A Song for Arbonne

As soon as I read the Prologue, and read the elegant paragraphs that Kay is renowned for, and the introduction of the plot and several the main characters, I was swept away... This book has great fight scenes; interesting discussions, often quite humourous, making me laugh aloud; and much more... This book climaxes with a battle at the end, then the all the twists of the plot comes into place and you find yourself in a rush of emotions. I thought about what you have read and I whispered 'Wow'. And that is the only way to describe it. This is possibly Kay's best work, on a level to match Tolkien, Weis and Hickman, Brooks, Goodkind, and all the top fantasy authors and the authors of any other genre very easily, and this work surpasses all but a few books, not just in the fantasy world, but in all literature...

I had heard great things about Guy Gavriel Kay, and this was my first exposure to his work. To say that I was impressed is an unambiguous understatement. This is as good a fantasy novel as any I've read in a long time. He has created a rich and vibrant world brimming with well fleshed-out, interesting characters. The plot is relatively uncomplicated, but smart and extraordinarily well paced. In fact, the pacing is so good that the over used and hackneyed term "page turner" actually fits just perfectly.The fantasy content of the novel is mostly limited to the creation of a world loosely based on medieval France. Magic is almost non-existent, and there are no trolls, elves, unicorns, etc. The story deals with very human emotions: love, loyalty, honor, duty etc., but also with jealousy, hatred, bigotry, and more. It is also an excellent political thriller with plenty of plot twists and turns. All in all, I could recommend this book to anyone, whether you are a veteran reader of fantasy novels, or a novice to the genre.

"Even the birds above the lake are singing of my love..." for A Song for Arbonne, by Guy Gavriel Kay. Set in the fantasy land of Arbonne, a sun-kissed fertile kingdom of paganistic, matriarchal religion, the plot of the book is based on an old secret, firmly rooted in the history of Arbonne, dealing with courtly love. Bertran de Talair, arguably the most colorfully complex product of Kay's imagination and also my favorite character, is a highly respected troubadour, or songwriter, and duke of Arbonne. His scandalous relationship with the wife of a prominent duke and princess of Arbonne ended with her death that caused him grief for decades to come, an inner turmoil that he seldom speaks of. Though he is connected with a long line of women, Bertran never married and he is not just a handsome troubadour, but an aging one, who, through the years, never managed to find another love, making the reader sympathetic with the blue-eyed courtier. Kay unravels the history of Bretran carefully, and though the tale is revealed early on in the story, when Bertran tells it, the reader is crushed by his sorrow, creating a bond between Bertran and the reader through dramatic irony and well developed characters. A classic song the joglars of Arbonne sing praises the beauty of Aelis de Miraval, written by Bertran himself, and the reader is opened up to the history of the love affair as well as the culture of Arbonne: "Even the birds above the lake are singing of my love..." (21). The day twenty three years ago when Bertran and Aelis were together, she claimed there was magic in the room and she was right; a women of so much power like herself, daughter and heiress to her father's kingdom and wife to the most powerful duke of all Arbonne was standing weak-kneed before the handsome, young troubadour, both in love, capturing the reader in the seeds of a romance that ended in tragedy. Duke Bertran de Talair, influential and seductive, was not the powerful, composed man he seemed to be, but an angsty, grieving, aging man, weakened by the loss of the love of his life, as the reader can see by the veil lifted by Kay's writing. After another accomplishment in the bed of a local baron's wife, the duke says nostalgically, "The gods know, and sweet Rian knows I've tried, but in twenty-three years I've never found a woman to equal her, or take away the memory, even for a night" (39). At the end, with the death of his lifelong enemy, Urte de Miraval, Aelis's husband, "Bertran had lost... the passion of hatred that had ordered and shaped his life for more than twenty years", and the reader, already so caught up in the tale, feels the sting of an old burn because of the relationship already created with Bertran. Conflicts like the ones between Urte and Bertran or within Bertran himself add to the exquisitely complex storyline based on that ancient secret, and it isn't just another cliched fantasy story of good vs. evil. Bertran is plagued with the death of Aelis and

I have greatly enjoyed Guy Gavriel Kay's writing, and even found "The Fionavar Tapestry" engaging, if not equal to his later, more mature work. Kay is certainly one of the best and most original writers fantasy has to offer, and this work remains a favorite. Like "The Lions of Al-Rassan" and "Sailing to Sarantium ", the story is loosely based upon a historical period and culture, in this case the troubadour era of Mediterranean Europe. Kay interweaves his tale with the customs of medieval knighthood as well as the conflicting worship of a patriarchal sun god and an older, magical veneration of a goddess familiar to anyone having studied Robert Graves. Interlaced into these plot motifs are elements of court intrigue, mystery, and familial skeletons in the closet. Yet out of this seeming disparate stew Kay is able to distill a complicated tale of conflict that is not only believable but attains a life of its own. Unlike much fantasy fiction, the characterization is mature and complex, both in thought and motivation, and Kay's characters evolve with the story. Further, neither the plot nor the players always follow what is expected, yet at no time does the action become contrived or a stretch of one's credulity. Kay obviously loves the unforeseen twist, and cleverly calls it to use. And I think you'll find the aftermath to "A Song for Arbonne" an unsuspected delight.

I finished Arbonne feeling starngly depressed, and not at all sure that I liked it. But after the book hovered in my mind for two weeks, I deceided there must have been something there to influence me like that, so I read it again.... Arbonne's power is the same reason it left me feeling disturbed. It's a book that, unlike most fantasies, refuses to take the easy way out. The theme intruduced in Tigana is here given full play: we do not live in Fionvarre. We live in a world that's complicated and dark, and where things seldom turned out as planned. The many ironies-- whether it is Alaise nearly destroying her land in repayment for an evil which never exsisted, Bertarn being forced to keep alive a man for a secret he doesn't know, or Blaise being controlled by his father as he defines himself by rebelling against him--all these ironies within ironies, the shattering of charished assuptions show that Kay is willing to deal with the world on its own terms. The rich inter-relationships, which, by any other author would have been crude and dramatic, instead give a sense of muted tradegy and add to the theme of an imperfect world, where we can't always finish what was began. Ranald and Blaise's twisted relationship, or Lisseut staying in the shadows leaves a longer and deeper impression then the usual happy ending. Robin Hobb is the only author I can think of who has had the courage to do the same.