This book was the February selection for our SF Book Club. Though known for his “fantastical” books, Under Heaven is less a fantasy book than a historical period piece. Kay’s books each have different styles, and are set in very different eras. This one is less lyrical than his other work, which for me was a good thing.

Set in a fictional world that closely mirrors China in the T’ang Dynasty, it is a story about what constitutes honour, duty, and loyalty. Told primarily from the perspective of General Shen’s three oldest children (now adults), the narration switches among several other characters as well: soldiers from several armies, courtesans, staff in key households, and civil servants of various rank in the Emperor’s court. It is a credit to Kay that he weaves these story threads so skillfully that you are always aware of where you are in the overall timeline.

In discussing this book, the Club members agreed to classify it as “historical fantasy” rather than “magical realism”. The “magic” in the book is more akin to superstitions and shamanism, and though becomes an element in one of the plots, is not a pervasive part of the story’s environment. I would not hesitate to recommend this to non-SF readers.

As a character-driven novel, Kay spends some time introducing us to the main protagonist (Second Son Shen Tai). But rather than merely describing him, he allows us to learn of his character, morality, and history through describing his actions. Thus we build a more complete picture of him in our minds; this is all the more powerful when, further in the novel, he must make critical choices and we are fully engaged in the consequences of his decisions.

Kay, with a few strokes, paints a complete picture of the established class hierarchy. It is clear that people not only understand their place in society, but also use established mechanisms of manipulation and guile to secure resources, influence, and power. The impression is of a large, multi-layered, multi-generational chess game. The best players plan moves years in advance.

Court politics are the backdrop through which we see how the several protagonists exercise individualism within the context of a collectivist society. Kay brings these characters to life. By being introduced to them through their thoughts, dreams, desires, they are more real to us than a superficial physical description would accomplish.

The strong societal rules and structures are seen through the reactions of different layers of society to how Shen Tai shows honour to his father. Very early in the book we see that what he did was viewed by royalty and soldiers alike as poetic and respectful, and so demands to be acknowledged in a public way.

By being historical, and yet not real history, we can be objective and view the times with a more critical lens. By the time a key member of the Emperor’s Court is killed, we understand that it is collateral damage to the larger issues of State. We feel how the dictates of rigid societal customs require putting the needs of the population ahead of what is fair or just for an individual. The novel has set up the world so that we accept this injustice while at the same time regretting its necessity.

Women in this time live in the interstitial spaces created by the men. Since the men have overt power over the women, the women must manipulate events in indirect ways, using the complex rules of society and custom to their advantage. This requirement in no way diminishes the intelligence, power, or strength (both physical and mental) of the main female characters. In fact, because they must do things within such constraints, their importance to the larger picture is more apparent to us. The main female protagonists in the novel (Shen Li Mai, the consort Spring Rain, the neighbouring Queen, the Emperor’s Consort, the ninjas) all used the tools available to them to affect major political change.

General Shen, the father of the three Shen children, also has agency. Certain actions in his past haunt him; he communicates this to the Second Son (Shen Tai). This directly influences Shen Tai’s choice of how to grieve, which sets the whole novel into motion. Though already dead at the beginning of the novel, the General still strongly influences the behaviour of his children throughout the book.

I had been exposed to Kay’s work many years ago and did not recollect liking what I read. However, after a slow first chapter, the book’s characters and story gripped me and I finished it in two marathon sittings. At 592 pages, it cannot be called a “quick read”; it is, however, absorbing and engaging. The writing is superior and the story makes it a real page-turner. The map at the front of the book is also very helpful when geographic/travel info is imparted and Kay does a good job reusing character names to help keep the narrative thread straight.

At the beginning of the novel, we are introduced to people whose lives are about to be thrown into flux; when we take our leave they have come to peace with their role in their country’s story. When the novel ended, I was keen to know more about what happened next to the various characters I had met, and searched to see if Kay had written a sequel. Nope.

I am still thinking about the book weeks later. ( )

This book suffered from the same problem Kay seems to face in all of his lesser works - it's trying way too hard. Rather than let the story lead the reader to conclusions about the meanings of events of their place in history, Kay feels the need to repeatedly bash his readers over the head with how Epic and Poetic everything is. It worked out well enough in the Sarantine series because the story was compelling, but in this book (which awkwardly recycles a lot of the characters from that series, except made Chinese and more poetry obsessed) the story was so amazingly unexciting that the bluntness didn't fly at all.

Still, I like his writing more than most average books, so I'll give it a 3, and recommend it only to people who have read his many better books and (like me) feel the need to read them all. ( )

It had a great start, got me interested in the characters and had a neat Imperial China feel. Unfortunately, the ending felt really rushed, leaving me feeling vaguely unsatisfied. ( )

Oh, the prose in this was lovely, as exquisite as the poems quoted by characters (I somewhat wish I had paid more attention in premodern Chinese lit- I recognized some of the names of the poets in the acknowledgements section, but alas. I do remember the symbolism behind a lonely goose, though, and something about the four major beauties). I picked this up because I've been meaning to read a GGK, and it's not often you come across a fantasy novel set in an Asian culture (though given the fantastic elements aren't front and center, this is about as low fantasy as ASoIaF- touches of it here and there, but not omnipresent). Ironically, one of the nonfiction books I read earlier this month mentioned real-life Tang dynasty emperor Taizong who loved horses, and the famed Ferghana horses who allegedly sweat blood.

There are action scenes, there is violence, but it feels subdued, perhaps because our perspective characters spend quite a bit of time thinking to themselves. Looks like the library has [b:River of Stars|15808474|River of Stars|Guy Gavriel Kay|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1356089847s/15808474.jpg|21451403] so I can move on swiftly! ( )

I'm a big Kay fan, but his past few books haven't lived up to my expectations of his novels. With this one, I felt like I was reading an earlier novel - the characters were great (both good, bad, and ambiguous). Kay is usually great at making me cry at some point in his novels (Tigana, Song for Arbonne, Lions of Al-Rassan), this one just didn't have that emotional investment. There were parts that made me a bit sad, but that was it.

The story was interesting, as was the time and place it was set. Kay sucked me into the world he had created, and I wanted to keep reading to find out how the intricacies would play out. He didn't dissapoint there. ( )