Product Description

One by one, the divided provinces of The Peninsula of the Palm had fallen, conquered by the armies and the sorcery of the two Tyrants. Now, Alberico of Barbadior holds the provinces of the Eastern Palm while Brandin of Ygrath rules the West, and normality of a sort has returned to the peninsula. But for one province there can be no peace. For there is one land that dared to spill the blood of Brandin's beloved son. A land that has been broken and burned, its towers razed and its people crushed, and through the dark magics of the Tyrant of Ygrath, had its very name erased from the world. It falls to a small band of exiles from this shattered land to attempt to achieve what nine provinces could not, and bring down not one, but two, tyrants. Driven by fierce pride, love and the memory of what was, this brave handful of men and women will risk all that they have to return freedom to the Palm, and to hear once more the music of a forgotten name: Tigana.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #135097 in Books
• Published on: 2002-11-04
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 704 pages

Customer Reviews

GGK's best, and my current favourite novel
Guy Gavriel Kay is the fantasy writer's fantasy writer. He served his apprenticeship co editing the Silmarillion, before going on to write a very fine pure fantasy trilogy, the Fionavar Tapestry, and then a sequence of books which although having a fantasy setting were clearly based on real episodes in the early medival history of Europe.

Tigana belongs in a sense to this second sequence. It's clear - and the author's afterword admits - that it takes as its starting point the Italy of the eleventh-twelth centuries - but this Italy has suffered more sea change than the Spain of The Lions of Al Rassan, for example; on Kay's spectrum from fantasy to history this lies nearer the fantasy end.

It revisits a character - not an individual, but a type - who appears repeatedly in Kay's fiction: the brilliant, handsome polymath prince, Diarmuid in Fionavar, Bertran in A Song for Arbonne, Alessan here. I'm still not clear why Kay needs to revisit this character again and again...

The characters are well-drawn, complex and engaging (even the villains); the backstory is clearly deep, and the setting very well presented and portrayed with a wealth of detail. The writing is lyrical, engrossing and persuasive.

This is story telling of a very high order, investigating themes of tyrrany, loyalty and love. Don't read this (or, indeed, any other of Kay's books) if you want an easy read or a happy ending; but if you care to use the lens of fantasy to see reality more clearly, more intensely and more painfully, then this is a very fine book.

Alright, it's superb!
In the Peninsula of the Palm, a land clasped between two tyrannic invaders, the sorcerers Brandin of Ygrath and Alberico of Barbadior, a small group of people struggle for the freedom of their land. And for that of its forgotten name, Tigana, which has been under a spell for over twenty years, since the day Prince Valentin of Tigana slew Brandin's son in battle.

Devin is a 19-year-old singer in Menico's travelling troupe. After performing at Sandre, the Duke of Astibar's funeral, he discreetely follows his companion the beautiful Catriana across the rooms of the palace. Hiding in a closet, they are about to witness a secret meeting: Sander's son is preparing a coup to overthrow Brandin. Devin's curiosity will soon have him caught up in these events.

Dianora is a young woman from Tigana. Taken as "tribute" to Brandin's harem in his colony on the island of Chiara, she becomes his favourite mistress so she can assassinate him and save her land from the enless vengeful slaughter. Instead, she'll slowly fall in love with the man.

Having read Guy Gavriel Kay's Fionavar Tapestry and not liked it much, I would never have read Tigana but for the unanimous praise I came across. And how wrong I would have been, what great reading pleasure I would have missed! For Tigana is a superbly written epic novel, with complex, not-one-dimensional, and finally extremely human characters. I would only reproach the few explicit sex scenes, which I found rather unpoetic. But without hesitation I'll now join my voice to the praise.

This is my favourite book ever, bar none
Yes, this really is better than Lord of the Rings, better than the Ice and Fire series, better than anything else I've ever read.

The story takes place on the peninsula of the Palm, which is loosely based on mediaeval Italy. My knowledge of Italian history is little enough that I wouldn't like to comment on exactly how this has informed Kay's work, but the factual background here seems less intrusive than for A Song for Arbonne or Sailing to Sarantium; this is a fantasy world informed by history, rather than the other way round.

The peninsula was invaded by two wizards, Alberico and Brandin, who have captured four of the nine provinces each. As the last to fall to Brandin, the province of Tigana, did so, the wizard's son was killed in battle. As revenge for killing the son he loved above all else, Brandin obliterates all memory of Tigana, so that no one born outside the province can even hear its name.

Alessan, the only surviving son of the last Prince of Tigana, has sworn to avenge this, and claim back the name of his land. But to kill Brandin is not enough; as he recognises, only the the other's power holds both Brandin and Alberico in check. To be truly free, he must make the wizards destroy each other.

And I could summarise the entire book, and still not come close to why this story is so beautiful. I could talk about the use of fairy tale and legend: how Alessan, the youngest of three sons, is almost bound to be the one who completes his quest; of the twisting of an obscure line of Old Norse poetry into a great battle of good against evil; of Donar, the crippled blacksmith, and of the legend of the Golden Bough replayed: and how its foundation in scholarship makes Kay's writing so much richer. And it would still not be enough.

For me, the realisation of exactly how good this book is came from Brandin. The evil that he did is the very reason for the book's existence. Yet how much would you have to love your son to obliterate an entire people and their memory in his name? How much, to renounce your own hereditary kingdom and remain, watching the Tiganese die off, year by year, in the place where your love had died? How much, to know that in the end, only your own memory would hold the truth of what you had done, and why you had done it? How much evil can we do, over and over, in the name of love?

The point is, of course, that this world, its tragedy, triumph and high farce, is built around humanity. Kay does not need to create evil races, or on-going wars (JRRT, so help me, I am thinking of your orcs and the elves against the dwarves!) to make his magic. I think of Sandre, the exiled Duke, forced to choose between binding himself to his own magic and thus saving the life of his son but almost certainly being killed, or allowing his son to die and continuing to fight for his Dukedom's freedom. And Dianora, going to Brandin's court to kill him, but falling in love, asked to bind him and herself to his vision of what the Palm might become. And Rhun, the poor, broken Fool, given, at the end, a moment of honour. Gods help me, I'm crying as I write this.

And also the poetry of Kay's writing. "Tigana, may my memory of you be like a blade in my soul". And "You are the harbour of my soul's journeying". But also Catriona's ascerbity, the terrible words between Alessan and his mother, and Rovigio's good-natured insulting of his daughters, with the love he bears them never needing to be stated because it's so obvious anyway. Not one word too many, nor one too few.

And finally, the ending. Many people who like this book hate the end, in general accusing it of being too sudden. I will grant that the pace of the book increases manyfold towards the end, but this is natural. The Tiganese, Brandin and Alberico are in one place, having a battle; this is not the time to introduce a sub-plot! I grant, also, that while we do know the fates of around half the major characters, those of the rest are deliberately ambiguous. I can see that the extra ambiguity (or is it a clue?) of the very last line might be annoying, but it also leaves the reader free to imagine. This is an ending made by a storyteller, not an historian, because people go on, even when the stories that have brought them together are ended. Enough ends are tied to end the story, but without creating a great sealed knot.

It is simply the richness of the weaving that makes this so good, and no review can reproduce that. Please, if you only buy one book this lifetime, get this one.