Under Heaven [Hardcover]

Guy Gavriel Kay is one of my favourite authors, has been for a long time. His early Fionavar Tapestry caught my interest: flawed, derivative of Tolkien, but nevertheless full of knowledge and understanding of European folklore, and expressed in lambent prose. His Sarantium duology disappointed slightly, but he found his rythm again in his evocations of early medieval Europe, the hauntingly beautiful Song for Arbonne, the rich and tragic Lions of Al Rassan, the exquisite and almost flawless Tigana. The Last Light of the Sun is possibly better than these, but did not move me personally so much; and Ysabel, which I love, is perhaps less ambitious. But nevertheless Kay is one of two writers I pre-order in hardback as soon as a book is announced. But I confess I wondered: could this writer so steeped in the history of Europe do justice to ancient China?

Oh, ye of little faith.

This novel is transcendent. It stands alongside Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose as the equal finest piece of narrative fiction I have ever read. There is so much richness, so much depth, so much knowledge, so much understanding here. So much compassion; so much subtlety. And the evocation of ancient China rings entirely true. No slightest hint or detail of scene or voice interrupts or jars the willing suspension of disbelief. The evocation of a world that sweeps from the empty grasslands of the steppe through the mountain wastes of the abandoned battlefield, over the lonely forts on the Great Wall and by way of the isolated fastness of the soldier monks to the pleasure gardens of the imperial palace is solid and firm and credible in each perfectly observed detail, in each perfectly crafted phrase.

Kay shows us in words, as Antti-Jussi Annila has in film, that Europe and China are not in fact so far apart across the top of the world; that people are, always, people; and that the core of every narrative is those people and the complex web of interaction - of love, of loyalty, of respect, of rivalry, of conflict, of hatred - between them. All that is here. All that is here, and this prose sings. It's no accident that Kay's heroes here are poets, as in the Song for Arbonne they are jongleurs. Kay loves language, and narrative; and with this book he has mastered both. This book - this text - is his masterpiece, under heaven.

Kitai, during the Ninth Dynasty. The Emperor has given the nation many years of peace and prosperity. Far to the west, in a valley where the last great battle between Kitai and Tagur was fought, a dutiful son pays homage to his dead father by burying the bones of the fallen. His honourable task is noted by the Tagurans who give him a princely gift: two hundred and fifty Sardian horses. You give a man one Sardian horse to honour him greatly, four or five to elevate him above all others. Two hundred and fifty is an overwhelming gift, a gift that instantly elevates Shen Tai into a player in Kitan politics.

These are perilous times. The First Minister and the empire's greatest general are feuding, the Emperor is distracted by his most favoured concubine and there is tribal dissent among the Bogu people beyond the Long Wall. Shen Tai and his family are thrust into the midst of great events, and find they and their horses may determine the balance of power, and of life and death, for many.

Under Heaven is Guy Gavriel Kay's eleventh novel, and marks a return to his favoured alternate-history setting and genre after the World Fantasy Award-winning Ysabel, which was a departure from his normal work. The setting this time is 8th Century China during the Tang Dynasty, during the lead-up to the colossal An Shi Rebellion (the most devastating war in human history until World War II, if the casualty figures are to be believed), although as normal the setting is lightly fictionalised, with characters and events hewing close to the originals but not quite replicating them.

Kay's China - Kitai - is a place of scheming nobles, courtly poise and etiquette and labyrinth conspiracies, all of which are depicted impressively. As normal, Kay is less interested in war and battles than in the human characters of the story, from Shen Tai and his ambitious brother Shen Liu to First Minister Wen Zhou, the poet Sima Zian and the women of the story (the Beloved Companion Wen Jian, Tai's sister Shen Li-Mei and the Kanlin warrior Wei Song), whose roles are crucial. Kay's grasp of character is as assured as ever, and he brings these people to life to the extent where the reader finds it impossible not to care about what happens to them next. Kay's grasp of emotion is as also finely-judged as ever, with moments of genuinely raw emotional power which never overreach into mawkishness.

The pacing is also well-handled, and the plot unfolds in a gripping manner. Kay shows greater confidence here as a writer than he has in some time, and his weaving of events, conspiracies and characters into a greater whole is impressive. This is easily his most assured and well-executed book since The Lions of Al-Rassan, if not ever.

Under Heaven (*****) is a superb book from one of our best writers working at the top of his game, and will likely be judged one of the strongest books of this year, in fantasy or otherwise. It is available now in the UK and USA.

I'd read the Fionavar Tapestry books many years ago so when I saw this book I recognised the name of the author as one whose books I had enjoyed before. I wasn't disappointed! As some other reviewers have pointed out - this book leans more towards historical fiction rather than fantasy, but there are sprinklings of the spirit world. It's beautifully written and I found it very absorbing. I was very much captured by the characters and the world they lived in - a world of heroes, emperors, love, war, honour and intrigue. Tai was a believable hero - I both admired him and identified with his struggles. A fascinating and enjoyable read - the kind of book that I both desparately want to read more of, yet at the same time mourn when it ends.