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yuck1209 's review for:
Under Heaven
by Guy Gavriel Kay
emotional
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Evidently haven’t reread this in a while, so thought I’d revisit to see whether it holds up and is worth keeping on the shelf. I went through a phase where GGK was one of my favorite fantasy writers, though since then I’ve made an effort to diversify the books and authors I read.
On a smaller scale, UH is about Shen Tai, the second son of general Shen Gao. Despite his youth , Tai has tried his hand at being a soldier, Kanlin, and scholar - the last of which was interrupted by his father’s death before he could sit the examinations. During his mourning period, rather than staying home as expected, he decides to honor Shen Gao by returning to the site of his father’s regret and grief: Kuala Nor.
Once a battleground between Kitai and Tagura, where forty thousand lay dead, Kuala Nor is far away from the glittering, civilized seat of the empire. It’s also, notably, haunted by the ghosts of deceased soldiers, whose grief, pain, and anger are made known by their nightly shrieks, cries, and moans. Tai takes it upon himself to lay these dead to rest, in remembrance of his father, an act which earns him the respect (and incredulity) of the nearby border soldiers, Kitan and Taguran alike.
Unbeknownst to Tai, it also earns him the regard of the Rygal Court’s Kitan princess, who, in the thoughtless extravagance of royalty, rewards him with a gift of two hundred and fifty Sardian horses. Sardian horses, as in one of the most coveted, highly-sought-after commodity in Kitai, known for their beauty, speed, and value in battle. Though a generous expression of gratitude, it draws a big ol’ target sign on Tai’s back and forcefully thrusts him at the center of imperial courtly intrigue.
Really though it’s a much more sweeping story of the Kitan empire at its peak in the Ninth Dynasty, but where the balance of power is threatened by its most influential, highest ranking officials. Tai’s story is but one small thread woven into this larger tapestry, although even a single person’s trajectory and choices can ripple outwards and have unexpected impacts. Li-Mei’s trek though the Bogü lands is a good example of this, when it’s revealed thatTai’s previous actions during his stint north of the wall is what precipitated her rescue .
I do think my feelings towards different moments in the book have changed since the first time I read it. A notable example is towards the end of UH, whenAn Li’s rebel forces, due to Wen Chou’s (deeply self-motivated) order for the army to leave Teng Pass against all strategic sense, successfully take Xinan and force the Emperor to flee. He’s accompanied by a small group, including his heir Shinzu, favored concubine Wen Jian, First Minister Wen Chou, and Tai’s party (Tai being even more important given the imminent need for Sardian steeds).
When someone reveals Wen Chou’s role in the resounding defeat, he’s unceremoniously killed by soldiers - who, to everyone’s surprise, also demand the death of Wen Jian. It’s not an unpredictable consequence, given her relation to the First Minister. While reading, Shen Tai and Sima Zian’s reactions to this demand (the former in denial the second in horror) felt a bit over-blown or dramatic. Upon reflection, one could argue these stemming from a sort of grief... not just of Wen Jian but for what she represents.
On a smaller scale, UH is about Shen Tai, the second son of general Shen Gao. Despite his youth , Tai has tried his hand at being a soldier, Kanlin, and scholar - the last of which was interrupted by his father’s death before he could sit the examinations. During his mourning period, rather than staying home as expected, he decides to honor Shen Gao by returning to the site of his father’s regret and grief: Kuala Nor.
Once a battleground between Kitai and Tagura, where forty thousand lay dead, Kuala Nor is far away from the glittering, civilized seat of the empire. It’s also, notably, haunted by the ghosts of deceased soldiers, whose grief, pain, and anger are made known by their nightly shrieks, cries, and moans. Tai takes it upon himself to lay these dead to rest, in remembrance of his father, an act which earns him the respect (and incredulity) of the nearby border soldiers, Kitan and Taguran alike.
Unbeknownst to Tai, it also earns him the regard of the Rygal Court’s Kitan princess, who, in the thoughtless extravagance of royalty, rewards him with a gift of two hundred and fifty Sardian horses. Sardian horses, as in one of the most coveted, highly-sought-after commodity in Kitai, known for their beauty, speed, and value in battle. Though a generous expression of gratitude, it draws a big ol’ target sign on Tai’s back and forcefully thrusts him at the center of imperial courtly intrigue.
Really though it’s a much more sweeping story of the Kitan empire at its peak in the Ninth Dynasty, but where the balance of power is threatened by its most influential, highest ranking officials. Tai’s story is but one small thread woven into this larger tapestry, although even a single person’s trajectory and choices can ripple outwards and have unexpected impacts. Li-Mei’s trek though the Bogü lands is a good example of this, when it’s revealed that
I do think my feelings towards different moments in the book have changed since the first time I read it. A notable example is towards the end of UH, when
When someone reveals Wen Chou’s role in the resounding defeat, he’s unceremoniously killed by soldiers - who, to everyone’s surprise, also demand the death of Wen Jian. It’s not an unpredictable consequence, given her relation to the First Minister. While reading, Shen Tai and Sima Zian’s reactions to this demand (the former in denial the second in horror) felt a bit over-blown or dramatic. Upon reflection, one could argue these stemming from a sort of grief... not just of Wen Jian but for what she represents.