An excellent conclusion to the Sarantine Mosaic. Passionate and moving, this novel has something for everyone. Kay has proven yet again that he is a master of the genre. No detail is too small, no character or plot left undeveloped. A must read! ( )

The second part of the Sarantine Mosaic is a wonderful fantasy, GGK’s reworking of Byzantium is a gem of a book. An intricate interweaving of light and dark; pain and hope; as beautiful as the mosaics crafted. The characters, descriptions and use of language are a delight. ( )

This book is a great follow on to Sailing to Sarantium. Crispin the mosaicist is in the middle of everything again, as he works to complete his masterpiece on the dome of the cathedral. He is the confidante to 2 queens and several other important women, and is right in the middle of things - even when he doesn't know it.
A lot of activity is packed into this book, though it is mostly on a personal scale, not on the scale of the empire - until the end, when things move in major and unexpected directions.
This is well written, with good style, excellent descriptions and great characterization. I'd like to know one thing though - how does a guy get to be as popular as Crispin? Every beautiful and powerful woman in Sarantium is after him, one way or another, even when he's just being an honest artisan. (no, this isn't covertly a romance novel) Makes you want to take up the art! ( )

Bought hard copies for my personal library: I've read all the novels Kay has written that are out in the market. I LOVED his Mosaic series and his Lions although I found all his other books rather shallow and vague to hold my attention--but I do need to reread them because sometimes it is a matter of timing. I've also done mosaics myself, albeit not on the grand scale that the character does, Crispin's art and the way her perceives things is familiar to me. I found the characters in Sailing and Lord very well developed and realistic, Kay's use of history quite thorough and the story intriguing. There's enough high action but more importantly, there's all that political subterfuge that made Roman politics so--deadly. What I like best about the Mosaic series is it focuses on how the everyday, "middle class" people lived and thought, what their daily lives might have been like, how the changing tides of politics affected everyone's lives. Ovid, Homer and Hollywood gave us insights on what life among the ruling classes was like, we have studies on what a gladiator's life might have been like, what a Roman slave or prostitute was often like. But Kay's series offers us a glimpse into what life for the regular folks like you and I might have been like. All with a touch of the supernatural/fantasy to spice up the story. It's a perfectly seasoned, subtle, beautifully blended meal--and it doesn't make me fat no matter how many times I devour it.

Summary: Crispin the mosaicist has come, under imperial summons, to the capital city of Sarantium, and there has been given charge of creating a mosaic larger and grander than anything he could ever have aspired to. Much as he would like to, however, he cannot simply retreat up his scaffolding to his work; the city swirls around him, rife with depths and complexities, currents both personal and political and frequently both. A time of change is coming - rumors of a war being planned against Crispin's homeland, his exiled queen friendless and alone in the great city, violence in the streets and in the stands of the Hippodrome, a pagan doctor and spy arriving from the lands to the east, and above and below it all, the smooth and treacherous subtleties of the most powerful imperial court on earth.

Review: I can understand why, from a publisher's point of view, the Sarantine Mosaic was split up into two books - a reader is more likely to take a chance on two 550-page books than on one giant 1100-page one. Yet, from the point of view of a reader, I wonder if that was a mistake. I read these books relatively close together - about a month apart - but I can instantly tell that they would have been better, and I would have been more involved, had I read them sequentially. That's part - but not all - of the reason why I think I didn't connect with this book as much as I have with much of Kay's other writing. The other part is that I never really connected with any of the characters. This book felt a little more distant to me than some of Kay's others... it concerns itself with broad, cataclysmic, history-making changes rather than with the more personal revolutions of many of his other books, and I felt the difference. At least for me, the personal is more powerful than the political, even when the political is built out of the personal, as it is in Lord of Emperors.

The format is all in short sections from a wide variety of viewpoints. This style isn't unfamiliar territory for Kay - he uses it to some extent in all his books - but it's employed here to much more dramatic effect. There is a reason this duology is called The Sarantine Mosaic, and it's to do with the writing as much as with the profession of the main character. Little glittering chips of scenes, some of which are nearly incomphrensible on their own (several would have gone straight over my head had I not already read The Lions of Al-Rassan), but put together form a shining, detailed whole. There's a definite flair to the writing, but the mosaic-style approach and the lack of a strong main character to get attached to (Crispin's around, but his viewpoint does not command a majority of the scenes) led to my having a harder time getting emotionally invested in the book.

The writing, though.... Oh, the writing! Kay's a phenomenal writer, of fantasy and of literature and of fantastic literature, able to conjure mature, complex, multi-layered characters, intricate plots, and vivid environments with an elegance that's difficult to describe. There is a touch more supernatural presence and magic in this one than in several of Kay's other works (Lions and A Song for Arbonne had very little, if any), although less than in Tigana or even in this novel's predecessor, Sailing to Sarantium. The result is something that's not quite historical fiction, not quite fantasy, but some amalgam of the two, driven by a powerful narrative voice and a joy to read. 4 out of 5 stars.

Recommendation: Not my personal favorite of Kay's work, but an excellent book nonetheless. If you're going to read this series, though (and if you enjoy fantasy, or any well-written, mature fiction, I highly recommend you do), buy both and read them together - too much of the power of the story gets lost, otherwise. ( )

http://nhw.livejournal.com/945115.htm...

My write-up of the first of these two books, Sailing to Sarantium, ended by wishing that I had bought the sequel at the same time. I repeat that wish now. The two books are so closely intertwined that it's a shame to let the memory of one fade before you start the other. Anyway, like its predecessor, this book is simply a triumph.

But with a difference. Where Sailing to Sarantium stuck fairly closely to the history of our world, in particular the story of Justinian, Theodora, Belisarius and the Hagia Sophia, Lord of Emperors starts by nibbling away at the edges, and then abruptly and brutally swerves into its own timeline a bit over half way through. Suddenly, it all is up for grabs. Viewpoint characters die horribly. Any certainty we had is lost. I think that even if you don't know anything about Byzantium, it's a dramatic development on a par with George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones. But if you do know what is 'supposed' to happen, the impact is incredible.

But the historical knowingness is not what makes this a great book. (And I add to that historical knowingness the accelerated appearance of Kay's versions of the rise of Islam and a specific spoilerish Christian controversy, brought into the novel for justifiable plot reasons respectively about a century and about two centuries too early.) The overall title of the series is The Sarantine Mosaic, and this is not only a reference to the grand work of art which Caius Crispius is brought to Sarantium to construct, but also surely a reference to the way the books are built up from little pieces - a progression of tight-third-person narratives (some crucial characters to the plot, some purely incidental) - within the overall structure of a framing plot, most of which in Lord of Emperors takes place in the course of two intricately and intimately described 24-hour periods, two days which illuminate the book's structure like the mosaics on either side of an orthodox church.

And apart from fantastic characters, desperate sex, Machiavellian politics, and an unforgettable chariot race, the book - indeed both books - are a deep reflection on the place of art in life, and how some are called to it, some respond to it, and some reject it. A couple of people said they felt the ending of Lord of Emperors was a bit of a let-down. I agree that the emotional place where the key characters end up has been signalled too far in advance to retain the dramatic momentum which Kay probably intended. But read it again, and look at what he is saying about art and the artist. And then look at the work that inspired him. I don't think you will remain unmoved. ( )

Together with its prequel, my favourite Kay effort. Loved the characters and Byzantine setting. ( )

Livejournal entry ( )

Yet again a truly amazing book from Kay's imagination!

This time he has made a compelling mosaic made of intertvined characters and tales - if there's a true main character that is Crispin the mosaicist, but sometimes the story leaves him for tens of pages before coming back to him. It's a sign of a master that despite all these characters, all these tales, the story is poignant and vibrating of life.

The shifting of perspective, from ruler to ruled, from patrician to labourer, telling the same tale through the eyes of different people - even sometimes telling about the same event as experienced by different people - adds depth and believability on a grand scale. And as ever Kay has the power to surprise, to bring something unexpected - to deliberately create a moment of surprise.

This duology should be bound as one voulme together with the first instalment, Sailing to Sarantium, as they actually is one book split in two volumes. Probably the publishers' desicion, but wasted on me - I really would have wanted them to be one volume.

Anyway - The Sarantine Mosaic should be read! ( )

The concluding volume of The Sarantine Mosaic.

Having read this twice now, I can firmly state that it is one of the most remarkable books I've ever read.

That said...

The Sarantine Mosaic is a dulogy about change. While the first volume, (Sailing to Sarantium), dealt with the changes we bring upon ourselves when we take life-altering risks, Lord of Emperors is more concerned with the changes that are forced upon us. Kay does a beautiful job of showing ordinary people who are placed in extraordinary situations that challenge and test them. They are forced to adapt on both a personal level and a social level, and it makes for fascinating reading.

The first time through, there were a couple of points where I felt my interest wane somewhat. This wasn't a problem the second time. Armed with full knowledge of how events would unfold, I felt myself free to revel in the story. I appreciated each element for what it was: a brilliantly polished piece of a literary mosaic composed of artisans and soldiers, charioteers and royals, cooks and physicians, broken down into a series of glittering tesserae and reassembled into a stunning whole.

And the whole thing is beautifully, profoundly personal. While there are a number of tense political things going on, it's the characters and their interactions that make this book something special. The political situation almost acts as a simple backdrop against which these people play out their lives. Make no mistake, the politics, (and the factional rivalries, especially those surrounding the chariot races), are fascinating in and of themselves, but it's the characters that make them really feel important.

This is most certainly a book that rewards the rereader. I enjoyed it just as much the second time through, and I cannot recommend it highly enough. Read Sailing to Sarantium first, though; these two volumes are really more like one very long book, and you won't get the full impact unless you read them both. ( )

I loved this book, and the first one in the duology. Kay is definitely at his best here, and had me on edge throughout this book as things kept happening and I didn't know what to expect. The ending was perfect. I still just don't know what to say, except that this book is utterly beautiful. ( )

http://www.sfreader.com/read_review.a... ( )

The Sarantine Mosaic (Sailing to Sarantium, Lord of Emperors) by Guy Gavriel Kay: It's close call between this and his Lions of Al-Rassen for favorite Kay. Both are inhabited by characters who welcome me each time I arrive, and a story that sings. But this cycle, venturing deeper then ever into the spiritual and psychological life of Kay’s people, catches my heart.

Most of Kay's writings (everything but the Fionavar cycle) are classed in the sub-genre he created, historical fantasy. The Sarantine Empire is a reflection of the real-world Byzantine Empire; the city of Sarantium is Constantinople, now Istanbul. And the great dome described in the book can be glimpsed in the still-standing Hagia Sophia, the dome that twins with the Blue Mosque to create the Istanbul skyline.

Through the eyes of a temperamental mosacist named Crispin, we watch as the Empire survives yet another religious war, this one over the hands of artists. And with this simple, unwilling man, we are bewildered by the fog-stained forests and burning city streets, and suffer the conflict between violent tradition and heartfelt faith.

This is Kay at his best, which means stunning diction, stakes that raise subtly, suddenly, and with inevitable force, and characters that you want to marry. This is also possibly the best introductory Kay, starting you off with a person who wants nothing whatsoever to do with the politics and fates of his world, and taking you through the map with him. (“possibly”, because the Fionavar Tapestry is also a good first, since the main characters begin in the University of Toronto and are completely freaked out by the mystical world they tumble into) ( )

The first series I've read by Kay and boy am I impressed. The spectacular ending to Sailing to Sarantium completes the story - leaving me sighing and hugging the book to me. Don't you just love when a book ends just the way you were hoping it would - especially by surprise! The wonderfully flawed characters and interweavings of them all is so well done. I can't wait to read more by Kay!

On a side note - I came across this series when looking into Byzantium Fiction after listening to a great podcast about this era's great emperors, so if you are into podcasts I highy recommend it. http://www.anders.com/lectures/lars_b... ( )

I still remember a lot of the things I thought and felt the first time I read those two books, because it was fairly recently (about three years ago, large chunks read on the night ferry from Angelsey to Dublin as I just couldn't stop reading and refused to sleep). I was actually surprised how much of the plot I still remembered. And I think it's partly because I remembered that much of it that this time there we completely different things which struck me and reduced me to tears/laughter/outbreak of random other emotion.

I think, stylistically, the Mosaic is Kay's best work. In it, he shows that he is in complete mastery and control of his craft. Some of the things he pulls off are amazing. The pacing for one is absolutely astonishing. The second part of the first book (over 200 pages) describes events which take place in the space of 24 hours (the day after Crispin arrives in Sarantium). So, for that matter, does the first part of the second book (another 200 pages, the day of Kasia and Carullus's wedding), and most of the second part of the second book (the day of Valerius' death). Despite this, I personally couldn't stop turning the pages. Kay uses shifts in narrative perspective and tense so cleverly, it's dazzling. He reveals bits of plot slowly, but because of the shifts in perspective the reader barely has time to assimilate everything. Reading the books feels a bit like seeing Sarantium for the first time - absolutely overwhelming.

In most of his other novels, Kay is extremely careful of when he shifts to present tense. In the Mosaic, he uses it on a more regular basis, but in places where if flows naturally out of and into the surrounding passages. There's is only one place where the shift back into past tense seems extremely harsh and abrupt - after Valerius' death. And that has an effect of its own. The reader definitely gets the feeling that this is the end, that an rea is over and whatever comes after it will not be a smooth transition.

Another example of Kay's absolute control over the writing is the way he plays with the reader's emotions. I remember this from my first reading of the books. He takes a long time to set up Valerius' death. It starts with Alixana's visit to the island, then we get a chariot race, all the time dreading what we know is going to happen in the palace. This for me created a feeling of utter doom. I could no imagine Sarantium going on after Valerius. And at the same time, Kay kept giving us glimpses of the future, reassuring us that there would a future. He does it when he mentions that Cleander would one day write his Reflections. And there is one quote which for me puts everything into perspective:

"The first of what would be one thousand, six hundred and forty-five triumphs for the Blues. By the time the boy in that chariot retired eighteen years later only two names in the long history of the Sarantium Hippodrome would have won more races, and no one who followed him would do so. There would be three statues to Taras of Megarium in the spina to be torn down with all the others, seven hundred years after, when the great changes came."

What this is saying to me is: "If you think the death of an Emperor is the end of Sarantium, think again."

On the other hand, despite some very touching moments, I don't think the Mosaic has the raw emotional power I found in Lions. To use one of Kay's own images, Lions for me is a bit like the image of Jad in the chapel in Sauradia - so powerful it floored me both times I read it. The Mosaic, on the other hand, is more like Crispin's mosaic on the dome in Sarantium: still powerful and emotional, but above all a mastery of the craft.

One of the really nice touches about the Mosaic is the historical accuracy of the setting. A lot of the characters (Valerius, Alixana, Leontes, Pertennius, the Greens and the Blues) are based on real historical figures, and a lot of the plot (the Victory Riot, Ashar going into the desert, Pertennius' Secret History, mosaics in Varena) is based on real events. Of course, there are also a lot of divergences, but the picture Kay paints of Byzantium is fascinating. When I first read the Mosaic, I did some historical research and reached the conclusions that Islam was founded around the same time as Justinian ruled in Byzantium. I was amused and gratified to see Kay mention this.

Like all of Kay's books, the Mosaic, too, is about loss; and moving on. It starts with loss (Crispin's loss of his family, Styliane's loss of her father and her life) and ends with loss (Alixana's loss of her life, Crispin's loss of his work). It shows how different characters deal with loss and succeed or fail to move beyond it. It shows change and destruction, and at the same time makes a compelling case for hope and faith in the future.

A lot of it, I think, boils down to what Rustem says: we have to bend, or we break. We see a lot of extremely strong characters, all facing change and destruction. Some of them bend; and other break. Two of those who break strike me in particular: Styliane, who cannot move beyond loss and hate and revenge and whom I find myself unable to hate despite her deeds; and Thenais, whose world is so frozen that the slightest tension or pressure makes shatter.

And then there are those who do bend, and who through bending move on. Kasia finds a new life. Gisel, through being clever and flexible and probably also being luckier than one might think she deserves, not only stays alive but keeps her kingdom and becomes Empress. Crispin, despite all that life has thrown in his path, goes on, lives. Above all, though, there is Alixana. Despite, or perhaps because of, who and what she is, after tremendous loss, she, too, moves on.

There are two defining moments to Alixana, I think. The first is during the victory riot. "The vestments of Empire are seemly for a shroud, my lord. Are they not?" And then dropping her Porphyry cloak on the island after finding out about Lecanus' escape. These may seem contradictory at a first glance, but I think they are two sides of the same coin. It is not only about bending, so as not to break; is also about knowing when to bend and when to stand in the face of change.

The pairing of Crispin and Alixana at the end also seems unlikely at first. Thinking about it again, however, there is something between them throughout the books. It starts even before they meet, with the death of Crispin's wife and with Alixana during the Victory Riot. There is a lot of interaction between them, and we see Alixana trusting Crispin without even knowing why. And then she asks him how he lived after his wife died. He cannot answer, but she finds the answer for herself and thus the way to him and a new life. Yes, Alixana and Valerius were very much two halves of a whole; but once Valerius was gone, Alixana had the choice: she could die, or she could move on.

Finally, I would like to say that a lot of highly unpleasant things involving swords, or tesserae, or possibly both, and which Crispin or Carullus could describe much better than me, should be done to Leontes. He is a spoilt arrogant brat. He is also a religious zealot. I cannot stand religious zealots. In fact, I have very little patience for religion in general. And I feel sorry for Gisel marrying him. While Gisel is definitely a match for Alixana and with passage of time one can see her become even more so, Leontes is no match for Petrus. His failings, however, are in many respects what makes the Mosaic so good and what makes the loss - of the mosaics, of a culture and an era, of a civilisation - so keenly felt. ( )

Reviewed at FBS - http://www.fantasybookspot.com/?q=nod... ( )

(Amy) This second volume of the Sarantine Mosaic has all the good qualities of Sailing to Sarantium (fascinating setting, beautiful writing) without its most glaring flaw: pacing. The story has begun to gather momentum in this volume, and the reader no longer has to work to be interested. It is, in fact, rather gripping. And absolutely gorgeous. ( )