks gentlemen put it: “three movies about walking!” LOTR nerds usually fire back with something about “myths, legends, deeper meaning, invented a whole language… you heathen peasants!” (For a definitive opinion on this important subject, please see Dr. Oxford: ). Now, you guys, I’ve watched Fellowship of the Ring an unhealthy amount of times, you know I love me some 1000 pages of Victorian nonsense about nothing, and The Music of Repressed Piano is the rhythm of my heart, but right after finishing Under Heaven, I’m definitely more in sympathy with my Star Wars nerds.
Under Heaven is a trilogy within a very large stand alone epic. First book: Awesome. Second book: NO. Third book: Ultimately fails due to the flaws in set up of the second book, but could have been better. Also, A.S. Byatt should sue. I’ll explain.
Act I: He had me from his ghostly cries at night. I adored this set up- Kay places us by a lake in northern China- ahem, Kitai-, near the border with the powerful Taguran empire. A huge battle took place there twenty years ago, and as a result the bones of a hundred thousand soldiers lie unburied, their ghosts grieving and haunting the night. Shen Tai, the second son of the man who won the battle here for Kitai, has returned to grieve for his dead father by burying as many men as he can here- from both sides, for the duration of the formal two and a half year mourning period. I’ve come to expect rapture from Kay- I did not get it here, but I did get a wonderfully contemplative, quiet opening that seemed to speak of a more mature, measured writer. His contrast of poetic lyrics with living images was quietly lovely. He did an excellent job depicting his main character as a man on the cusp of life, of choosing a path, and all the problems that go with that- he did a particularly excellent job of evoking that sensation of closing doors, of Sylvia Plath’s dropping figs. I adored the echoes of the dead and real life bouncing off each other as Shen tries to find his “balance” (yes, there is a bit of basic yin-yang philosophy here) in life. He also sets up what turned out to be my favorite parts of the book: Interludes (which happen throughout the book) in which a third-person omniscient voice from the future looks back on the story being told lyrically expounds upon the difference between experienced events and recorded history- the idea that historical “truth” lies somewhere in between prejudice, perspective, imperfect records, and the narrative being told. It’s somewhere between an elegy and an amused critique of the idea of “history,” and it works very well. Plot wise, he sets up a great relationships for Shen Tai: with the Taguran captain, his lost concubine love, and the foreshadowing of his complicated relationship with his brother. There are hints of darkness closing in, and the close of the act delivers a perfect POW to the face that demands change.
Act II: I just… I just don’t know what Kay was thinking here. I don’t get it. I kind of wanted to turn to the alternative ‘Choose My Own Adventure’. He just turned the wrong way. I don’t know what else to tell you guys. I felt like that horse in Beauty and the Beast when the old dad tells him to turn down the creepy-ass road that’s clearly going to get everyone involved murdered, and his face is all, “Bitch kidding?” He left his perfectly wonderful story for three other ones, two of which were INCREDIBLY BORING. Shen Tai becomes the incarnation of three movies about walking- the Hollywoodized version. Of the 300 pages that it takes for him to get to the capitol, here's an approximation of how he spends his share of pages:
50 pages: Thinking about how he hasn’t had a woman in two years
50 pages: Being turned on by tufts of wind that may have been near the various goddess like women that populate the pages of this book
50 pages: Receiving important information (in a whorehouse)- and having it repeated later
20 pages: Mildly important plot events
2 pages: Having repartee he believes is witty with a woman
1 page: Actually having sex
The remainder of the pages are taken up by alternate storylines. Kay has always been one of the best among fantasy writers about giving women their due, and here he really does surpass himself. The women are everywhere. I’d say their stories dominate the book, actually. He should get some props for that. Unfortunately, of the four major women, two were stereotypes and one was boring, and the other one got TOTALLY SHAFTED for incredibly lame theme reasons. There were no Dianoras here, no Jehanes, no Catrianas. We spend a good 200 pages with Shen Tai’s sister and it’s quite dull. I mean, ostensibly, she’s a cool Strong Woman and all, but he just doesn’t have any passion about her and it shows. The women he does have passion for are the ones you would expect him to: the ones that are exquisite, beyond beautiful, and sexually confident. The one female character who did emerge as a fully formed person with a layered story… ends up totally not mattering at all! What a waste! And not in a beautifully thematic sort of way.
There’s just no coherence here- there’s no woven tapestry like there typically is. Usually in those moments, you get some kind of character development to make up for it. Not in this case, as you see above: riding, thinking about women, recapping plot, the end. It feels like he just chose the wrong story to tell to me. I wanted him to stick near the border, stuck between two forts (what a great story that would’ve been!), I wanted his sister to get captured by brigands and become a pirate queen or something, or why not tell us more about the Silk Road that you brought up continuously in the first 100 pages and then totally dropped in favor of events in the east. Why not meet the mysterious princess who offered Shen Tai so great a gift? Oooh, there are tigers down south and jungles to explore in India… so why aren’t we there? He talks a lot about the stories history doesn’t tell, those shunted to the side… and then proceeded to do that in his story- come on! That might've been part of the point, but we as readers should've gotten one of the more interesting choices, no? One of my English teachers used to circle off hand sentences at the bottom of a secondary argument and say, “Why didn’t you write about this instead??” I know how she felt now. Shen Tai was a potentially interesting character that was totally wasted on the rest of this book.
Act III: We finally get where we’re going. Unfortunately, the people we’re being brought to meet are not at all worth the wait. They're are caricatures of previous Kay characters, who’ve been done better before. I don’t even like Fionavar that much, and I thought the heir to the throne was a poor man’s Diarmuid, the emperor’s consort a pale imitation of the empress from the Sarantine Duology, etc, etc. He just gave me all the hallmarks, but didn’t put any soul into them. He gave me the customary language about being in awe and adoration of these people and didn’t really give me much to adore- everyone was much too distant and wasn’t there for long enough. The big climatic scene that’s supposed to be a tragedy fails because we weren’t set up to care. The romance pissed me off: a perfect example of Kay pausing at a fork in the road and taking the banal road, one that came up out of the blue I might add (a total Alessan-Catriana special), as opposed to the one he’d beautifully set up from the very beginning, involving the only character I really cared about. (This is where the AS Byatt thing comes into play- he seriously has the whole lost letter thing from Possession happen, with the same imagery, making the same point, rather clumsily, I thought.) I think I was supposed to just softly weep my heartbreak, but it just rung up as yet another poor storytelling choice. This happened repeatedly, with all the best stuff from Act I: with the family drama he set up at the beginning (totally wasted), the possibly ambiguous villains (they turn out to be black and white), and Shen Tai’s involvement with the larger events of the empire (just involved enough to make me want to follow that story, not involved enough to actually follow through).
And then, as if in parody of this whole thing, he committed the worst LOTR movie sin of them all: The perilously long epilogue where it takes twelve tries to say goodbye… mostly to characters who have been tragically oversimplified beyond hope of any connection. I already had my idea for this review in my head and almost couldn’t believe it was happening as I read it.
It wasn’t a bad book. It just failed to live up to its potential. You know, I just wrote a whole review of Kay’s earliest work, making fun of him for being in constant, throbbing ecstasy all the time. It turns out the pendulum can swing too far in the other direction. In painful irony, this was a novel about balance, too.
Overall: It’s like my mom said after I took her to see Into the Woods: “Told you nothing good could come of staying after the first act.”
With apologies,
Kelly...)
So, you guys saw Clerks, right? Actually, I think it might’ve been Clerks II, but anyway: there’s one part where some characters pose a very important nerd battle: Star Wars trilogy vs. LOTR trilogy. The major points are as per usual, Darth Vader and lightsabers, BOOM EXPLODING PLANET, etc vs…, as the Clerks gentlemen put it: “three movies about walking!” LOTR nerds usually fire back with something about “myths, legends, deeper meaning, invented a whole language… you heathen peasants!” (For a definitive opinion on this important subject, please see Dr. Oxford: ). Now, you guys, I’ve watched Fellowship of the Ring an unhealthy amount of times, you know I love me some 1000 pages of Victorian nonsense about nothing, and The Music of Repressed Piano is the rhythm of my heart, but right after finishing Under Heaven, I’m definitely more in sympathy with my Star Wars nerds.
Under Heaven is a trilogy within a very large stand alone epic. First book: Awesome. Second book: NO. Third book: Ultimately fails due to the flaws in set up of the second book, but could have been better. Also, A.S. Byatt should sue. I’ll explain.
Act I: He had me from his ghostly cries at night. I adored this set up- Kay places us by a lake in northern China- ahem, Kitai-, near the border with the powerful Taguran empire. A huge battle took place there twenty years ago, and as a result the bones of a hundred thousand soldiers lie unburied, their ghosts grieving and haunting the night. Shen Tai, the second son of the man who won the battle here for Kitai, has returned to grieve for his dead father by burying as many men as he can here- from both sides, for the duration of the formal two and a half year mourning period. I’ve come to expect rapture from Kay- I did not get it here, but I did get a wonderfully contemplative, quiet opening that seemed to speak of a more mature, measured writer. His contrast of poetic lyrics with living images was quietly lovely. He did an excellent job depicting his main character as a man on the cusp of life, of choosing a path, and all the problems that go with that- he did a particularly excellent job of evoking that sensation of closing doors, of Sylvia Plath’s dropping figs. I adored the echoes of the dead and real life bouncing off each other as Shen tries to find his “balance” (yes, there is a bit of basic yin-yang philosophy here) in life. He also sets up what turned out to be my favorite parts of the book: Interludes (which happen throughout the book) in which a third-person omniscient voice from the future looks back on the story being told lyrically expounds upon the difference between experienced events and recorded history- the idea that historical “truth” lies somewhere in between prejudice, perspective, imperfect records, and the narrative being told. It’s somewhere between an elegy and an amused critique of the idea of “history,” and it works very well. Plot wise, he sets up a great relationships for Shen Tai: with the Taguran captain, his lost concubine love, and the foreshadowing of his complicated relationship with his brother. There are hints of darkness closing in, and the close of the act delivers a perfect POW to the face that demands change.
Act II: I just… I just don’t know what Kay was thinking here. I don’t get it. I kind of wanted to turn to the alternative ‘Choose My Own Adventure’. He just turned the wrong way. I don’t know what else to tell you guys. I felt like that horse in Beauty and the Beast when the old dad tells him to turn down the creepy-ass road that’s clearly going to get everyone involved murdered, and his face is all, “Bitch kidding?” He left his perfectly wonderful story for three other ones, two of which were INCREDIBLY BORING. Shen Tai becomes the incarnation of three movies about walking- the Hollywoodized version. Of the 300 pages that it takes for him to get to the capitol, here's an approximation of how he spends his share of pages:
50 pages: Thinking about how he hasn’t had a woman in two years
50 pages: Being turned on by tufts of wind that may have been near the various goddess like women that populate the pages of this book
50 pages: Receiving important information (in a whorehouse)- and having it repeated later
20 pages: Mildly important plot events
2 pages: Having repartee he believes is witty with a woman
1 page: Actually having sex
The remainder of the pages are taken up by alternate storylines. Kay has always been one of the best among fantasy writers about giving women their due, and here he really does surpass himself. The women are everywhere. I’d say their stories dominate the book, actually. He should get some props for that. Unfortunately, of the four major women, two were stereotypes and one was boring, and the other one got TOTALLY SHAFTED for incredibly lame theme reasons. There were no Dianoras here, no Jehanes, no Catrianas. We spend a good 200 pages with Shen Tai’s sister and it’s quite dull. I mean, ostensibly, she’s a cool Strong Woman and all, but he just doesn’t have any passion about her and it shows. The women he does have passion for are the ones you would expect him to: the ones that are exquisite, beyond beautiful, and sexually confident. The one female character who did emerge as a fully formed person with a layered story… ends up totally not mattering at all! What a waste! And not in a beautifully thematic sort of way.
There’s just no coherence here- there’s no woven tapestry like there typically is. Usually in those moments, you get some kind of character development to make up for it. Not in this case, as you see above: riding, thinking about women, recapping plot, the end. It feels like he just chose the wrong story to tell to me. I wanted him to stick near the border, stuck between two forts (what a great story that would’ve been!), I wanted his sister to get captured by brigands and become a pirate queen or something, or why not tell us more about the Silk Road that you brought up continuously in the first 100 pages and then totally dropped in favor of events in the east. Why not meet the mysterious princess who offered Shen Tai so great a gift? Oooh, there are tigers down south and jungles to explore in India… so why aren’t we there? He talks a lot about the stories history doesn’t tell, those shunted to the side… and then proceeded to do that in his story- come on! That might've been part of the point, but we as readers should've gotten one of the more interesting choices, no? One of my English teachers used to circle off hand sentences at the bottom of a secondary argument and say, “Why didn’t you write about this instead??” I know how she felt now. Shen Tai was a potentially interesting character that was totally wasted on the rest of this book.
Act III: We finally get where we’re going. Unfortunately, the people we’re being brought to meet are not at all worth the wait. They're are caricatures of previous Kay characters, who’ve been done better before. I don’t even like Fionavar that much, and I thought the heir to the throne was a poor man’s Diarmuid, the emperor’s consort a pale imitation of the empress from the Sarantine Duology, etc, etc. He just gave me all the hallmarks, but didn’t put any soul into them. He gave me the customary language about being in awe and adoration of these people and didn’t really give me much to adore- everyone was much too distant and wasn’t there for long enough. The big climatic scene that’s supposed to be a tragedy fails because we weren’t set up to care. The romance pissed me off: a perfect example of Kay pausing at a fork in the road and taking the banal road, one that came up out of the blue I might add (a total Alessan-Catriana special), as opposed to the one he’d beautifully set up from the very beginning, involving the only character I really cared about. (This is where the AS Byatt thing comes into play- he seriously has the whole lost letter thing from Possession happen, with the same imagery, making the same point, rather clumsily, I thought.) I think I was supposed to just softly weep my heartbreak, but it just rung up as yet another poor storytelling choice. This happened repeatedly, with all the best stuff from Act I: with the family drama he set up at the beginning (totally wasted), the possibly ambiguous villains (they turn out to be black and white), and Shen Tai’s involvement with the larger events of the empire (just involved enough to make me want to follow that story, not involved enough to actually follow through).
And then, as if in parody of this whole thing, he committed the worst LOTR movie sin of them all: The perilously long epilogue where it takes twelve tries to say goodbye… mostly to characters who have been tragically oversimplified beyond hope of any connection. I already had my idea for this review in my head and almost couldn’t believe it was happening as I read it.
It wasn’t a bad book. It just failed to live up to its potential. You know, I just wrote a whole review of Kay’s earliest work, making fun of him for being in constant, throbbing ecstasy all the time. It turns out the pendulum can swing too far in the other direction. In painful irony, this was a novel about balance, too.
Overall: It’s like my mom said after I took her to see Into the Woods: “Told you nothing good could come of staying after the first act.”
February 3, 2011
Delicious, a meaty, engrossing book with prose that brushed the edges of poetry. In some ways, it is three different books that might have benefited from being turned into full novels, but that's part of the joy of Kay's work-- he always has me wishing there was more time to explore relationships, back stories, and so on. It's an unusual setting for the type of fantasy I read, set in ancient China during the Tang Dynasty, a golden age of China's power. He wove the characters together in one of those plot lines where a single decisions coupled with coincidence prove disastrous, with far-reaching and unintended consequences. If you like Kay's style and prose, this is worth reading strictly for the enjoyment of his language.
June 28, 2017
Here the world is all the world may be.
A powerful blend of historical fiction and fantasy, Kay delivers a great story about loss and honour. This story is about Shen Tai who, after spending two years in mourning over the death of his father burying the bones and being haunted by their ghosts, is sent an unexpected gift of 250 Sardian horses, otherwise known as ‘heavenly horses’. This instantly puts him in a position of power and Tai must decide what to do with this gift.
Set during a fantasized version of the Tang dynasty in eighth century China, Kay is able to create a majestic atmosphere.
I really enjoyed the role that poetry plays in the world. Poetry is really important and Tai meets, and then travels with a famous poet and they share poems amongst themselves often. I really enjoyed the romantic elements of this book, and that’s something I don’t think I’ve ever said in a book review before.
Check out all my book blogs at .
Format
Book format: Kindle ebook
Length: 567 pages
Reading difficulty: Medium
POV: Mainly follows Tai and his sister Li-Mei but it does jump to other viewpoints
Person: Third
Chronology: Linear
Writing
Kay’s writing is magnificent! He can carry emotions well and as such, the impactful elements of this story really stand out. The poems featured within were really good, for the most part.
This book is infinitely quotable; here are some of my favourite bits:
There was a new hole in the world where sorrow could enter
a red violence was approaching from the east
Vengeance could give birth to horrors not to be spoken aloud
Branching paths. The turning of days and seasons and years. Life offered you love sometimes, sorrow often. If you were very fortunate, true friendship
Bitter wind blows battle smoke
Wild geese and cranes fly.
Later, moon’s disk in the water.
Plum blossoms mirrored in the river,
Until they fall.
It is difficult to feel that your life means anything under this sky
Red song of war arrows, red sun
The demons could triumph, take any man’s soul, carry it off as a prize to their own red kingdom
Characters
The story follows Tai mostly, who is a very honourable character and very interesting. Kay was able to make me feel is struggle and care about what happens to him throughout.
To me, this book should’ve focused more on Li-Mei, Tai’s sister, and Meshag. Their ‘relationship’ was tremendously interesting and I wanted to see more of this. I thought it was very unique.
Notable issues
A few of the side characters do blend into one another at various points. There wasn’t much unique about a lot of the minor characters which led to me having to stop and check that I had the correct person in my mind.
Kay does go a bit overboard with commas, but this is more of a style point. It’s also a bit long in the tooth sometimes but it’s a well thought out story.
Final thought
If you’re looking for dragons and wild fight scenes, look elsewhere. This story, and Kay’s other works are what I like to term ‘Grown up’ historical fantasy. It’s subtle and it blends historical elements with great characters along with an emotional story.
If you are looking for a book that makes you “feel something”, I’d highly recommend this, or Tigana, which is one of my favourite books of all time.
A powerful blend of historical fiction and fantasy, Kay delivers a great story about loss and honour. This story is about Shen Tai who, after spending two years in mourning over the death of his father burying the bones and being haunted by their ghosts, is sent an unexpected gift of 250 Sardian horses, otherwise known as ‘heavenly horses’. This instantly puts him in a position of power and Tai must decide what to do with this gift.
Set during a fantasized version of the Tang dynasty in eighth century China, Kay is able to create a majestic atmosphere.
I really enjoyed the role that poetry plays in the world. Poetry is really important and Tai meets, and then travels with a famous poet and they share poems amongst themselves often. I really enjoyed the romantic elements of this book, and that’s something I don’t think I’ve ever said in a book review before.
Check out all my book blogs at .
Format
Book format: Kindle ebook
Length: 567 pages
Reading difficulty: Medium
POV: Mainly follows Tai and his sister Li-Mei but it does jump to other viewpoints
Person: Third
Chronology: Linear
Writing
Kay’s writing is magnificent! He can carry emotions well and as such, the impactful elements of this story really stand out. The poems featured within were really good, for the most part.
This book is infinitely quotable; here are some of my favourite bits:
There was a new hole in the world where sorrow could enter
a red violence was approaching from the east
Vengeance could give birth to horrors not to be spoken aloud
Branching paths. The turning of days and seasons and years. Life offered you love sometimes, sorrow often. If you were very fortunate, true friendship
Bitter wind blows battle smoke
Wild geese and cranes fly.
Later, moon’s disk in the water.
Plum blossoms mirrored in the river,
Until they fall.
It is difficult to feel that your life means anything under this sky
Red song of war arrows, red sun
The demons could triumph, take any man’s soul, carry it off as a prize to their own red kingdom
Characters
The story follows Tai mostly, who is a very honourable character and very interesting. Kay was able to make me feel is struggle and care about what happens to him throughout.
To me, this book should’ve focused more on Li-Mei, Tai’s sister, and Meshag. Their ‘relationship’ was tremendously interesting and I wanted to see more of this. I thought it was very unique.
Notable issues
A few of the side characters do blend into one another at various points. There wasn’t much unique about a lot of the minor characters which led to me having to stop and check that I had the correct person in my mind.
Kay does go a bit overboard with commas, but this is more of a style point. It’s also a bit long in the tooth sometimes but it’s a well thought out story.
Final thought
If you’re looking for dragons and wild fight scenes, look elsewhere. This story, and Kay’s other works are what I like to term ‘Grown up’ historical fantasy. It’s subtle and it blends historical elements with great characters along with an emotional story.
If you are looking for a book that makes you “feel something”, I’d highly recommend this, or Tigana, which is one of my favourite books of all time.
December 1, 2023
Ok, another GGK stand alone book done. And another that is a viable entry point for the author.
Edit: I want to clarify for people, because this gets confused. Under Heaven is a stand alone book. River of Stars takes place in the same world, but about 500 years later. This is not a duology like The Sarantine Mosaic is
This book in terms of connections is completely separate from the other GGK books, so the connections don't matter(ok, technically Fionavar is portal fantasy, so in a broad way it is connected, and one line is an Easter egg, but whatever, it's irrelevant).
So, what is Under Heaven about?
Like most of GGK's books since Tigana, it is a historical fantasy, with a setting and conflict based on historical events. This book starts off with a man name Tai, who is trying to bury 100,000 bodies from a past battle. He could not bury them all, not in 10 life times, but he is going to try and bury as much as he can in the years of mourning following the death of his father. At night he hears the ghosts scream, and cry out in ager, sorrow, and desperation. People from both sides of that battle that left a hundred thousand dead are aware of what he does, and they wonder how sleeping surrounded by the wailing of spirits doesn't drive him to terror or insanity.
Tai then receives a gift.
“The world could bring you poison in a jeweled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn't know which of them it was.”
This begins a political fantasy book, set in the corrupt, decadent, and beautiful backdrop of Tang dynasty China. Which is referred to as 9th dynasty Kitai. Because the names are changed. The names are changed because it is important to the author to make it clear these are fictional events based on the Tang Dynasty, not what he thinks happened during the Tang dynasty.
I have said this before, and I will say it again.
I
Love
GGK
Scheming.
He is able to balance master plans, foolish actions, genius, and luck in a way that feels so reasonable, and compelling. You can tell what he thinks is important. Because he writes verbal confrontations like other others write action set pieces. With detail, and tension, and the dynamic of who is winning and losing constantly changing. He also writes a battle, and summarizes it in third person omniscient. Probably takes up less than a page(the way he did it was actually quite cool).
I wonder if this comes from GGK's time in law school, but the way he writes adversarial conversations is just genius.
Anyway, moving on. that is what it is about, here are some quick comparisons relative to other GGK books I have read.
At times the pacing feels a little slower. I don't think there is ever a repetitive chapter, or even a redundant scene. I think it is because from the perspective of the grand narrative, as in events in Kitai, the narrative is pretty back heavy. In fact one could argue if this story is about an entire continent, then more happens in the epilogue than the rest of the book. However I think the pacing of the stories about the individuals is pretty even.
I appreciate that this is the case, and it is that while there still is going to be sex scenes, I think as GGK throughout his career(basically since Tigana, and Al-Rassan) he has gotten quite a bit less descriptive in his sex scenes. They are much shorter, less graphic, and do a better job of communicating the narrative. In my opinion this is an improvement the same way an author tightening up the writing of action scenes, to focus more on the stuff that is important to the narrative, and less on blow by blow combat details.
The worldbuilding in this is probably the most detailed, and rich, except for maybe Tigana. Except Tigana was in a book that is 50% longer. Fantastic job when it comes to the setting, his research paid off, and I believe this is the most time he spent researching for any of his novels.
It generally has a slightly tighter focus on 2 characters, with 1 clearly being the protagonist. GGK is still GGK, and he is still going to PoV hop, but this is a lot more focused on Shen Tai, and the Shen family then others.
Oh, and ya the characters are fantastic. Love the entire cast.
This book also explored the theme of how the women in this empire are able to take agency when the world has tried to strip it from them, and also this novel explores the rather optimistic theme of the value of altruism. Not just how it can help others, but how it can help the person being altruistic. The themes covered in this novel are too numerous to describe in a goodreads review though, but I thought the way they were explored was really interesting, and didn't intrude on the narrative, but added to it.
9.4/10
Edit: I want to clarify for people, because this gets confused. Under Heaven is a stand alone book. River of Stars takes place in the same world, but about 500 years later. This is not a duology like The Sarantine Mosaic is
This book in terms of connections is completely separate from the other GGK books, so the connections don't matter(ok, technically Fionavar is portal fantasy, so in a broad way it is connected, and one line is an Easter egg, but whatever, it's irrelevant).
So, what is Under Heaven about?
Like most of GGK's books since Tigana, it is a historical fantasy, with a setting and conflict based on historical events. This book starts off with a man name Tai, who is trying to bury 100,000 bodies from a past battle. He could not bury them all, not in 10 life times, but he is going to try and bury as much as he can in the years of mourning following the death of his father. At night he hears the ghosts scream, and cry out in ager, sorrow, and desperation. People from both sides of that battle that left a hundred thousand dead are aware of what he does, and they wonder how sleeping surrounded by the wailing of spirits doesn't drive him to terror or insanity.
Tai then receives a gift.
“The world could bring you poison in a jeweled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn't know which of them it was.”
This begins a political fantasy book, set in the corrupt, decadent, and beautiful backdrop of Tang dynasty China. Which is referred to as 9th dynasty Kitai. Because the names are changed. The names are changed because it is important to the author to make it clear these are fictional events based on the Tang Dynasty, not what he thinks happened during the Tang dynasty.
I have said this before, and I will say it again.
I
Love
GGK
Scheming.
He is able to balance master plans, foolish actions, genius, and luck in a way that feels so reasonable, and compelling. You can tell what he thinks is important. Because he writes verbal confrontations like other others write action set pieces. With detail, and tension, and the dynamic of who is winning and losing constantly changing. He also writes a battle, and summarizes it in third person omniscient. Probably takes up less than a page(the way he did it was actually quite cool).
I wonder if this comes from GGK's time in law school, but the way he writes adversarial conversations is just genius.
Anyway, moving on. that is what it is about, here are some quick comparisons relative to other GGK books I have read.
At times the pacing feels a little slower. I don't think there is ever a repetitive chapter, or even a redundant scene. I think it is because from the perspective of the grand narrative, as in events in Kitai, the narrative is pretty back heavy. In fact one could argue if this story is about an entire continent, then more happens in the epilogue than the rest of the book. However I think the pacing of the stories about the individuals is pretty even.
I appreciate that this is the case, and it is that while there still is going to be sex scenes, I think as GGK throughout his career(basically since Tigana, and Al-Rassan) he has gotten quite a bit less descriptive in his sex scenes. They are much shorter, less graphic, and do a better job of communicating the narrative. In my opinion this is an improvement the same way an author tightening up the writing of action scenes, to focus more on the stuff that is important to the narrative, and less on blow by blow combat details.
The worldbuilding in this is probably the most detailed, and rich, except for maybe Tigana. Except Tigana was in a book that is 50% longer. Fantastic job when it comes to the setting, his research paid off, and I believe this is the most time he spent researching for any of his novels.
It generally has a slightly tighter focus on 2 characters, with 1 clearly being the protagonist. GGK is still GGK, and he is still going to PoV hop, but this is a lot more focused on Shen Tai, and the Shen family then others.
Oh, and ya the characters are fantastic. Love the entire cast.
This book also explored the theme of how the women in this empire are able to take agency when the world has tried to strip it from them, and also this novel explores the rather optimistic theme of the value of altruism. Not just how it can help others, but how it can help the person being altruistic. The themes covered in this novel are too numerous to describe in a goodreads review though, but I thought the way they were explored was really interesting, and didn't intrude on the narrative, but added to it.
9.4/10
February 1, 2011
How to Write Pretentious Historical Fiction
1. Start with an exceedingly slow build-up -- the more detail, the better. If your book is lengthier, people will assume it's more literary.
2. Choose an exotic time period and locale and evoke it wherever possible. Hopefully the fascinating food and clothing details will help your reader forget that there was no indoor plumbing. Then, proceed to superimpose all sorts of anachronistic qualities on your story to appeal to contemporary readers' fantasies and sensibilities -- empowered women, sensitive men, etc.
2. Make sure your hero/heroine is a Mary Sue:
a. Men should be strong and macho, feared and/or respected by those around them. These men should also have a sensitive side -- they sense all kinds of subtle things about the people around them, and treat their women surprisingly well considering the mores of the time (which we'll relegate to the back burner along with the lack of indoor plumbing). A little self-doubt on your hero's part can be a good thing, but it should never interfere with his behaving in a confident and forthright manner.
b. Women should be attractive and feisty, strong-willed but always in an endearing way. Every man the heroine meets secretly lusts after her. The hero will probably rescue her at least once from one of her drooling or bullying admirers.
3. You can enhance your hero or heroine's Mary Sue-ness by writing in the third person omniscient and giving all the peripheral characters (of which there are many, of course) admiring thoughts about them.
4. Characters' inner thoughts can also be peppered with historical details you want to share with your readers -- why let all that research go to waste?
5. Plot? You're worried about plot? Oh, please. With all these other accoutrements, your book can simply proceed along formulaic Harlequin lines. Give your character a quest of some kind, and/or a secret role in some political intrigue. Shroud this in details and complications so readers get distracted from any plot holes. Don't forget the love story and lots of steamy scenes.
6. Try to manipulate your readers' emotions wherever possible. All children must be precocious and consistently cute; bonus points if they break your reader's heart by dying. Include some wise and saintly characters who can also be killed off. There should be at least one scene where your hero or heroine rescues someone who's being abused or bullied in some way.
7. Villains should be as evil as possible. They are usually ugly and off-putting, although they may be deceptively attractive. All your characters should hate them, unless they're hitching their wagon to them.
8. If you need inspiration, there seems to be no shortage of books of this nature to serve as models. And they tend to have really high goodreads ratings!
1. Start with an exceedingly slow build-up -- the more detail, the better. If your book is lengthier, people will assume it's more literary.
2. Choose an exotic time period and locale and evoke it wherever possible. Hopefully the fascinating food and clothing details will help your reader forget that there was no indoor plumbing. Then, proceed to superimpose all sorts of anachronistic qualities on your story to appeal to contemporary readers' fantasies and sensibilities -- empowered women, sensitive men, etc.
2. Make sure your hero/heroine is a Mary Sue:
a. Men should be strong and macho, feared and/or respected by those around them. These men should also have a sensitive side -- they sense all kinds of subtle things about the people around them, and treat their women surprisingly well considering the mores of the time (which we'll relegate to the back burner along with the lack of indoor plumbing). A little self-doubt on your hero's part can be a good thing, but it should never interfere with his behaving in a confident and forthright manner.
b. Women should be attractive and feisty, strong-willed but always in an endearing way. Every man the heroine meets secretly lusts after her. The hero will probably rescue her at least once from one of her drooling or bullying admirers.
3. You can enhance your hero or heroine's Mary Sue-ness by writing in the third person omniscient and giving all the peripheral characters (of which there are many, of course) admiring thoughts about them.
4. Characters' inner thoughts can also be peppered with historical details you want to share with your readers -- why let all that research go to waste?
5. Plot? You're worried about plot? Oh, please. With all these other accoutrements, your book can simply proceed along formulaic Harlequin lines. Give your character a quest of some kind, and/or a secret role in some political intrigue. Shroud this in details and complications so readers get distracted from any plot holes. Don't forget the love story and lots of steamy scenes.
6. Try to manipulate your readers' emotions wherever possible. All children must be precocious and consistently cute; bonus points if they break your reader's heart by dying. Include some wise and saintly characters who can also be killed off. There should be at least one scene where your hero or heroine rescues someone who's being abused or bullied in some way.
7. Villains should be as evil as possible. They are usually ugly and off-putting, although they may be deceptively attractive. All your characters should hate them, unless they're hitching their wagon to them.
8. If you need inspiration, there seems to be no shortage of books of this nature to serve as models. And they tend to have really high goodreads ratings!
April 28, 2019
Just perfect!
July 19, 2019
“It is not always a good thing to be noticed.”
Every dirty trick the writers know to break their readers’ hearts has been employed in this book. And then repeated for a good measure.
I still cannot decide whether Mr Kay is a historian who thought it would be good to become a writer or a writer who’d like to be a historian when he grows up. Either way, he is a master of historical fantasy; those tales with only a dash of supernatural here and there, stories whose magic relies solely on the bardic magnetism of the teller.
I might have loved “Under Heaven” because it was staggeringly similar to “Sailing to Sarantium” which is one of my favourite books by Mr Kay. The Middle East has been replaced by the Far East, but the general shape of the empire and its intrigues, and heroes is very similar. Perhaps you’ll be more inclined to count it against the novel, but I was really happy (almost right to the very end).
If “Under Heaven” had the sweet flavour of homecoming, it was firstly because of Mr Kay’s mastery of language: sublime, intimate, at times poetic but always elegant, never veering near the purple prose so many of us detest. If you want to know what is this book like, imagine a meticulously groomed oriental garden with not even one stone out of place; balanced and yet not obvious composition of various elements that remain in aesthetic harmony. Reading “Under Heaven” is like a stroll through this garden.
“There comes a point when life is not worth enduring if one steps back.”
The novel owes a lot to its main protagonist, Shen Tai. Tai is courteous, otherwise not typically handsome; rather arresting with deep-set eyes, the most distinctive trait about him. But Tai makes up for his average looks with rich personality which makes him a protagonist that is both easy to bond with and also memorable in the fantasy crowd of young males.
Tai is an unprepossessing figure and has everything that comes with being a middle brother. He does not have this invisible mantle of superiority so typical for the eldest, and yet he is not the coddled junior. Something in between, something observant and insightful, something non-conformist. There are so many strands in Tai: a scholar, a warrior, a poet, an ascetic and a young, virile man - it is difficult to pin him down and label appropriately. He cannot do it himself, trying and abandoning one career after another only to eventually end up where no other human had the balls to go. And doing this in a rather noncommittal manner. But also, there is a lot of anger in Tai and he will need this rage to push him through what Kay hurls at him from the very first chapter. In short, Tai is given a magnanimous but difficult gift that puts his life at risk. There is also someone who wants him dead for reasons unknown. These two things might or might not be related to each other and as Tai sets off to settle both issues, a wider tale unfolds branching out and encompassing a wider array of characters of which some will be granted their own POVs.
“The world could bring you poison in a jewelled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn’t now which of them it was.”
I said it before, so I’ll only briefly reiterate here on the importance of artisans in Kay’s novels. “Under Heaven” is not an exception to this rule and the Banished Immortal, one of the greatest poets of the Dynasty will be one of the key (unorthodox) figures here showing that “sometimes poetry gave you new, dangerous ideas” and yet that it is a difficult thing to actually live the poems.
And then there are the women.
I don’t know if there is anyone I value more for the way they write women. Kay is a genius.
I am not sure which one impressed me more: The exotic courtesan Spring Rain or the Precious Consort Wen Jian, a concubine but also in many respects the uncrowned empress doing more ruling than the person who is nominally the head and heart of the state. Wei Song, a Kanlin Warrior (think sexy ninja) but more than just a girl with a blade or Tai’s sister, Li-Mei, another strand in this story, a personification of courage and perseverance.
It does not mean that I agree with all of their attitudes, behaviours and choices (some choices remain a total mystery to me but equally, all were an inspiration of sorts. Most importantly, all of them (Wei Song including, even if she is able to fight 6 opponents at once and doesn’t sweat) showcase traditionally feminine traits (emotional intelligence, seduction, subterfuge, etc.) and use them with lethal deftness. These women, seemingly helpless, show powerful strengths in many surprising ways. And even if most of what they do happens behind the scenes, it does not make them less powerful because of that.
What you will get in “Under Heaven” is palace intrigue, poetry, soldiers and courtesans, dark earthen magic, horses, civil wars, music, heartbreaks and assassinations, women more dangerous than naked blades and men fragile in their seats of power, slaughter and burned cities, and many shades of love.
“The world came to you, and you tried to make of it what you wanted it to be. If you broke upon rocks…you broke with your pride.”
Mostly, “Under Heaven” is about meeting life head-on, regardless of circumstances, but doing so with honour as only this can help us to shape the reality in a way that ultimately will give us inner peace. There is beauty, poetry and a large dose of melancholy in Shen Tai’s story. In spite of sadness that permeates the ambiance, “Under Heaven” is a fast and pleasant read, occasionally even funny in a subtly sarcastic way.
However, the last part of the novel disappointed me a bit. Mr Kay expands the perspective and becomes an omniscient narrator from beyond the veil of time, who shows how history is done and how what we find in the chronicles has nothing to do with what had really happened. There are some very sobering passages there. Simultaneously, the book loses pace. The finale definitely does not match the rest, feels disjointed and at odds with the remainder of the novel. If chapter 35 broke my heart twice or thrice (lost count, sorry), the following two barely made sense and the epilogue felt underwhelming.
In spite of these relatively minor shortcomings, I do recommend “Under Heaven” not only to the fans of ancient China or Mr Kay’s aficionados. While laced with sadness, the book is not as grimdark as The Chronicles of Unhewn Throne and ten thousand more compelling than other books that tried the oriental setting.
PS If you'd like to start your journey with Kay, try Tigana first or, if you are more historical-fiction minded reader, the Sarantine Mosaic duology set in Byzantium-like world: Sailing to Sarantium and Lord of Emperors.
The story continues in:
2. River of Stars ★★★☆☆
Every dirty trick the writers know to break their readers’ hearts has been employed in this book. And then repeated for a good measure.
I still cannot decide whether Mr Kay is a historian who thought it would be good to become a writer or a writer who’d like to be a historian when he grows up. Either way, he is a master of historical fantasy; those tales with only a dash of supernatural here and there, stories whose magic relies solely on the bardic magnetism of the teller.
I might have loved “Under Heaven” because it was staggeringly similar to “Sailing to Sarantium” which is one of my favourite books by Mr Kay. The Middle East has been replaced by the Far East, but the general shape of the empire and its intrigues, and heroes is very similar. Perhaps you’ll be more inclined to count it against the novel, but I was really happy (almost right to the very end).
If “Under Heaven” had the sweet flavour of homecoming, it was firstly because of Mr Kay’s mastery of language: sublime, intimate, at times poetic but always elegant, never veering near the purple prose so many of us detest. If you want to know what is this book like, imagine a meticulously groomed oriental garden with not even one stone out of place; balanced and yet not obvious composition of various elements that remain in aesthetic harmony. Reading “Under Heaven” is like a stroll through this garden.
“There comes a point when life is not worth enduring if one steps back.”
The novel owes a lot to its main protagonist, Shen Tai. Tai is courteous, otherwise not typically handsome; rather arresting with deep-set eyes, the most distinctive trait about him. But Tai makes up for his average looks with rich personality which makes him a protagonist that is both easy to bond with and also memorable in the fantasy crowd of young males.
Tai is an unprepossessing figure and has everything that comes with being a middle brother. He does not have this invisible mantle of superiority so typical for the eldest, and yet he is not the coddled junior. Something in between, something observant and insightful, something non-conformist. There are so many strands in Tai: a scholar, a warrior, a poet, an ascetic and a young, virile man - it is difficult to pin him down and label appropriately. He cannot do it himself, trying and abandoning one career after another only to eventually end up where no other human had the balls to go. And doing this in a rather noncommittal manner. But also, there is a lot of anger in Tai and he will need this rage to push him through what Kay hurls at him from the very first chapter. In short, Tai is given a magnanimous but difficult gift that puts his life at risk. There is also someone who wants him dead for reasons unknown. These two things might or might not be related to each other and as Tai sets off to settle both issues, a wider tale unfolds branching out and encompassing a wider array of characters of which some will be granted their own POVs.
“The world could bring you poison in a jewelled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn’t now which of them it was.”
I said it before, so I’ll only briefly reiterate here on the importance of artisans in Kay’s novels. “Under Heaven” is not an exception to this rule and the Banished Immortal, one of the greatest poets of the Dynasty will be one of the key (unorthodox) figures here showing that “sometimes poetry gave you new, dangerous ideas” and yet that it is a difficult thing to actually live the poems.
And then there are the women.
I don’t know if there is anyone I value more for the way they write women. Kay is a genius.
I am not sure which one impressed me more: The exotic courtesan Spring Rain or the Precious Consort Wen Jian, a concubine but also in many respects the uncrowned empress doing more ruling than the person who is nominally the head and heart of the state. Wei Song, a Kanlin Warrior (think sexy ninja) but more than just a girl with a blade or Tai’s sister, Li-Mei, another strand in this story, a personification of courage and perseverance.
It does not mean that I agree with all of their attitudes, behaviours and choices (some choices remain a total mystery to me but equally, all were an inspiration of sorts. Most importantly, all of them (Wei Song including, even if she is able to fight 6 opponents at once and doesn’t sweat) showcase traditionally feminine traits (emotional intelligence, seduction, subterfuge, etc.) and use them with lethal deftness. These women, seemingly helpless, show powerful strengths in many surprising ways. And even if most of what they do happens behind the scenes, it does not make them less powerful because of that.
What you will get in “Under Heaven” is palace intrigue, poetry, soldiers and courtesans, dark earthen magic, horses, civil wars, music, heartbreaks and assassinations, women more dangerous than naked blades and men fragile in their seats of power, slaughter and burned cities, and many shades of love.
“The world came to you, and you tried to make of it what you wanted it to be. If you broke upon rocks…you broke with your pride.”
Mostly, “Under Heaven” is about meeting life head-on, regardless of circumstances, but doing so with honour as only this can help us to shape the reality in a way that ultimately will give us inner peace. There is beauty, poetry and a large dose of melancholy in Shen Tai’s story. In spite of sadness that permeates the ambiance, “Under Heaven” is a fast and pleasant read, occasionally even funny in a subtly sarcastic way.
However, the last part of the novel disappointed me a bit. Mr Kay expands the perspective and becomes an omniscient narrator from beyond the veil of time, who shows how history is done and how what we find in the chronicles has nothing to do with what had really happened. There are some very sobering passages there. Simultaneously, the book loses pace. The finale definitely does not match the rest, feels disjointed and at odds with the remainder of the novel. If chapter 35 broke my heart twice or thrice (lost count, sorry), the following two barely made sense and the epilogue felt underwhelming.
In spite of these relatively minor shortcomings, I do recommend “Under Heaven” not only to the fans of ancient China or Mr Kay’s aficionados. While laced with sadness, the book is not as grimdark as The Chronicles of Unhewn Throne and ten thousand more compelling than other books that tried the oriental setting.
PS If you'd like to start your journey with Kay, try Tigana first or, if you are more historical-fiction minded reader, the Sarantine Mosaic duology set in Byzantium-like world: Sailing to Sarantium and Lord of Emperors.
The story continues in:
2. River of Stars ★★★☆☆
June 7, 2023
Mi-a plăcut foarte mult, recomand și audiobook-ul. I love it
November 21, 2019
Whenever I read a modern Kay novel, I always struggle trying to classify them.
In all normal respects, they read like classic historical novels set in culturally lush times, peppered with rich characterizations, and steeped in really classy, nearly (or fully) poetical language.
But this ISN'T a novel of the Chinese Tang Dynasty. It may feel like it, read like it, and have a truly heartbreaking setup that seems rather unique to the period, but it ISN'T historical fiction.
It is fantasy. Plain and simple. Made up era, made up world, (even tho it has a moon quite like ours), and enough references to make it FEEL like its a history we ought to KNOW.
And that isn't a problem, per se, but it's only fantasy in the worldbuilding. No magic. Just a fully realized world.
And this is very much a beautiful world. Saying anything more would still do it not enough justice.
I personally prefer a bit more magic in my fantasies, but that's only MY preference. I really loved the characters and the rambling progression of plot. Who knew that getting a gift of 250 horses for performing an act of charity for the dead could bring one SO MUCH TROUBLE?
In all normal respects, they read like classic historical novels set in culturally lush times, peppered with rich characterizations, and steeped in really classy, nearly (or fully) poetical language.
But this ISN'T a novel of the Chinese Tang Dynasty. It may feel like it, read like it, and have a truly heartbreaking setup that seems rather unique to the period, but it ISN'T historical fiction.
It is fantasy. Plain and simple. Made up era, made up world, (even tho it has a moon quite like ours), and enough references to make it FEEL like its a history we ought to KNOW.
And that isn't a problem, per se, but it's only fantasy in the worldbuilding. No magic. Just a fully realized world.
And this is very much a beautiful world. Saying anything more would still do it not enough justice.
I personally prefer a bit more magic in my fantasies, but that's only MY preference. I really loved the characters and the rambling progression of plot. Who knew that getting a gift of 250 horses for performing an act of charity for the dead could bring one SO MUCH TROUBLE?
August 17, 2014
Guy Gavriel Kay gives us a fantasized historical fiction of Tang China. What does that mean exactly? A little hard to explain. It feels very authentically like 8th century China complete with the Great Wall keeping the Bogu (barbarian) tribes at bay, the Capital Xinan, and the politics and intrigues of the Imperial court. Then throw in an element of the supernatural/preternatural, with restless ghosts and wandering undead.
After the death of the honoured General Shen Gao, his son, Shen Tai our main protagonist, undergoes his two year mourning period at the battlefield where his father won a great victory. Countless dead from his father's battle as well as battles before lie unburied under the stars, their ghosts wailing night after night. To honour his father's memory, Shen Tai spends his days burying the bones of friend and foe alike, silencing screams one tormented soul at a time.
Before Shen Tai is due to return home, the enemy side honour his service with a gift of such value that it has the potential to threaten the balance of power at the Imperial court.
Kay's prose was superb as I expected from reading which is the only other Kay book I've read. This book is a slow burn with all the dramatic tension driven by political intrigue. I though the plot dragged in the second half and in a story where as much is conveyed by what is not said, and what is not done the climax points were a little too understated. I also wish there was either more focus on the fantasy elements or no fantasy elements at all. It could read just as well as a straight up historical fiction, but at times felt like it didn't know what it wanted to be.
I liked better but that's more personal taste. At the end of the day, the characters in this book were well crafted, the setting authentic, and the writing superb. I'm giving this one
4 stars.
Tigana review
After the death of the honoured General Shen Gao, his son, Shen Tai our main protagonist, undergoes his two year mourning period at the battlefield where his father won a great victory. Countless dead from his father's battle as well as battles before lie unburied under the stars, their ghosts wailing night after night. To honour his father's memory, Shen Tai spends his days burying the bones of friend and foe alike, silencing screams one tormented soul at a time.
Before Shen Tai is due to return home, the enemy side honour his service with a gift of such value that it has the potential to threaten the balance of power at the Imperial court.
Kay's prose was superb as I expected from reading which is the only other Kay book I've read. This book is a slow burn with all the dramatic tension driven by political intrigue. I though the plot dragged in the second half and in a story where as much is conveyed by what is not said, and what is not done the climax points were a little too understated. I also wish there was either more focus on the fantasy elements or no fantasy elements at all. It could read just as well as a straight up historical fiction, but at times felt like it didn't know what it wanted to be.
I liked better but that's more personal taste. At the end of the day, the characters in this book were well crafted, the setting authentic, and the writing superb. I'm giving this one
4 stars.
Tigana review
December 7, 2022
Tang.
What the astronauts drink?
NO! The Tang Dynasty, the empire that ruled ancient China for about three hundred years between 618 and 907 AD.
Is that what this book is about?
Well, sort of. Canadian writer Guy Gabriel Kay has crafted a fictional, fantastic setting based upon what the Tang dynasty may have been like, except he creates this as an alternate history of subtle magical / paranormal elements and political courtly intrigue.
Do tell.
So Shen Tai is a nobleman’s son and following the death of his illustrious and famous father, he goes to an old battleground and spends two years of his required mourning by burying the dead bones of both armies. In doing so, he not only gains the trust and admiration of his own country, but also of the neighboring empire (what may be akin to the Tibetan empire of that same time). The neighboring empress, who is actually from Shen Tai’s country, promises him a gift of 250 Sardian horses, an extravagant present for that time, and decrees that he must accept the horses himself and in person. This is actually crucial because otherwise his life may be in jeopardy. What follows is an adventure as Shen Tai seeks to not only retrieve the horses but to also honor his family, and stay alive.
We also get to know a host of colorful characters including Shen Tai’s sister who has been betrothed to what may equate to a Mongolian prince, up north above the wall. Except the prince has a brother with a curse and there are ghosts, a warrior poet and a just a lot of goings on that keeps the pages turning.
The real hero here is Kay and his exceptional writing. He demonstrates his talent on every page and for a fantasy book, this was very, very good. His knack for drawing fantasy stories based upon historical fiction is something to behold and I’ll read more from him.
What the astronauts drink?
NO! The Tang Dynasty, the empire that ruled ancient China for about three hundred years between 618 and 907 AD.
Is that what this book is about?
Well, sort of. Canadian writer Guy Gabriel Kay has crafted a fictional, fantastic setting based upon what the Tang dynasty may have been like, except he creates this as an alternate history of subtle magical / paranormal elements and political courtly intrigue.
Do tell.
So Shen Tai is a nobleman’s son and following the death of his illustrious and famous father, he goes to an old battleground and spends two years of his required mourning by burying the dead bones of both armies. In doing so, he not only gains the trust and admiration of his own country, but also of the neighboring empire (what may be akin to the Tibetan empire of that same time). The neighboring empress, who is actually from Shen Tai’s country, promises him a gift of 250 Sardian horses, an extravagant present for that time, and decrees that he must accept the horses himself and in person. This is actually crucial because otherwise his life may be in jeopardy. What follows is an adventure as Shen Tai seeks to not only retrieve the horses but to also honor his family, and stay alive.
We also get to know a host of colorful characters including Shen Tai’s sister who has been betrothed to what may equate to a Mongolian prince, up north above the wall. Except the prince has a brother with a curse and there are ghosts, a warrior poet and a just a lot of goings on that keeps the pages turning.
The real hero here is Kay and his exceptional writing. He demonstrates his talent on every page and for a fantasy book, this was very, very good. His knack for drawing fantasy stories based upon historical fiction is something to behold and I’ll read more from him.
June 4, 2023
G.G. Kay has written some truly wonderful fantasy books, most based on real life history transmuted into a fantasy setting. He does it again with a story based on the Tang Dynasty of 800 AD China.
Shen Tai is the second son of the famous General Shen Gao. During a mission on the other side of the Great Wall, Shen Tai encounters supernatural events that shake his belief in the everyday teachings of the Kitai Imperial Court. He sees Meshag, son of the Bogu (think Mongols) Khan, undergo a strange ritual and possible freedom from possession by evil spirits. Shaken by the events, Shen Tai is able to prevent Meshag's transformation. Disturbed, Shen Tai goes to study with the famed warrior-assassins of the Stone Drum Mountain known as the Kanlin.
The story then picks up a few years later when Shen Tai, now a reclusive hermit, is busy burying the bones of the dead on the battlefield of Kuala Nor. Shen Tai buries both the dead of Kitai and the dead soldiers of the Tagur Empire (based on the Indian imperial families of the Deccan Peninsula). His actions bring him renown and respect from both sides. Gifted with two hundred and fifty horses of a much sought-after breed, his life changes.
Shen Tai must now reenter the treacherous world of Imperial politics, as he finds a massive conspiracy in the heart of the Kitai Court. Taizu, the Emperor of Heaven, Emperor of Kitai is growing old and the vultures are circling. Someone from the court has sent assassins to kill Shen Tai. Among the list of suspects is Wen Zhou, First Minister of Kitai, and even his older brother, Shen Liu who is a mandarin in service to Wen Zhou.
What follows is a complex and richly detailed story that was truly enjoyable to read. The setting based on the Tang Empire is very well done and the story lacks for nothing- from fights to imperial intrigue, humor, and some great characters like Wei Song, a female Kanlin warrior assigned to protect Shen Tai, to Sima Zian, a famous poet known as the Banished Immortal.
As this is the first book, I shall absolutely be grabbing the second book to find out more. If you enjoy historical based fantasy, then you will appreciate Kay's book based on the Tang Empire.
Shen Tai is the second son of the famous General Shen Gao. During a mission on the other side of the Great Wall, Shen Tai encounters supernatural events that shake his belief in the everyday teachings of the Kitai Imperial Court. He sees Meshag, son of the Bogu (think Mongols) Khan, undergo a strange ritual and possible freedom from possession by evil spirits. Shaken by the events, Shen Tai is able to prevent Meshag's transformation. Disturbed, Shen Tai goes to study with the famed warrior-assassins of the Stone Drum Mountain known as the Kanlin.
The story then picks up a few years later when Shen Tai, now a reclusive hermit, is busy burying the bones of the dead on the battlefield of Kuala Nor. Shen Tai buries both the dead of Kitai and the dead soldiers of the Tagur Empire (based on the Indian imperial families of the Deccan Peninsula). His actions bring him renown and respect from both sides. Gifted with two hundred and fifty horses of a much sought-after breed, his life changes.
Shen Tai must now reenter the treacherous world of Imperial politics, as he finds a massive conspiracy in the heart of the Kitai Court. Taizu, the Emperor of Heaven, Emperor of Kitai is growing old and the vultures are circling. Someone from the court has sent assassins to kill Shen Tai. Among the list of suspects is Wen Zhou, First Minister of Kitai, and even his older brother, Shen Liu who is a mandarin in service to Wen Zhou.
What follows is a complex and richly detailed story that was truly enjoyable to read. The setting based on the Tang Empire is very well done and the story lacks for nothing- from fights to imperial intrigue, humor, and some great characters like Wei Song, a female Kanlin warrior assigned to protect Shen Tai, to Sima Zian, a famous poet known as the Banished Immortal.
As this is the first book, I shall absolutely be grabbing the second book to find out more. If you enjoy historical based fantasy, then you will appreciate Kay's book based on the Tang Empire.
October 22, 2019
After (a novel I didn't like), I took a long, much needed break from the writing of .
I bought , but it languishes on my bookshelf even now. I avoided until it became our fantasy book in the Sci-Fi & Fantasy Book club. Once it won the vote, I thought it might be time to return to Kay.
I was a third into the book when my daughter, Scoutie, booknapped it and hid it under the love seat in the Sun Room. It resurfaced while we were vaccuuming, but by then my book club had outstripped me, and their comments suggested that the rest of the book was a let down. I let it sit for a few more days for fear I would be let down too, and I may have been if not for the pause.
Reading the comments in the book discussions and flirting with a couple of my friends' reviews (I've not read any in detail yet) prepared me for disappointment, and because of that preparation the disappointment never came.
I expected to be disappointed when it was revealed who sent assassins to kill Shen Tai and why, but I wasn't disappointed. I expected to be disappointed by the way each thread in the story touched others in the story, the way everything wove tightly together, but I wasn't. I expected to be disappointed by the resolutions of machinations and intrigues, but I wasn't. I found that by expecting to be disappointed I was released from disappointment, and I feel like that release gave me a way into the book that I wouldn't have had otherwise.
I would have expected the more traditional Kay narrative of big armies and big wars and heroic battles playing out in our faces or the little battles playing out on the periphery, but I was freed of that expectation and was able to luxuriate in the simplicity of this tale. I think that's what Kay was trying to achieve with -- simplicity. It was in his prose. His prose was as adjective free as it has ever been, moreso, and there was an immediacy born of that simplicity that worked for me. And the poetry of Kitai was just as simple. Another reflection of Kay's purpose, I imagine.
Moreover, that simplicity went further than just the words Kay chose. This simplicity defined the plot and action. We've come to expect complicated motivations from Kay, but here the motivations were the most mundane (disappointingly so for many); we've come to expect complicated emotions, emotional cross-purposes, but the emotions of Shen Tai and Wei Song and Le-Mei and Spring Rain and Sima Zian were only complex because of their simplicity. Many strands of this story appeared and hinted at great complexity then turned out to be tiny threads poking out of the tapestry merely needing to be trimmed. Simple in their messiness. But true.
I came to love this book by the end for its simplicity. I think it was what Kay was going for, but I can understand the disappointment of others. As I said, I think I'd have suffered from the disappointment too if circumstances had been different. But they weren't different. My circumstances were what they were, and they led me to love this book. I am glad for that, and sad for those who only met disappointment.
Finally, I thought the resolution, the ending at Kuala Nor was beautiful. Full circle. Honourable. And a sentiment I share with the men who put those ghosts to rest.
Years later ... I finished it a second time, and I felt the disappointment more distinctly but still ended up appreciating many of the simple things I did before. It's not my favourite Kay, but it is still worth a read.
I bought , but it languishes on my bookshelf even now. I avoided until it became our fantasy book in the Sci-Fi & Fantasy Book club. Once it won the vote, I thought it might be time to return to Kay.
I was a third into the book when my daughter, Scoutie, booknapped it and hid it under the love seat in the Sun Room. It resurfaced while we were vaccuuming, but by then my book club had outstripped me, and their comments suggested that the rest of the book was a let down. I let it sit for a few more days for fear I would be let down too, and I may have been if not for the pause.
Reading the comments in the book discussions and flirting with a couple of my friends' reviews (I've not read any in detail yet) prepared me for disappointment, and because of that preparation the disappointment never came.
I expected to be disappointed when it was revealed who sent assassins to kill Shen Tai and why, but I wasn't disappointed. I expected to be disappointed by the way each thread in the story touched others in the story, the way everything wove tightly together, but I wasn't. I expected to be disappointed by the resolutions of machinations and intrigues, but I wasn't. I found that by expecting to be disappointed I was released from disappointment, and I feel like that release gave me a way into the book that I wouldn't have had otherwise.
I would have expected the more traditional Kay narrative of big armies and big wars and heroic battles playing out in our faces or the little battles playing out on the periphery, but I was freed of that expectation and was able to luxuriate in the simplicity of this tale. I think that's what Kay was trying to achieve with -- simplicity. It was in his prose. His prose was as adjective free as it has ever been, moreso, and there was an immediacy born of that simplicity that worked for me. And the poetry of Kitai was just as simple. Another reflection of Kay's purpose, I imagine.
Moreover, that simplicity went further than just the words Kay chose. This simplicity defined the plot and action. We've come to expect complicated motivations from Kay, but here the motivations were the most mundane (disappointingly so for many); we've come to expect complicated emotions, emotional cross-purposes, but the emotions of Shen Tai and Wei Song and Le-Mei and Spring Rain and Sima Zian were only complex because of their simplicity. Many strands of this story appeared and hinted at great complexity then turned out to be tiny threads poking out of the tapestry merely needing to be trimmed. Simple in their messiness. But true.
I came to love this book by the end for its simplicity. I think it was what Kay was going for, but I can understand the disappointment of others. As I said, I think I'd have suffered from the disappointment too if circumstances had been different. But they weren't different. My circumstances were what they were, and they led me to love this book. I am glad for that, and sad for those who only met disappointment.
Finally, I thought the resolution, the ending at Kuala Nor was beautiful. Full circle. Honourable. And a sentiment I share with the men who put those ghosts to rest.
Years later ... I finished it a second time, and I felt the disappointment more distinctly but still ended up appreciating many of the simple things I did before. It's not my favourite Kay, but it is still worth a read.
November 27, 2010
ORIGINALLY POSTED AT .
Guy Gavriel Kay’s latest historical fantasy, Under Heaven, is gorgeous. If you’re already a fan of GGK, you know exactly what kind of delight you’re in for. Under Heaven is every bit as wonderful as Tigana, A Song for Arbonne, and The Last Light of the Sun. Every bit.
Under Heaven takes place in Kitai — an alternate Tang Dynasty (but not so alternate that you won’t recognize the names of many of the characters if you read just a brief history of the Tang Dynasty). The civilization and culture is experiencing a golden age and family honor is one of the highest ideals. Shen Tai, in order to honor his dead father, has spent two solitary years burying the bones — and silencing the ghosts — of thousands of men who died in a battle between Kitai and neighboring Tagur. Just as his mourning period is about to end, three strange things happen almost simultaneously: a friend shows up with urgent news from the capital city Xinan, an assassin is sent to kill Shen Tai, and the princess of Tagur gives Shen Tai 250 Sardian horses — an incomprehensibly valuable gift that instantly catapults him to the highest ranks of Xinan society. Now Shen Tai must journey back to Xinan, he’s got assassins on his tail, he doesn’t know who he can trust, and he has no idea that war is brewing and his return may be the catalyst.
I’ve already said that Under Heaven is just as gorgeous as Kay’s previous historical fantasies: It’s well-researched, carefully constructed, tightly plotted, and beautifully written. The mingling of the real and the magical is delicate — there are no wizards or wands, but just the acknowledgment of the existence of the supernatural and the weird. Most impressively, GGK’s work is always full of poetry, passion, and life. His characters, those who play major roles and minor ones, feel like real people and, whether we like them or not, we come to understand their histories, motivations, frustrations, and desires. We smile when they laugh, our hearts race when they’re afraid, and we cry when they mourn.
Another feature that sets Kay’s historical fantasies apart from others is his ability to completely immerse us in a real culture without telling us that he’s doing so. Some historical writers feel the need to drop names, exposit, and lecture. In contrast, Guy Gavriel Kay brings a historical period to life without making us feel like we’re reading a textbook or that we’re required to admire his research and knowledge. Since we spend most of our time in Mr. Kay’s characters’ heads, I also appreciate that these characters are all fictional (Mr. Kay explains why he does it this way in the introduction and I completely agree with his philosophy).
I read Penguin Audio’s version of Under Heaven, narrated by Simon Vance. For years Mr. Vance has been one of my favorite narrators, and he’s wonderful here, as usual. If you’re an audiobook reader, you’ll definitely want to try this version read by the incomparable Mr. Vance. Regardless, you don’t want to miss Under Heaven — it may be the best fantasy novel of 2010.
Guy Gavriel Kay’s latest historical fantasy, Under Heaven, is gorgeous. If you’re already a fan of GGK, you know exactly what kind of delight you’re in for. Under Heaven is every bit as wonderful as Tigana, A Song for Arbonne, and The Last Light of the Sun. Every bit.
Under Heaven takes place in Kitai — an alternate Tang Dynasty (but not so alternate that you won’t recognize the names of many of the characters if you read just a brief history of the Tang Dynasty). The civilization and culture is experiencing a golden age and family honor is one of the highest ideals. Shen Tai, in order to honor his dead father, has spent two solitary years burying the bones — and silencing the ghosts — of thousands of men who died in a battle between Kitai and neighboring Tagur. Just as his mourning period is about to end, three strange things happen almost simultaneously: a friend shows up with urgent news from the capital city Xinan, an assassin is sent to kill Shen Tai, and the princess of Tagur gives Shen Tai 250 Sardian horses — an incomprehensibly valuable gift that instantly catapults him to the highest ranks of Xinan society. Now Shen Tai must journey back to Xinan, he’s got assassins on his tail, he doesn’t know who he can trust, and he has no idea that war is brewing and his return may be the catalyst.
I’ve already said that Under Heaven is just as gorgeous as Kay’s previous historical fantasies: It’s well-researched, carefully constructed, tightly plotted, and beautifully written. The mingling of the real and the magical is delicate — there are no wizards or wands, but just the acknowledgment of the existence of the supernatural and the weird. Most impressively, GGK’s work is always full of poetry, passion, and life. His characters, those who play major roles and minor ones, feel like real people and, whether we like them or not, we come to understand their histories, motivations, frustrations, and desires. We smile when they laugh, our hearts race when they’re afraid, and we cry when they mourn.
Another feature that sets Kay’s historical fantasies apart from others is his ability to completely immerse us in a real culture without telling us that he’s doing so. Some historical writers feel the need to drop names, exposit, and lecture. In contrast, Guy Gavriel Kay brings a historical period to life without making us feel like we’re reading a textbook or that we’re required to admire his research and knowledge. Since we spend most of our time in Mr. Kay’s characters’ heads, I also appreciate that these characters are all fictional (Mr. Kay explains why he does it this way in the introduction and I completely agree with his philosophy).
I read Penguin Audio’s version of Under Heaven, narrated by Simon Vance. For years Mr. Vance has been one of my favorite narrators, and he’s wonderful here, as usual. If you’re an audiobook reader, you’ll definitely want to try this version read by the incomparable Mr. Vance. Regardless, you don’t want to miss Under Heaven — it may be the best fantasy novel of 2010.
June 14, 2024
4.0 Stars
This is a richly described piece of historical fantasy inspired by historical China. The prose is beautiful and so well crafted. I didn't personally connect with the story but I still deeply appreciated this one.
This is a richly described piece of historical fantasy inspired by historical China. The prose is beautiful and so well crafted. I didn't personally connect with the story but I still deeply appreciated this one.
February 13, 2021
A wondrous, rollicking adventure, on the order of 'Game of Thrones' except with solid story lines that converge, make sense, and resolve in satisfying ways. Like 'Game of Thrones', this is fantasy, in the sense that it is set in a fictional world, but with a realistic, ancient society, modeled on China of 400 BC or so. There are noble families, Mandarins, ninjas, and complex and deadly politics at the Emperor's court. Are these books written for men? Every woman in the book is young, beautiful, trained in pleasing men, and a prostitute, aspiring to the job of chief concubine. In that way the society is much like 'Gor.'
Also like 'Game of Thrones' (the first million words or so,) the fantasy element is unnecessary and minor. The hero, Tai, and the other characters are motivated by all the usual reasons, pride, greed, lust, survival, and duty. In fact it's a story about duty and honor, even though Tai comes through as one of few characters who is consistently honorable. For the publishing world, the insertion of minor fantasy elements is probably necessary, because without it the book would be rejected as a vivid but inaccurate telling of Chinese history. Once the fantasy element is added, even if it's just Wolfman Jack, then it's okay that the landscape, the names, and the dates don't match actual Chinese history. Publishers can't accept fiction that sounds like history, unless it has a ghost in it. 'Game of Thrones' fits the same niche for fake English history. It would be disallowed if Martin didn't force in three dragons and a white walker. A book similar in every way, but with the fantasy element missing in favor of historical accuracy is 'Shogun' by James Clavell. (Or 'Taipan' by the same.)
Also like 'Game of Thrones' (the first million words or so,) the fantasy element is unnecessary and minor. The hero, Tai, and the other characters are motivated by all the usual reasons, pride, greed, lust, survival, and duty. In fact it's a story about duty and honor, even though Tai comes through as one of few characters who is consistently honorable. For the publishing world, the insertion of minor fantasy elements is probably necessary, because without it the book would be rejected as a vivid but inaccurate telling of Chinese history. Once the fantasy element is added, even if it's just Wolfman Jack, then it's okay that the landscape, the names, and the dates don't match actual Chinese history. Publishers can't accept fiction that sounds like history, unless it has a ghost in it. 'Game of Thrones' fits the same niche for fake English history. It would be disallowed if Martin didn't force in three dragons and a white walker. A book similar in every way, but with the fantasy element missing in favor of historical accuracy is 'Shogun' by James Clavell. (Or 'Taipan' by the same.)
December 11, 2014
I wanted to read this for a long time.
Story starts with Shen Tai being gifted 250 Sardian horses (a very valuable breed) by a Tagur (a rival kingdom) princess for his work of burying the dead of a great battle between the kingdoms of Kitai and Tagur. Shen Tai had been doing this in memory of his father. On his last day (after two years of burying the dead), Shen Tai faces an assassination attempt by a Kanlin Warrior (trained and most feared warriors). Somehow Shen Tai survives this attempt. Bytsan sri Nespo, a soldier of the rival army who bring him the news of 250 sardian horses gift, makes a plan that only Shen Tai can retrieve the horses from the Tagur border. Shen Tai begins his journey to his Kitai emperor to let him know about the gift. After reaching the capital Shen Tai finds himself right in the middle of a power struggle, a battle of jealousy between two most powerful man in the empire and the impending danger of a rebellion.
“The world could bring you poison in a jewelled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn't know which of them it was.”
More than fantasy it is a historical fiction. GGK is a master of storytelling. The way he explains events is simply beautiful. He takes his time telling about the background of the events and what led to these events. His graceful writing and lyrical prose is very engrossing till the very end.
GGK’s stories are so different from other fantasies that I’ve read. Characters full of bravery, love, deception and compassion. His characters are very simple and the words he choose to describe them are exceptional.
Other strong point of this story is its world building. GGK definitely does a thorough research about the world he is about to create in his books.
It is not but still it is a very gorgeous work.
Story starts with Shen Tai being gifted 250 Sardian horses (a very valuable breed) by a Tagur (a rival kingdom) princess for his work of burying the dead of a great battle between the kingdoms of Kitai and Tagur. Shen Tai had been doing this in memory of his father. On his last day (after two years of burying the dead), Shen Tai faces an assassination attempt by a Kanlin Warrior (trained and most feared warriors). Somehow Shen Tai survives this attempt. Bytsan sri Nespo, a soldier of the rival army who bring him the news of 250 sardian horses gift, makes a plan that only Shen Tai can retrieve the horses from the Tagur border. Shen Tai begins his journey to his Kitai emperor to let him know about the gift. After reaching the capital Shen Tai finds himself right in the middle of a power struggle, a battle of jealousy between two most powerful man in the empire and the impending danger of a rebellion.
“The world could bring you poison in a jewelled cup, or surprising gifts. Sometimes you didn't know which of them it was.”
More than fantasy it is a historical fiction. GGK is a master of storytelling. The way he explains events is simply beautiful. He takes his time telling about the background of the events and what led to these events. His graceful writing and lyrical prose is very engrossing till the very end.
GGK’s stories are so different from other fantasies that I’ve read. Characters full of bravery, love, deception and compassion. His characters are very simple and the words he choose to describe them are exceptional.
Other strong point of this story is its world building. GGK definitely does a thorough research about the world he is about to create in his books.
It is not but still it is a very gorgeous work.
September 22, 2023
Different from Kay, yet no less captivating.
With Under Heaven, I was particularly struck by his unmatched ability to make a book grow until you start realising it is much better than you previously thought. In fact, I spent much of the first half of the book wondering if I should simply put it down (out of a general lack of interest). Then, at the halfway point, Kay shot in just about the best political intrigue scene I have encountered in speculative fiction, and it did not just make the book better from there on out; it made me question my own judgement and accept that in all seriousness the book had been a gem from the start.
With Under Heaven, I was particularly struck by his unmatched ability to make a book grow until you start realising it is much better than you previously thought. In fact, I spent much of the first half of the book wondering if I should simply put it down (out of a general lack of interest). Then, at the halfway point, Kay shot in just about the best political intrigue scene I have encountered in speculative fiction, and it did not just make the book better from there on out; it made me question my own judgement and accept that in all seriousness the book had been a gem from the start.
December 4, 2019
Condividere lo stesso cielo
" Un uomo doveva fare tutto quello che poteva per plasmare la propria pace, prima di passare alla notte lasciandosi il mondo alle spalle, il destino di tutti gli uomini, per essere dimenticato o ricordato, secondo quanto avrebbero decretato il tempo e l'amore."
"Il modo in cui ricordiamo cambia il modo in cui abbiamo vissuto. Il tempo scorre in entrambi i sensi. Facciamo storie delle nostre vite."
Guy Gavriel Kay è il classico scrittore che il tempo e il sistematico martellamento dei soliti noti nell'empireo delle librerie (Troisi, Brooks, Rowling, Tolkien, Martin, Ende) hanno lentamente coperto sotto una coltre di polvere. Cifra stilistica de La rinascita di Shen Tai, e più in generale di tutta la sua produzione portata in Italia tra gli anni '80 e '90, risulta il taglio introspettivo e profondamente poetico che ammanta la prosa e tutti i personaggi chiamati a danzare sotto i Nove Cieli dell'imperatore Taizu, in Cina, al tempo della Dinastia Tang.
Ed è proprio il worldbuilding, atipico e poco proposto all'interno del genere, a calamitare inesorabilmente l'attenzione del lettore. L'approfondimento certosino e minuzioso del contesto storico, indubbiamente un pregio per l'economia narrativa del romanzo, può paradossalmente configurarsi come difetto, se si considera l'effettiva utilità del sovrannaturale - la componente fantastica - innestata nel tessuto narrativo: i lettori puristi potrebbero rischiare di ritrovarsi tra le mani un romanzo quasi ascrivibile alla categoria "storici".
Assodato che il taglio corale non risulti completamente riuscito per alcune mancanze - la sottotrama di Li-Mei, importante nell'arco centrale e poi ripescata un po' così al termine; la clamorosa assenza della Principessa di Giada Cheng-Wan (donatrice dei cavalli sardiani) - nonché una certa frettolosità ravvisabile tra capitolo finale ed epilogo, la storia di Kay è un vivido caleidoscopio di esistenze che si avvicendano durante l'incedere del tempo; il più delle volte soffocate da rimorsi per scelte effettuate o costrette a indossare una maschera per sopravvivere all'interno di una società che non fa sconti né concede seconde possibilità.
I momenti di riscatto, non per forza veicolati dall'onnipresente senso dell'onore che detta regole e protocolli all'interno del Kitai, sono bivi che portano a decisioni capaci di elevare l'uomo rispetto al proprio passato; a diventare finanche un esempio al cospetto della storia.
In questa valorizzazione dell'individuo, responsabilizzato negli ideali propugnati e le azioni perseguite, risiede la bellezza di un romanzo come La rinascita di Shen Tai.
" Un uomo doveva fare tutto quello che poteva per plasmare la propria pace, prima di passare alla notte lasciandosi il mondo alle spalle, il destino di tutti gli uomini, per essere dimenticato o ricordato, secondo quanto avrebbero decretato il tempo e l'amore."
"Il modo in cui ricordiamo cambia il modo in cui abbiamo vissuto. Il tempo scorre in entrambi i sensi. Facciamo storie delle nostre vite."
Guy Gavriel Kay è il classico scrittore che il tempo e il sistematico martellamento dei soliti noti nell'empireo delle librerie (Troisi, Brooks, Rowling, Tolkien, Martin, Ende) hanno lentamente coperto sotto una coltre di polvere. Cifra stilistica de La rinascita di Shen Tai, e più in generale di tutta la sua produzione portata in Italia tra gli anni '80 e '90, risulta il taglio introspettivo e profondamente poetico che ammanta la prosa e tutti i personaggi chiamati a danzare sotto i Nove Cieli dell'imperatore Taizu, in Cina, al tempo della Dinastia Tang.
Ed è proprio il worldbuilding, atipico e poco proposto all'interno del genere, a calamitare inesorabilmente l'attenzione del lettore. L'approfondimento certosino e minuzioso del contesto storico, indubbiamente un pregio per l'economia narrativa del romanzo, può paradossalmente configurarsi come difetto, se si considera l'effettiva utilità del sovrannaturale - la componente fantastica - innestata nel tessuto narrativo: i lettori puristi potrebbero rischiare di ritrovarsi tra le mani un romanzo quasi ascrivibile alla categoria "storici".
Assodato che il taglio corale non risulti completamente riuscito per alcune mancanze - la sottotrama di Li-Mei, importante nell'arco centrale e poi ripescata un po' così al termine; la clamorosa assenza della Principessa di Giada Cheng-Wan (donatrice dei cavalli sardiani) - nonché una certa frettolosità ravvisabile tra capitolo finale ed epilogo, la storia di Kay è un vivido caleidoscopio di esistenze che si avvicendano durante l'incedere del tempo; il più delle volte soffocate da rimorsi per scelte effettuate o costrette a indossare una maschera per sopravvivere all'interno di una società che non fa sconti né concede seconde possibilità.
I momenti di riscatto, non per forza veicolati dall'onnipresente senso dell'onore che detta regole e protocolli all'interno del Kitai, sono bivi che portano a decisioni capaci di elevare l'uomo rispetto al proprio passato; a diventare finanche un esempio al cospetto della storia.
In questa valorizzazione dell'individuo, responsabilizzato negli ideali propugnati e le azioni perseguite, risiede la bellezza di un romanzo come La rinascita di Shen Tai.
October 8, 2020
Il modo in cui ricordiamo cambia il modo in cui abbiamo vissuto.
Il tempo scorre in entrambi i sensi.Facciamo storie delle nostre vite.
Il tempo scorre in entrambi i sensi.Facciamo storie delle nostre vite.
May 7, 2019
"Because paths can and do fork, in ways no man or woman can ever truly grasp, for that is the way the world had been made."
Shen Tai is a young man who, for the past two years, has worked in near isolation in an effort to pay honor to his deceased father, a well-known former military commander, in a way that would’ve been meaningful to him in life. He has worked from dawn to dusk burying the bones of the dead soldiers – from both sides of the conflict – of one of his father’s last battles. He could never have known that such an act would alter the course of his life even as the Kitai empire, of which he is a loyal citizen, is set to be forever altered. Because when an unlooked for reward comes his way, his life path turns in directions he could never have foreseen.
I love the way that Kay writes books that feel like historical fiction with just a touch of fantasy. He has said that he uses the “prism of the fantastic to treat the matter of history” and no one does this quite as good as he does. His books are effortless to slip into because they feel so very much like our own world. This time around Kay invokes China’s great Tang Dynasty and the An Lushan rebellion. He does this by giving us the country of Kitai and the Imperial Court of Emperor Taizu, complete with all the behind-the-scenes machinations of courtiers and courtesans. It is a time when even the slightest misstep can give great offense, resulting in severe beatings or death. And as Tai attempts to navigate the politics that he’s been absent from for two years, we as readers are right there with him through it all.
Kay always manages to write smart, capable female characters and the women in this book are no exception. But whereas the women in, say, were given power and respect because of the society in which they lived, the women in this book live in a culture that views them as tools or as mere objects of desire. They have no overt power but they nevertheless manage to influence a great deal, often at great risk to their own lives. My only qualm with this book is that a potential love interest for Tai is a green-eyed blonde. In a world so obviously inspired by ancient China, the choice to make Tai pine for a woman who represents a western, Caucasian standard of beauty is both puzzling and annoying.
That one qualm aside, Kay continues to amaze me with the subtlety of his writing. Whereas many writers are verbose in their attempts to club readers over the head in obvious efforts to force emotional reactions, Kay subscribes to the “less is more” school of writing. He sets the scene through his skillful and efficient use of words trusting readers to read between the lines, to find the meanings in what is hinted at but left unsaid. For me, this makes for purer and more honest feelings because I don’t come away feeling emotionally manipulated.
This is now my eighth book by Guy Gavriel Kay. A few of us over at Fantasy Buddy Reads have been slowly making our way through Kay’s wonderful bibliography. I’ve loved some of his works more than others but each and every book has touched me in one way or another and I consider them all to be worthy of multiple rereads. This book is no exception. While I started out thinking that this wouldn’t end up being one of my favorite Kay books, that last 30% or so corrected that initial impression and I look forward to reading my next book by him.
"You did what you could to shape your own peace, before you crossed over to the night and left the world behind, as all men did, to be forgotten or remembered, as time or love allowed."
Shen Tai is a young man who, for the past two years, has worked in near isolation in an effort to pay honor to his deceased father, a well-known former military commander, in a way that would’ve been meaningful to him in life. He has worked from dawn to dusk burying the bones of the dead soldiers – from both sides of the conflict – of one of his father’s last battles. He could never have known that such an act would alter the course of his life even as the Kitai empire, of which he is a loyal citizen, is set to be forever altered. Because when an unlooked for reward comes his way, his life path turns in directions he could never have foreseen.
I love the way that Kay writes books that feel like historical fiction with just a touch of fantasy. He has said that he uses the “prism of the fantastic to treat the matter of history” and no one does this quite as good as he does. His books are effortless to slip into because they feel so very much like our own world. This time around Kay invokes China’s great Tang Dynasty and the An Lushan rebellion. He does this by giving us the country of Kitai and the Imperial Court of Emperor Taizu, complete with all the behind-the-scenes machinations of courtiers and courtesans. It is a time when even the slightest misstep can give great offense, resulting in severe beatings or death. And as Tai attempts to navigate the politics that he’s been absent from for two years, we as readers are right there with him through it all.
Kay always manages to write smart, capable female characters and the women in this book are no exception. But whereas the women in, say, were given power and respect because of the society in which they lived, the women in this book live in a culture that views them as tools or as mere objects of desire. They have no overt power but they nevertheless manage to influence a great deal, often at great risk to their own lives. My only qualm with this book is that a potential love interest for Tai is a green-eyed blonde. In a world so obviously inspired by ancient China, the choice to make Tai pine for a woman who represents a western, Caucasian standard of beauty is both puzzling and annoying.
That one qualm aside, Kay continues to amaze me with the subtlety of his writing. Whereas many writers are verbose in their attempts to club readers over the head in obvious efforts to force emotional reactions, Kay subscribes to the “less is more” school of writing. He sets the scene through his skillful and efficient use of words trusting readers to read between the lines, to find the meanings in what is hinted at but left unsaid. For me, this makes for purer and more honest feelings because I don’t come away feeling emotionally manipulated.
This is now my eighth book by Guy Gavriel Kay. A few of us over at Fantasy Buddy Reads have been slowly making our way through Kay’s wonderful bibliography. I’ve loved some of his works more than others but each and every book has touched me in one way or another and I consider them all to be worthy of multiple rereads. This book is no exception. While I started out thinking that this wouldn’t end up being one of my favorite Kay books, that last 30% or so corrected that initial impression and I look forward to reading my next book by him.
"You did what you could to shape your own peace, before you crossed over to the night and left the world behind, as all men did, to be forgotten or remembered, as time or love allowed."
October 29, 2015
In short: Kay promises a lot, but in the end he falls short to deliver.
A book always comes with expectations. General ones you have towards all books and specific ones for a particular one.
I read "Under heaven" with the "SciFi and Fantasy Book Club". I had not read anything by Guy Gavriel Kay before and didn't know what to expect. I was just curious and decided to give the Kindle sample a try.
I was imediately hooked. Poetic prose, slow and deliberate development of story and character, a familiar and yet exotic setting with hints of more to come. First signs of some supernatural forces, an assassin, an intrigue, political machinations, some fascinating characters, great suspense building. All that interwoven like an emerging tapestry.
I wanted to see this cloth woven, wanted to see the image developed. I bought the book. The expectations now were high.
And then something strange happened. All the strands that got me started, disappeared - one by one. All the promises made about mysterious intrigues, powerhungry politicians, and troubled characters vanished. Vanished in lame resolutions, uninspired character building and a rising sense of loss. Like a river starting from a clear mountain spring meanders through the low lands just to seep away into sand.
The threads of silk and velvet dissolved, replaced by mundane cotton and linnen. The tapestry became a rug.
My reading became desperate. Desperate to find more in a book that had promised so much, and went on disappointing.
There were some bright moments even in the later parts of the book. When there was room for the author’s prose to become enthralling: descriptions of scenery, some character's inner life evolving slowly, poetry, the beauty of a woman, a death scene like in a greek tragedy, the final farewell chapters.
But in the end beautiful prose is not enough, if you start out promising more.
I find it always hard to be disappointed by a book, so I'll give Kay a second chance with one of his other books ( maybe) recommended to me.
A book always comes with expectations. General ones you have towards all books and specific ones for a particular one.
I read "Under heaven" with the "SciFi and Fantasy Book Club". I had not read anything by Guy Gavriel Kay before and didn't know what to expect. I was just curious and decided to give the Kindle sample a try.
I was imediately hooked. Poetic prose, slow and deliberate development of story and character, a familiar and yet exotic setting with hints of more to come. First signs of some supernatural forces, an assassin, an intrigue, political machinations, some fascinating characters, great suspense building. All that interwoven like an emerging tapestry.
I wanted to see this cloth woven, wanted to see the image developed. I bought the book. The expectations now were high.
And then something strange happened. All the strands that got me started, disappeared - one by one. All the promises made about mysterious intrigues, powerhungry politicians, and troubled characters vanished. Vanished in lame resolutions, uninspired character building and a rising sense of loss. Like a river starting from a clear mountain spring meanders through the low lands just to seep away into sand.
The threads of silk and velvet dissolved, replaced by mundane cotton and linnen. The tapestry became a rug.
My reading became desperate. Desperate to find more in a book that had promised so much, and went on disappointing.
There were some bright moments even in the later parts of the book. When there was room for the author’s prose to become enthralling: descriptions of scenery, some character's inner life evolving slowly, poetry, the beauty of a woman, a death scene like in a greek tragedy, the final farewell chapters.
But in the end beautiful prose is not enough, if you start out promising more.
I find it always hard to be disappointed by a book, so I'll give Kay a second chance with one of his other books ( maybe) recommended to me.
August 9, 2010
There was a time, I’d say from the early 90s until six or seven years ago, that Guy Gavriel Kay might have been my favorite writer. He was definitely my favorite fantasy writer- and to call him a fantasy writer is probably misleading, the fantasy elements in his books are often small and subtle-he is more a Historical Fiction writer than anything. He and I have grown apart, though. Mostly because my tastes have changed, I suspect, but also due to his last several books just not being up to his previous high standards. Under Heaven is a partial return to form, but only partial. A thrilling read, with some wonderful grace notes but also some odd choices in pacing and some set pieces that seemed more than just echoes of scenes from earlier Kay books.
Most of Kay’s books take place in recognizable historical periods with slight twists of fantasy added, and a re-naming of places and reconfiguring of events so you are left with the flavor and atmosphere of that time and place but Kay is set free to let his imagination take over, unencumbered by strict facts. He has done takes on Provencal in the age of the Troubadors(my favorite- A Song for Arbonne, Medieval Spain, England under siege by Vikings, Byzantium at its apex and with Under Heaven he presents us with a subtly, artfully altered Tang Era China.
Good Reader Kelly has a wonderful review of Under Heaven(it’s also a wonderful thread where many smart and worthy readers discuss the relative merits of Kay’s books- here is the link: ). One thing she mentions in the review(and I’m paraphrasing like hell here, I haven’t read it in awhile) is that we are much more likely to love a work of Historical Fiction if the time and place call to us, resonate with us, and that is absolutely true. My all-time favorite Kay books are set in the places I have the most affinity for, places that have charged my imagination.
There was a time that a Tang Era China reworked by Kay would have left me indifferent. The last few years however I have been absolutely devouring Tang Era poetry and trying to also bone up on the history to the extent my addled brain can. Two of the poets from that era, Tu Fu and Li Po have become all-time favorites of mine, I read from them nearly every week. Imagine my joy when Kay not only referenced these poets but made Li Po a major character, the ‘banished immortal’ himself striding across the stage, albeit re-imagined as sword master, ready to kick ass when he isn’t reciting poetry or chasing ladies. How cool is that?
The main arc of the story in Under Heaven follows Shen Tai, whose father, a prominent general, has recently died. As a grieving rite Shen Tai has spent the last year burying the dead at the site of a major battle. The ghosts that haunt this place are depicted in chilling, uncanny fashion. Kay has always been good at capturing just how scary and unnerving the unknown(death, the gods, women(heh)) are how much mojo a good man needs to stand up straight in the face of the numinous. As a result of his bravery Shen Tai is given a gift that beggars description and is made a player and a target in a kingdom hurtling towards civil war.
In Shen, Kay has created a subtle, likeable protagonist. The secondary characters are all great. There are wonderful set pieces of action that are as cool as anything in ‘Crouching Dragon, Hidden Tiger’ or ‘House of Flying Daggers’. There is courtly intrigue and long, literate speeches that show Kay’s constant stance as defender of culture and beauty and the fine things in this life. There is a wonderful, eerie evocation of shamanistic practices that counter this too.
The Women are here too. Kay is better at writing women of power better than most male fantasy writers I can think of, even if in this book there power is often hidden behind the veil of courtesan or whore- you still know that they are the equal and often the better of the men in their lives. He is also a constant celebrator of the larger feminine principle, of the great SHE at the heart of the world. Over and over in Kay’s works there is the sense of huge cosmic encounters with the archetypical feminine, of the GODDESS herself, when some male interacts with the women in his life. A rite, a dangerous mystery, a crossing of the threshold into something deeper and more beautiful. And he is a romantic too. While he writes about the joining of the sexes with maturity and a discerning eye, he also tends towards a poetic lushness in the language that can sound a bit like a bodice-ripper.
Quibbles: The ending is rushed rushed rushed. He shoehorns years of action into twenty pages. While it’s all good I would’ve preferred more time with these characters, another book even. Most of the fates of the characters seemed cool and fair including one joining I had hoped for hundreds of pages earlier. There also scenes and arrangements of characters that too strongly recall Kay’s earlier works. On the one hand it’s mostly always good, on the other you get a little concerned he’s repeating his own chord patterns. He is still a master though, even though this is not his best, and there are more than enough moments of sheer delight to makeUnder Heaven worth the read.
Note: Note the cover on my edition. Cool terra cotta horses. Note the cover on Good Reader Kelly’s edition. Goofy looking Asian warrior’s from a bad episode of Naruto or a Chinese Soap Opera, cheesier than a block of Velveeta. Is a bad cover worth a loss of a star? I think so.
Most of Kay’s books take place in recognizable historical periods with slight twists of fantasy added, and a re-naming of places and reconfiguring of events so you are left with the flavor and atmosphere of that time and place but Kay is set free to let his imagination take over, unencumbered by strict facts. He has done takes on Provencal in the age of the Troubadors(my favorite- A Song for Arbonne, Medieval Spain, England under siege by Vikings, Byzantium at its apex and with Under Heaven he presents us with a subtly, artfully altered Tang Era China.
Good Reader Kelly has a wonderful review of Under Heaven(it’s also a wonderful thread where many smart and worthy readers discuss the relative merits of Kay’s books- here is the link: ). One thing she mentions in the review(and I’m paraphrasing like hell here, I haven’t read it in awhile) is that we are much more likely to love a work of Historical Fiction if the time and place call to us, resonate with us, and that is absolutely true. My all-time favorite Kay books are set in the places I have the most affinity for, places that have charged my imagination.
There was a time that a Tang Era China reworked by Kay would have left me indifferent. The last few years however I have been absolutely devouring Tang Era poetry and trying to also bone up on the history to the extent my addled brain can. Two of the poets from that era, Tu Fu and Li Po have become all-time favorites of mine, I read from them nearly every week. Imagine my joy when Kay not only referenced these poets but made Li Po a major character, the ‘banished immortal’ himself striding across the stage, albeit re-imagined as sword master, ready to kick ass when he isn’t reciting poetry or chasing ladies. How cool is that?
The main arc of the story in Under Heaven follows Shen Tai, whose father, a prominent general, has recently died. As a grieving rite Shen Tai has spent the last year burying the dead at the site of a major battle. The ghosts that haunt this place are depicted in chilling, uncanny fashion. Kay has always been good at capturing just how scary and unnerving the unknown(death, the gods, women(heh)) are how much mojo a good man needs to stand up straight in the face of the numinous. As a result of his bravery Shen Tai is given a gift that beggars description and is made a player and a target in a kingdom hurtling towards civil war.
In Shen, Kay has created a subtle, likeable protagonist. The secondary characters are all great. There are wonderful set pieces of action that are as cool as anything in ‘Crouching Dragon, Hidden Tiger’ or ‘House of Flying Daggers’. There is courtly intrigue and long, literate speeches that show Kay’s constant stance as defender of culture and beauty and the fine things in this life. There is a wonderful, eerie evocation of shamanistic practices that counter this too.
The Women are here too. Kay is better at writing women of power better than most male fantasy writers I can think of, even if in this book there power is often hidden behind the veil of courtesan or whore- you still know that they are the equal and often the better of the men in their lives. He is also a constant celebrator of the larger feminine principle, of the great SHE at the heart of the world. Over and over in Kay’s works there is the sense of huge cosmic encounters with the archetypical feminine, of the GODDESS herself, when some male interacts with the women in his life. A rite, a dangerous mystery, a crossing of the threshold into something deeper and more beautiful. And he is a romantic too. While he writes about the joining of the sexes with maturity and a discerning eye, he also tends towards a poetic lushness in the language that can sound a bit like a bodice-ripper.
Quibbles: The ending is rushed rushed rushed. He shoehorns years of action into twenty pages. While it’s all good I would’ve preferred more time with these characters, another book even. Most of the fates of the characters seemed cool and fair including one joining I had hoped for hundreds of pages earlier. There also scenes and arrangements of characters that too strongly recall Kay’s earlier works. On the one hand it’s mostly always good, on the other you get a little concerned he’s repeating his own chord patterns. He is still a master though, even though this is not his best, and there are more than enough moments of sheer delight to makeUnder Heaven worth the read.
Note: Note the cover on my edition. Cool terra cotta horses. Note the cover on Good Reader Kelly’s edition. Goofy looking Asian warrior’s from a bad episode of Naruto or a Chinese Soap Opera, cheesier than a block of Velveeta. Is a bad cover worth a loss of a star? I think so.
September 5, 2016
4.5/5
Özet Yorum: Kaplan ve Ejderha'yı seven bu kitabı da sever derim ben.
Detaylı Yorum:
Guy Gavriel Kay, ilk kez 2012'de haberdar olduğum ve o zamandan beri Türkçede okumak için kıvrandığım bir zamandı. Kendisinin tarihi kurguları övgülere doymuyordu. Ben de meraktan ölüyordum.
Onunla Gök Cennetin Altında ile tanıştım nihayet. Kendisi tam da beklediğim gibi çıktı. Kurgularında kullandığı ve onları çok hafif bir fantastik sosla süslediği yapısında, dönemin diline ve kültürüne sonuna kadar hakim bir yazar çıktı karşıma. Hal böyle olunca ve kitabın geçtiği dönem 8. yüzyılın Çin Hanedanlığı olunca, ağdalı, başlarda içine girmesi zor ama alışınca dönemi solutan bir dille karşılaştım.
Kay, güzel araştırmaların sonucunu kitabın her yerinde hissettiriyor. Entrikalar, ihanetler, aşklar, politika, danışıklı dövüşler ve hepsinin ortasındaysa döneme ait, Çin'e has o aşırı saygı çerçevesinde, kast sistemine dayalı replikler var.
Kay aynı zamanda şiire de fazlasıyla önem vermiş. Kitapta birçok şiir mevcut (yine döneme uygun olarak) ve bunlar Uzak Doğu esintilerini taşıdığı gibi, ne mutlu ki çevirileri de oldukça güzel.
Türkleri ya da Moğolları temsil eden Bogüler ve onların şamanlarının meydana getirdiği doğaüstü olaylar, iktidar savaşı, bol bol politika ve saray mensuplarının ayak oyunları, birçok entrika ve bunların arasında hanedanlık dönemi Çin'in dolu dolu kültürü bu kitapta yer alıyor. Siyah giymiş Kanlin savaşçıları, onların yolu ve öğretileri, efsanevi, kızıl tüylü Sardia atları, gömülecek binlerce ceset, yası tutulan babalar, şamanlar, yörükler...
Kurgu da kendi başına yazar tarafından başarıyla taşınıyor. Şöyle kurgumuz: Shen Tai, bir ortanca oğul. Babası General Shen Gao'nun başarılı kariyeri ve ölümü ardından, başdüşmanları Taguranlar ile onlar arasında kalmış bir savaş meydanına binlerce ölüyü gömmeye gidiyor. Böylece her gece hayaletlerin inleyişi altında 2 sene boyunca onları gömüyor. Bu sırada Taguran'daki kendi memleketlisi olan Kitan prensesi ona Kitan'ın yıllardır sahip olmak için yırtındığı ve Taguran'a karşı en büyük kıskançlığı olan, Cennet Atları lakaplı Sardia atlarından tam 250 tane hediye ediyor. Ancak bir şart var (ve bu şartın ortaya atılışı da kitapta olay örgüsü içinde işleniyor), Tai bu atları kendisi almalı. Ama bundan da öte, bu bir hediye mi yoksa bir ceza mı?
Çeviride özellikle eski Türkçe kelimeler kullanılmış ve bunu takdir ettim. Bence 8. yüzyılda geçen bir kurgu için güzel bir tercih, stratejik bir hamle. Çevirmen ve editörün ellerine kollarına sağlık. Fakat kitapta neredeyse tüm "hiçbir" kelimesi "hiç bir" şeklinde yazılmasaydı keşke. Ya da "anlayışının" kelime "anlay ışının" olmasaydı. Bunun gibi birkaç kelime daha sıklıklı bölünerek yazılmış. Yazım hataları çok değil, ama ortalarda ek hataları mevcut. Çeviri ve editörlüğe büyük emek harcandığı belli. Sadece o şiirler bile yansıtıyor bunu. Ancak keşke son okuması da güzel olsaydı da bu kitap tertemiz çıksaydı karşımıza.
Tarihe, hanedanlık dönemi Çin'e, Uzak Doğu'ya ve farklı kültürlere merakınız varsa bu kitaba bir şans verin. Guy Gavriel Kay, oradan buradan tırtıkladığı bilgiler yerine, yetkin araştırmalar ve bir de hayal gücüyle yazan bir yazar. Siz de bunu göreceksiniz.
Özet Yorum: Kaplan ve Ejderha'yı seven bu kitabı da sever derim ben.
Detaylı Yorum:
Guy Gavriel Kay, ilk kez 2012'de haberdar olduğum ve o zamandan beri Türkçede okumak için kıvrandığım bir zamandı. Kendisinin tarihi kurguları övgülere doymuyordu. Ben de meraktan ölüyordum.
Onunla Gök Cennetin Altında ile tanıştım nihayet. Kendisi tam da beklediğim gibi çıktı. Kurgularında kullandığı ve onları çok hafif bir fantastik sosla süslediği yapısında, dönemin diline ve kültürüne sonuna kadar hakim bir yazar çıktı karşıma. Hal böyle olunca ve kitabın geçtiği dönem 8. yüzyılın Çin Hanedanlığı olunca, ağdalı, başlarda içine girmesi zor ama alışınca dönemi solutan bir dille karşılaştım.
Kay, güzel araştırmaların sonucunu kitabın her yerinde hissettiriyor. Entrikalar, ihanetler, aşklar, politika, danışıklı dövüşler ve hepsinin ortasındaysa döneme ait, Çin'e has o aşırı saygı çerçevesinde, kast sistemine dayalı replikler var.
Kay aynı zamanda şiire de fazlasıyla önem vermiş. Kitapta birçok şiir mevcut (yine döneme uygun olarak) ve bunlar Uzak Doğu esintilerini taşıdığı gibi, ne mutlu ki çevirileri de oldukça güzel.
Türkleri ya da Moğolları temsil eden Bogüler ve onların şamanlarının meydana getirdiği doğaüstü olaylar, iktidar savaşı, bol bol politika ve saray mensuplarının ayak oyunları, birçok entrika ve bunların arasında hanedanlık dönemi Çin'in dolu dolu kültürü bu kitapta yer alıyor. Siyah giymiş Kanlin savaşçıları, onların yolu ve öğretileri, efsanevi, kızıl tüylü Sardia atları, gömülecek binlerce ceset, yası tutulan babalar, şamanlar, yörükler...
Kurgu da kendi başına yazar tarafından başarıyla taşınıyor. Şöyle kurgumuz: Shen Tai, bir ortanca oğul. Babası General Shen Gao'nun başarılı kariyeri ve ölümü ardından, başdüşmanları Taguranlar ile onlar arasında kalmış bir savaş meydanına binlerce ölüyü gömmeye gidiyor. Böylece her gece hayaletlerin inleyişi altında 2 sene boyunca onları gömüyor. Bu sırada Taguran'daki kendi memleketlisi olan Kitan prensesi ona Kitan'ın yıllardır sahip olmak için yırtındığı ve Taguran'a karşı en büyük kıskançlığı olan, Cennet Atları lakaplı Sardia atlarından tam 250 tane hediye ediyor. Ancak bir şart var (ve bu şartın ortaya atılışı da kitapta olay örgüsü içinde işleniyor), Tai bu atları kendisi almalı. Ama bundan da öte, bu bir hediye mi yoksa bir ceza mı?
Çeviride özellikle eski Türkçe kelimeler kullanılmış ve bunu takdir ettim. Bence 8. yüzyılda geçen bir kurgu için güzel bir tercih, stratejik bir hamle. Çevirmen ve editörün ellerine kollarına sağlık. Fakat kitapta neredeyse tüm "hiçbir" kelimesi "hiç bir" şeklinde yazılmasaydı keşke. Ya da "anlayışının" kelime "anlay ışının" olmasaydı. Bunun gibi birkaç kelime daha sıklıklı bölünerek yazılmış. Yazım hataları çok değil, ama ortalarda ek hataları mevcut. Çeviri ve editörlüğe büyük emek harcandığı belli. Sadece o şiirler bile yansıtıyor bunu. Ancak keşke son okuması da güzel olsaydı da bu kitap tertemiz çıksaydı karşımıza.
Tarihe, hanedanlık dönemi Çin'e, Uzak Doğu'ya ve farklı kültürlere merakınız varsa bu kitaba bir şans verin. Guy Gavriel Kay, oradan buradan tırtıkladığı bilgiler yerine, yetkin araştırmalar ve bir de hayal gücüyle yazan bir yazar. Siz de bunu göreceksiniz.
October 15, 2023
GGK vaults to the lead of my "favorite new author" list this year. I really connect with his style of storytelling, which is frankly quite unorthodox for this genre. Under Heaven has little to no magic or magical creatures, no big set pieces or battles, but is still an epic work and an important story for his world. His characterization, sense of setting in bringing this world alive, and prose style are all superb.
April 24, 2021
So how much trouble could 250 horses be? I mean, besides feeding them and keeping them in shape it can't be that bad, right?
Well, if these horses happen to be highly prized by very powerful people (including an Emperor) AND you are stuck in the middle of nowhere when you receive the gift you can find yourself in a bit of a pickle. This is the situation Shen Tai finds himself in when he is gifted (though gifted might not be how he sees it) 250 magnificent Sardian horses, horses whose qualities far surpass all others available to the great Kitai Empire (Kay's name for what we call the Tang Dynasty of China), of which Shen Tai is a citizen of.
Thrust into this precarious situation Shen Tai strikes out to discharge this gift before it gets him killed. Having been away from the Kitai Empire for two years he is unprepared for the volatile political environment his appearance and gift unsettles. There are may layers of court intrigue, hidden agendas, and good old fashion personal grudges.
I think the best way to describe Under Heaven was achingly beautiful. The characters in this book were vibrant and nuanced, the setting was beautifully crafted and multi-layered, the story was both grand and personal, and the writing was elegant and well balanced, never saying more or less than was needed. There is a refined beauty in the economy of language and the imagery Kay employed to tell this story. It sweeps you up and places you firmly among the characters and events of the book.
Kay does a marvelous job balancing three story telling devices: the perspective of the main characters, the perspective of the tangential characters who we only see briefly but fall into the orbit of the main characters, and the greater picture of the events going on beyond the characters' awareness. Each passage, even those from tangential characters we will never see or hear from again, enriches and deepens the setting and atmosphere. Some of my favorite sections were from these characters' perspective, letting us see the main characters from a more impartial position, providing another view on the events going on, and just being delightful to read on their own merits.
I was initially put off by some of the third person passages that cropped up near the end of the book that provide a sweeping view of some events occurring outside the main character's view but it all came together at the end to provide what I think was the message of the book: decisions matter. Large, small, well planned, spur of the moment, all of them in some way contribute to the human experience. A simple, off the cuff decision could have extensive repercussions in a year's time. Empires could fall, famine could spread, love could be unrequited, the path not taken could have been ruin or paradise.
All we can do is make the best decisions we have available to us and move on with our lives knowing that some decisions we can control and other decisions control us. Be it the strict imperial protocol of a fragile empire or what inn we choose to stop at. Life and love may not turn out as we expect or play out like a fairy tale but we must make the best of it and continue to live life as we best see fit. To quote the ever entertaining movie Gladiator: What we do in life echos an eternity.
Under Heaven's story about intersecting lives, decisions, and consequences poignantly conveys this message with subtlety and beauty rarely found in literature.
(For those of you who want to read about the actual historical circumstances that inspired this book, check out the Wikipedia article on the )
Well, if these horses happen to be highly prized by very powerful people (including an Emperor) AND you are stuck in the middle of nowhere when you receive the gift you can find yourself in a bit of a pickle. This is the situation Shen Tai finds himself in when he is gifted (though gifted might not be how he sees it) 250 magnificent Sardian horses, horses whose qualities far surpass all others available to the great Kitai Empire (Kay's name for what we call the Tang Dynasty of China), of which Shen Tai is a citizen of.
Thrust into this precarious situation Shen Tai strikes out to discharge this gift before it gets him killed. Having been away from the Kitai Empire for two years he is unprepared for the volatile political environment his appearance and gift unsettles. There are may layers of court intrigue, hidden agendas, and good old fashion personal grudges.
I think the best way to describe Under Heaven was achingly beautiful. The characters in this book were vibrant and nuanced, the setting was beautifully crafted and multi-layered, the story was both grand and personal, and the writing was elegant and well balanced, never saying more or less than was needed. There is a refined beauty in the economy of language and the imagery Kay employed to tell this story. It sweeps you up and places you firmly among the characters and events of the book.
Kay does a marvelous job balancing three story telling devices: the perspective of the main characters, the perspective of the tangential characters who we only see briefly but fall into the orbit of the main characters, and the greater picture of the events going on beyond the characters' awareness. Each passage, even those from tangential characters we will never see or hear from again, enriches and deepens the setting and atmosphere. Some of my favorite sections were from these characters' perspective, letting us see the main characters from a more impartial position, providing another view on the events going on, and just being delightful to read on their own merits.
I was initially put off by some of the third person passages that cropped up near the end of the book that provide a sweeping view of some events occurring outside the main character's view but it all came together at the end to provide what I think was the message of the book: decisions matter. Large, small, well planned, spur of the moment, all of them in some way contribute to the human experience. A simple, off the cuff decision could have extensive repercussions in a year's time. Empires could fall, famine could spread, love could be unrequited, the path not taken could have been ruin or paradise.
All we can do is make the best decisions we have available to us and move on with our lives knowing that some decisions we can control and other decisions control us. Be it the strict imperial protocol of a fragile empire or what inn we choose to stop at. Life and love may not turn out as we expect or play out like a fairy tale but we must make the best of it and continue to live life as we best see fit. To quote the ever entertaining movie Gladiator: What we do in life echos an eternity.
Under Heaven's story about intersecting lives, decisions, and consequences poignantly conveys this message with subtlety and beauty rarely found in literature.
(For those of you who want to read about the actual historical circumstances that inspired this book, check out the Wikipedia article on the )
March 19, 2023
"Even mountains alter given enough time, why should not empires?
This was an incredible historical fiction book set in eighth-century China that is based on the An Lushan rebellion. I have had this book as well as the Lions of Al-Rassan on my shelf for over five years since I found them in a thrift store a while back so I knew one of those would be my starting point for Kays works and I am so glad I picked this one.
Even if I end up liking his other works more I think this book just checked all of the boxes that I am looking for in a book, whether it be amazing characters like Shen Tai or Spring Rain, or an interesting setting, or that some of my favorite chapters are the ones with heavy dialogue and low on action. I will definitely be reading more books by Guy Gavriel Kay as this was an amazing reading experience.
This was an incredible historical fiction book set in eighth-century China that is based on the An Lushan rebellion. I have had this book as well as the Lions of Al-Rassan on my shelf for over five years since I found them in a thrift store a while back so I knew one of those would be my starting point for Kays works and I am so glad I picked this one.
Even if I end up liking his other works more I think this book just checked all of the boxes that I am looking for in a book, whether it be amazing characters like Shen Tai or Spring Rain, or an interesting setting, or that some of my favorite chapters are the ones with heavy dialogue and low on action. I will definitely be reading more books by Guy Gavriel Kay as this was an amazing reading experience.
November 13, 2014
Guy Gavriel Kay has created his own little niche - books that are part historical fiction, moved slightly to the left, and part fantasy. That is to say, he researches the hell out of a particular time and place, and then writes in a fictionalized version of that setting, frequently with some magical elements, and almost always with two moons.
Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the changes in ϻӮ policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at
Note: The rest of this review has been withdrawn due to the changes in ϻӮ policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at
February 20, 2015
The story begins with one Shen Tai, second son of a great general who has just, two years and a half ago (not quite), died. The mourning period is that long, two and half years, and requires complete withdrawal from society. And Tai, as part of his mourning, to honor his father, has come back to Kuala Nor, where his father won a great victory. That victory cost his people 40,000 Kitan men – and cost the enemy, the Tagurans, 60,000 men. None of these soldiers received burial, and an unburied body means a ghost – and Tai very very quickly found that, indeed, there are about 100,000 ghosts crying and screaming through the night. His self-appointed task is to bury these soldiers … or, at least as many as can be buried in two and a half years by one man. It’s mad – and, in a civilization that echoes 7th century Tang Dynasty China, steeped in honour.
As he starts another day of digging, he is pondering where his life will take him now that the mourning period is ending – whether he will go back to what he was trying to make of himself when his father died, or … something else. And then, with the unrolling of a letter, the decision is gone from his hands. In recognition of his mad, honourable actions, the White Jade Princess Cheng-wan, a bride sent from Kitai to Tagur some twenty years ago, is – with permission – giving Tai a gift.
“It is a large gift”, says Bytsan, the Taguran soldier who brings the scroll. He is, apparently, a master of understatement.
He is also a man who rides one of the Dragon horses, Heavenly Horses, the magnificent, fiery steeds imported from Sardia because for all its wonders and resources Kitai does not have the grazing lands to breed great horses. They are rare, and wondrous, and coveted even by those who don’t ride.
You gave a man one of these Sardian horses to reward him greatly. You gave him four or five of those glories to exalt him above his fellows, propel him towards rank – and earn him the jealousy, possibly mortal, of those who rode the smaller horses of the steppes.
The Princess Chang-wan, a royal consort of Tagur now thorugh twenty years of peace, had just bestowed upon him, with permission, two hundred and fifty of the dragon horses.
That was the number. Tai read it one more time.
And that quickly Tai’s life is turned inside out. Starting right then, he needs to reintegrate himself into the world again, immediately, after having been almost completely isolated for his mourning period. Starting then, he needs to start thinking like a courtier, a politician, a strategist … or he will die.
The book starts with a tight focus on Tai, and for most of the book it keeps returning to him, in a POV so tight it might almost as well be first-person. As Tai re-enters the world, occasionally the perspective splinters off – the second chapter starts in Bytsan’s head, and later we see through the eyes of several other characters. Interestingly, the female POV’s (P’s OV) are all in the present tense; often Kay uses that for scenes of deep mysticism. The closer he draws to the Ta-Ming Palace, the more glimpses of others’ thoughts we see, the wider grows the ring of personages, and the larger his deed grows: what started off as a really quite simple gesture to honor his father is magnified – he might easily have been killed by those who saw his coming there as arrogance – and now this … Poor Tai is an ordinary man, really, second son of a great man, intelligent – but not a genius in diplomacy or poetry or any of the other skills he will need. Just an ordinary man doing his damnedest to keep himself alive.
We’re never given the motivation for the White Jade Princess to have done this to him; either she knew exactly what the gift would do to him, or she was like those politicians who burble on about healthcare reform when they’ve never had to worry about how to pay for a doctor’s visit, or cut unemployment benefits when they’ve never had to worry about how to buy groceries this weekend – - or, indeed, like Malcolm bloody Forbes pondering the mistake so many Americans make in not doing what they love for a living. It may have been a combination – “some is good, more is better” and “stir the pot”… I would have enjoyed one (present-tense) passage illuminating what was in her mind, but as it is the mystery works just fine. Kay is not one to answer all your questions – that’s part of the reality of his worlds.
Happily for Tai, he has good friends, and finds others along the way – and he has the intelligence to know that he does not have the skills to navigate the treacherous waters of the court. So he goes his own way, and does the unexpected – and it’s a joy to watch. I loved this character. He’s not my favorite – Tigana has most of those – but Tai is a wonderful companion. He has flaws, he’s aware of his flaws, and he does not react to much of anything in just the way the reader or the people around him expect. Can’t ask for much more than that. He reacted to political intrigue and webs being spun around him and plots surfacing and submerging again (and how’s that for a mixed metaphorical bag) much the way I think I, or any reasonably intelligent but unversed person, would react if thrown into the middle of that mess – step by step, and thinking fast, terrified and exhilarated and praying a lot…
I loved Tai. I loved Spring Rain and wanted her to be triumphant in the end. I loved Wei Song, and how she skirted (heh) the stereotypes. I loved Sima Zian even more. I hated Tai’s brother – and then not so much – and only Kay can leave you hating a character but utterly respecting him at the same time. I think the only thing I could have wished for would have been … more of the horses.
Only Kay can take an action in a character’s past (here, what happened with Meshag – the ending of which I have to say I thought was a horrible mistake) and spin its repercussions through the action of the current story like this. Only Kay can withhold the information, and withhold it a little more, and then take you right out of the current story into the past in such a way that not only is it not a jarring interruption to the current narrative, it’s the satisfaction of a need to know, and so far beyond info-dump that everyone who aspires to write should study it.
Only Kay can take a world as alien to modern America as Tang Dynasty China, and make it so comprehensible and fascinating and, still, so mysterious and complex …
Only Kay (and a very few others) can flood a narrative with art and light like this.
Only Kay (and a very few others) – can set up a situation which is so intensely painful, and so very inevitable, but still so unpredictable as the scene in the inn yard. Only Kay can show so clearly, so vividly, so, sometimes, painfully how the course of a life, a love, a kingdom can turn on the decision of a moment, on a word spoken (or not) or heeded (or not). Only Kay can spin out from an intense focus on a single character to a global view and back again with such skill and clarity. Only Kay can write something so simultaneously gritty and lyric, so painful and euphoric. Only Kay writes like this – which is terrible, because such extraordinariness takes time … but which is good, because if every book was this intense reading would be an exhausting process.
Under Heaven was somehow not as wrenching as others – I’ve said before how devastating Tigana was the first time I read it; it’s in anticipation of something like that that I will not read Kay anywhere but at home in private. It goes toward what I saw on SYTYCD, with the dancers shaken and somber after emotional performances, and how I’ve felt coming out of some films (Schindler’s List, for a prime example): there are some works of art that leave one unready to return to normal life and ordinary company for a while. They need space before, to prepare, if possible, and most certainly space after. (I’ve often thought that there should be some kind of airlock in theatres where someone could go to recover a bit before going out into the world – especially into daylight, which just seems wrong sometimes.) I didn’t cry at the inn yard, which surprised me a little even as I was reading. I did cry at the end, which was as inevitable as the events of the inn yard. It’s not my favorite of Kay’s books – I really do need to read Tigana again – and Arbonne - and Al-Rassan – and the Sarantine Mosaic… but Kay’s writing on his worst day is so far superior to anyone else’s that “favorite” is almost irrelevant. It’s a joy and an honor just to open his books.
As he starts another day of digging, he is pondering where his life will take him now that the mourning period is ending – whether he will go back to what he was trying to make of himself when his father died, or … something else. And then, with the unrolling of a letter, the decision is gone from his hands. In recognition of his mad, honourable actions, the White Jade Princess Cheng-wan, a bride sent from Kitai to Tagur some twenty years ago, is – with permission – giving Tai a gift.
“It is a large gift”, says Bytsan, the Taguran soldier who brings the scroll. He is, apparently, a master of understatement.
He is also a man who rides one of the Dragon horses, Heavenly Horses, the magnificent, fiery steeds imported from Sardia because for all its wonders and resources Kitai does not have the grazing lands to breed great horses. They are rare, and wondrous, and coveted even by those who don’t ride.
You gave a man one of these Sardian horses to reward him greatly. You gave him four or five of those glories to exalt him above his fellows, propel him towards rank – and earn him the jealousy, possibly mortal, of those who rode the smaller horses of the steppes.
The Princess Chang-wan, a royal consort of Tagur now thorugh twenty years of peace, had just bestowed upon him, with permission, two hundred and fifty of the dragon horses.
That was the number. Tai read it one more time.
And that quickly Tai’s life is turned inside out. Starting right then, he needs to reintegrate himself into the world again, immediately, after having been almost completely isolated for his mourning period. Starting then, he needs to start thinking like a courtier, a politician, a strategist … or he will die.
The book starts with a tight focus on Tai, and for most of the book it keeps returning to him, in a POV so tight it might almost as well be first-person. As Tai re-enters the world, occasionally the perspective splinters off – the second chapter starts in Bytsan’s head, and later we see through the eyes of several other characters. Interestingly, the female POV’s (P’s OV) are all in the present tense; often Kay uses that for scenes of deep mysticism. The closer he draws to the Ta-Ming Palace, the more glimpses of others’ thoughts we see, the wider grows the ring of personages, and the larger his deed grows: what started off as a really quite simple gesture to honor his father is magnified – he might easily have been killed by those who saw his coming there as arrogance – and now this … Poor Tai is an ordinary man, really, second son of a great man, intelligent – but not a genius in diplomacy or poetry or any of the other skills he will need. Just an ordinary man doing his damnedest to keep himself alive.
We’re never given the motivation for the White Jade Princess to have done this to him; either she knew exactly what the gift would do to him, or she was like those politicians who burble on about healthcare reform when they’ve never had to worry about how to pay for a doctor’s visit, or cut unemployment benefits when they’ve never had to worry about how to buy groceries this weekend – - or, indeed, like Malcolm bloody Forbes pondering the mistake so many Americans make in not doing what they love for a living. It may have been a combination – “some is good, more is better” and “stir the pot”… I would have enjoyed one (present-tense) passage illuminating what was in her mind, but as it is the mystery works just fine. Kay is not one to answer all your questions – that’s part of the reality of his worlds.
Happily for Tai, he has good friends, and finds others along the way – and he has the intelligence to know that he does not have the skills to navigate the treacherous waters of the court. So he goes his own way, and does the unexpected – and it’s a joy to watch. I loved this character. He’s not my favorite – Tigana has most of those – but Tai is a wonderful companion. He has flaws, he’s aware of his flaws, and he does not react to much of anything in just the way the reader or the people around him expect. Can’t ask for much more than that. He reacted to political intrigue and webs being spun around him and plots surfacing and submerging again (and how’s that for a mixed metaphorical bag) much the way I think I, or any reasonably intelligent but unversed person, would react if thrown into the middle of that mess – step by step, and thinking fast, terrified and exhilarated and praying a lot…
I loved Tai. I loved Spring Rain and wanted her to be triumphant in the end. I loved Wei Song, and how she skirted (heh) the stereotypes. I loved Sima Zian even more. I hated Tai’s brother – and then not so much – and only Kay can leave you hating a character but utterly respecting him at the same time. I think the only thing I could have wished for would have been … more of the horses.
Only Kay can take an action in a character’s past (here, what happened with Meshag – the ending of which I have to say I thought was a horrible mistake) and spin its repercussions through the action of the current story like this. Only Kay can withhold the information, and withhold it a little more, and then take you right out of the current story into the past in such a way that not only is it not a jarring interruption to the current narrative, it’s the satisfaction of a need to know, and so far beyond info-dump that everyone who aspires to write should study it.
Only Kay can take a world as alien to modern America as Tang Dynasty China, and make it so comprehensible and fascinating and, still, so mysterious and complex …
Only Kay (and a very few others) can flood a narrative with art and light like this.
Only Kay (and a very few others) – can set up a situation which is so intensely painful, and so very inevitable, but still so unpredictable as the scene in the inn yard. Only Kay can show so clearly, so vividly, so, sometimes, painfully how the course of a life, a love, a kingdom can turn on the decision of a moment, on a word spoken (or not) or heeded (or not). Only Kay can spin out from an intense focus on a single character to a global view and back again with such skill and clarity. Only Kay can write something so simultaneously gritty and lyric, so painful and euphoric. Only Kay writes like this – which is terrible, because such extraordinariness takes time … but which is good, because if every book was this intense reading would be an exhausting process.
Under Heaven was somehow not as wrenching as others – I’ve said before how devastating Tigana was the first time I read it; it’s in anticipation of something like that that I will not read Kay anywhere but at home in private. It goes toward what I saw on SYTYCD, with the dancers shaken and somber after emotional performances, and how I’ve felt coming out of some films (Schindler’s List, for a prime example): there are some works of art that leave one unready to return to normal life and ordinary company for a while. They need space before, to prepare, if possible, and most certainly space after. (I’ve often thought that there should be some kind of airlock in theatres where someone could go to recover a bit before going out into the world – especially into daylight, which just seems wrong sometimes.) I didn’t cry at the inn yard, which surprised me a little even as I was reading. I did cry at the end, which was as inevitable as the events of the inn yard. It’s not my favorite of Kay’s books – I really do need to read Tigana again – and Arbonne - and Al-Rassan – and the Sarantine Mosaic… but Kay’s writing on his worst day is so far superior to anyone else’s that “favorite” is almost irrelevant. It’s a joy and an honor just to open his books.
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