fajrdrako | Tigana (Reply)

I finished reading Guy Gavriel Kay's Tigana today. It's the first time I've read the whole thing through since the first time I read it, which must have been fifteen years ago. How time flies.

If you don't know this book, it's a fantasy novel about loss, identity, a long-plotted military campaign of rebels in a conquered and destroyed homeland, and the nature of power. Among other things.

It was as good as I had remembered, but I'd forgotten a lot about the characters and plot. Kay was influenced by Dunnett, and I loved the Dunnettisms as much as ever - certain turns of phrase, or ways of approaching a description. He was influenced by Tolkien, too, but in much more subtle ways.

Comments containing spoilers, mostly of interest to those who have read the book:

Ways in which Alessan is Lymondesque, besides certain mannerisms and turns of phrase:
- he loves music, and often takes the guise of a musician
- he specializes in long-term strategy
- his true heritage is a secret
- he has mother issues
- he is a great leader
- he hides his feelings for his true love for a long time
- he has acolytes
- he turns up when and where he is not expected
I'm sure there are more obvious things!

I felt the story skimped on the background of the relationship between Catriana and Alessan - unless I missed or forgot something. How had they met, and when? How did he know she was from Tigana?

One thing I remembered distinctly from my first reading - because I was so proud of it - was that I had guessed correctly that Rhun was really Prince Valentin. Reading this time, I wondered how on earth I had guessed. There were no clues! It must have been that when Brandin started to make the assassin into the next Fool, I figured that the current Fool must be one of his former enemies, and who was the worst possibility? Valentin.

I found the scene between Alessan and his mother chilling. Loved it, though.

I liked Baerd, but he seemed to disappear from the story after the scene in the otherworld cornfield. I had hoped his friend Elena would be pregnant, afterwards.

It struck me that there are a lot of instances - more than in most books - in which the protagonists murder or kill someone. More than the villains do, at least onstage, though the villains tend to threaten horrible fates and torture and murder a lot of people offstage. We have Devin's murder of first the soldier in the barn, then the traitor; we have Sandre's poisoning of his son Tomasso to save him from torture and stop him from talking; we have Alais' killing of the soldier who was attacking Devin; we have Catriana's murder of the Barbadian official; Valentin's murder of Brandin; and the eighteen-year intent of both Alessan and Doriana to murder Brandin, even though, when they each get the change, they don't take it. I'm not saying that any of these murders are unjustified, more that they are committed by unlikely people - innocents, for the most part.

Interesting references to same-sex love which I will have to think about more to feel I understand it. It seemed positive enough, but it seems that none of the many protagonists had same-sex lovers, unless you do a lot of reading between lines in ways that are counter to implication. At the same time, there are very loving relationships between many of the protagonists in many ways. This reminded me of Tolkien, and is one of the greatest charms of this book - as well as of The Lord of the Rings.

At the end, I would have liked it if Alessan had learned that Brandin was killed by Valentin, or if Baerd had learned that the Doriana whom Brandin loved was his sister. It might well have messed up his head rather badly, but still - I like thinking characters know the truth, and deal with it, well or badly, rather than just being in ignorance.

I liked the antagonist Brandin (if he was such) as much as the protagonist Alessan. And was led to do so.

I loved the intertwining and twisting of the characters and plot - how things tie together to make something else. How characters turn out to be people we didn't expect them to be.

There seemed to be much less history, and much more magic, in this book than in most of Kay's others. If the prototype of the Palm is early Renaissance Italy, then who are the Brabadorians? I thought they were analogues to Greeks - but perhaps I should have been thinking of the Turks? Considering this, I still returned to thinking of them as Greek-like.

I also loved the moral point of the contrast between Alberic and Brandin: both were brutal magic-wielding conquerors, but Alberic was consumed by ambition and nothing else, while Brandin grew from hatred to love.

I wondered why Brandin had loved Stevan so much. It seemed to have to do with his being his intended heir in the Palm. Were there other factors? Was it something to do with Stevan, himself? I never quite understood this and would have liked more insight.

I loved Doriana's ongoing dilemma: love or justice.

I wasn't quite sure where Alianora fit in. She reminded me of Guzel. Her main purpose in the plot seemed to be to initiate Devin in some kinky sex. (I liked his scene with Catriana, afterwards.) I wondered what her role was, politically or even militarily - where she fit in the scheme of things. Was she, or had she been, Alessan's lover? Did he even have lovers? Surely: but we were never explicitly told. Was that another Dunnettlike character game, making us guess who our hero is sleeping with, if anyone? Or were we supposed to conclude that Alessan was celibate?