Guy Gavriel Kay is one of only a few authors writing in the "epic fantasy" genre who can come out favorably in a comparison with the genre's daddy J.R.R. Tolkien. He is actually a genuine Tolkien scholar (he helped prepare The Silmarillion for publication), so it's not overly surprising that he writes similar kinds of books. Now by that, I don't mean that he writes stale imitations complete with hobbits, dwarves, trolls, and wizards (although his Fionavar Tapestry, which I may write about another time, has some major parallels that way). No, I mean that he writes grand stories, deeply woven with moral or psychological themes, set in worlds which contain strong cultural and/or mythological elements of specific places and times on Earth and which feel much bigger than the stories set in them.
Tigana is set in a southern hemisphere land reminiscent of medieval Italy: a peninsula and nearby island with a Mediterranean-type climate, composed of nine provinces that share a common language and many cultural traits but have historically existed in a state of perpetual rivalry. For the last couple of decades it has been divided between two foreign sorcerer-tyrants: psychopathic Alberico in the east, there merely to establish a power base from which to make a grab for the imperial tiara back home, and cultured Brandin in the west, who came initially to establish a realm for his beloved younger son to rule and stayed to exact a terrible revenge when that son was killed in the province of Tigana during the conquest. Brandin's objective is nothing short of total cultural annihilation, destroying books and art and sorcerously wiping the very name of the province from the minds of anyone not born there before its fall and extending his lifespan to maintain the spell until no one is left alive of the generations still able to retain their Tiganese identity.
The main story follows exiled prince Alessan of Tigana, last of his line after the war claimed his father and brothers, and his small group of supporters as they travel the country under the guise of musicians and merchants, working to manipulate the balance of power and ultimately establish a peninsula free of both tyrants with Tigana's name restored. We also see events at Brandin's court through the eyes of Dianora, a Tiganese woman who made her way into Brandin's harem on a vengeance mission of her own only to find her heart torn between love of her land and love of the king she came to kill. Her actions provide a number of turning points in the political situation.
The book flirts with but successfully avoids many fantasy cliches. We have Devin, a gifted young singer who learns a secret about his heritage and is caught up in events much bigger than himself, but he is not any kind of Chosen One, nor does he turn out to be improbably good at fighting despite a lack of training. (He is agile and a great sprinter, and decent at picking locks, but no warrior, and in fact is completely out of his depth in the few combat situations he encounters.) We also have Catriana, a prickly young woman his age with whom he instantly gets off on the wrong foot. Must she be his love interest? No! In fact, the plot-relevent sexual encounter they have early in the book causes considerable (non-romantic) tension between them. She isn't a "spunky warrior maiden" either -- she is a strong character with immense courage, but is much more interested in rebelling against the oppressive regime than against cultural gender roles.
A number of themes are explored in depth. Tigana delves into memory, identity, family, friendship, patriotism, and moral ambiguity on the part of a large number of major characters including ones on the "good" side. It also has one of the most interesting thematic uses of sex I've encountered in fantasy literature, instead of the consequence-free promiscuity so prevalent in the genre. Here, loss of freedom and identity drastically affects the characters' capacity for love and intimacy, and so nearly all the sex that happens in the book, whether described or mentioned as happening off-screen, is debased in some way: incest, prostitution, seduction as a cover for something else, or varying impediments to proper consent. The one time it is depicted in a wholly positive light (a literally otherworldly encounter between Baerd and his love interest) marks a turning point both in his character arc and the story as a whole.
The story is engaging, and there are some wonderful moments in the book. Devin's introduction to his heritage moves me every time. I adore every scene with the merchant baron Rovigo and his family. Dianora's ring-dive is wonderful. And the long-awaited triumph of one particular character is one of the most crowning moments in any book, particularly through Simon Vance's delivery of the line in the audiobook recording, and particularly because unlike every other character of significance you never get to see inside that one's head. It's so good I don't want to spoil it. The twist at the end is pretty brilliant, too (again, no spoilers here!).
That's not to say the book is flawless. Alberico is such a complete nutjob that he stands out painfully among the complex, multidimensional rest of the cast. Devin's kinky nocturnal adventure at Castle Borso, while thematically interesting as discussed above especially contrasted with Baerd's encounter that same night, seems out of character for his thoughtful nature and budding affection for Rovigo's daughter, and while Kay's depictions of sex are generally quite tasteful, this one seems a bit gratuitously explicit. Alienor's fabled promiscuity also seems culturally (and biologically) out of place.
But probably the book's greatest weakness has to do with Dianora. She is a wonderful character, and the style in which her sections are written, essentially a tapestry of backstory woven into present events, is distinctive and haunting. It is through her eyes that we learn the most about events following Tigana's fall, and it is her decisions through the course of the book that set up some of the most significant events in the plot. Unfortunately, we know she loves Brandin, but we don't know how she came to love him. And given she is a character so immersed in her memories of the fall, not learning this makes it harder to understand her motivation for her actions in the present.
Those flaws aside, it's a great book that stands up to repeated enjoyment. I recommend it, and I particularly recommend the unabridged audiobook read by Simon Vance, which we got from audible.com. I've listened to it several times and actually had to look up name spellings for this review as I haven't actually read it. (If you haven't heard anything read by Simon Vance, I highly recommend that in general, too. The man could read the phone book and make it sound good.)
Score: 8/10.
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