The first part of GGK’s Sarantine Mosaic. After a plague kills his wife and daughters Crispin is “sailing to Sarantium”; a talented artist he feels life is no longer worth living but fate and chance conspire to send him on a journey. The people he meets along the way and the dangers of life in a world that is changing — politically and in questions about faith and heresy are crafted as intricately as a piece of artwork. Kay is a wonderful writer. ( )

Disappointed...: Guy Gavriel Kay came very highly recommended, so I was quite excited about reading the first book in the duology. Doubly so because I've always been fascinated by the Roman and Byzantine Empires, and Sarantium is Byzantium with the serial numbers filed off.

Others have mentioned the very long, and I have to say insufferable, introduction. It was exceedingly long and tedious, but I persevered as I have something very rare these days, an actual attention span. Even though the introduction becomes relevant later on it could easily have been cut down to four or five pages.

When we meet the main character I have some sympathy for him, I think he's a bit of a jerk, and your typical "reluctant hero". Nevertheless the machinations in the beginning of the story are somewhat interesting. The reasons why he finally accepts the offer to go to Sarantium is also fairly well played, as is the visit to the alchemist.

I found it tedious, but I will grant that it was in a sense well written.

It's hard to give more details without spoiling the story but I will say that the hero struck me as an insufferable moron. Yes the character is consistent; he was consistently a moron whose sharp tongue got him into a lot of trouble. His supposed wit only seemed to get him out of problems that his own stupidity had gotten him into.

However that's not necessarily a deal killer, once more that's fairly stereotypical. So is the fact that the hero has lost his entire family in the plague (I'm not really giving anything away, it's revealed very early on). I could live with that.

The problem is that I don't care about the main character, he keeps talking about his grief. He doesn't sleep with a young woman because of it. However I don't *feel* any grief, I don't feel like I'm watching someone who is deeply in grief.

Likewise the young woman (whose name I shan't reveal to avoid spoilers) doesn't feel real either. She's the Suffering Young Woman and the Victim, yes her sob story is described from her point of view, her being unable to go home, etc. It's presented in such a dispassionate way that I find it very hard to *care* about any of it.

The only character that actually seemed to come alive was the hero's bodyguard. His thoughts, actions, and behaviour seemed very realistic, and it was possible to relate to them.

Even if you disregard the characters the book isn't even all that exciting, we're constantly told that they can never recover from an incident on their journeys. I just didn't feel any grandeur, or mystery, or power about the incident or the aftermath. The fog and the crazy cultists were reminiscent of a cheap slasher film, nothing more cerebral than that.

All too often we see things like "And that is why I want you to do this" or "And that sent a chill down his spine," followed by an infodump to make us understand *why* this was such a horrible thing. As examples I offer the Zubir and the Empress' dolphins, neither of them inspired the awe and worry they should have.

The plot bounces up and down the chronology, and between points of view, like a deranged jackrabbit. Over and over again we get a scene, then we skip back in time to a different character, and see his or her perspective on the events leading up to the scene. Sometimes we're then shown that the scene is really something *quite different*! The first time this happened it was alright, the second it was a little annoying, the third, and fourth, and so on times...

Well it got very, very annoying, very fast. Nor was it effective as a story telling device.

Then there's the Jadite faith, which is meant to stand in for Christianity. I'm suppose to care about the different sects and beliefs thereof, or at least see why they're important. I don't. Mainly because the portrayal of religion is so shallow and half-hearted that I can't be bothered. I mean Harry Turtledove of all people did a better job of portraying religious and sectarian strife in his Basil Agyros / Agent of Byzantium series! And that is a series of cheap action spy thrillers set in an alternate Byzantium!

Perhaps it's worse for me since I recognised all of the Byzantine, sorry Sarantian, characters, and I know exactly what incidents he's referring to (and yes all the important Sarantians are based on equivalent historic figures, up to and including the charioteer). Perhaps I'm not able to enjoy it because I'm aware of what tribes and pagan gods he's referring to. Perhaps I'm troubled because I recognise where the Jadite faith comes from (a mixture of Sol Invictus and Mithraism unless I miss my bet).

Thing is that sort of knowledge should *increase* my enjoyment of the book.

One quick note, some people complain that the charioteering factions in Sarantium are too simplistic. That's unfair, since Guy Gavriel Kay ripped them off wholesale from Byzantium, it may be simplistic but, hey, worked for the real Byzantines. Beside how sophisticated are modern day sports fans?

Overall I didn't like this book much, and when I finished it I decided I wouldn't bother to get the sequel. Quite frankly I don't care *what* happens next.

Two stars for getting all the grammar right, and for good research. Not recommended.

Summary: To say a person is "sailing to Sarantium" is to mean that they are at a turning point in their life, heading towards a reshaping, and a future of consequence. For Sarantium is the holy city, center of the world, beloved of god, the seat of beauty, wealth, refinement, and power. Crispin, a mosaicist from the Western reaches of Sarantium's influence, is summoned by the Emperor of Sarantium to leave behind his home, the graves of his wife and daughters, and to come to the City to consult on a mosaic so large that it dwarfs imagination. However, the message comes to late for him to take ship, and so he must journey overland, through a world of the old gods who have not entirely submitted to Sarantine rule, and if he survives that, he must still face the intrigues and politics of the most powerful players in the City itself.

Review: Sailing to Sarantium falls about in the middle of pack of Guy Gavriel Kay's work that I've read so far, although I'm reserving final judgement until I read the sequel, Lord of Emperors. It's clear that he's setting up quite a lot of elements in the first book that are going to pay off later, and I'm certainly interested to see where it all leads. However, that same "setting up" comprised much of my problems with this book. In other series/trilogy/duologys, even in Kay's earlier work, each book has its own arc while still fitting into the overall storyline. Here, however, there are few or no pay-offs, and everything feels like it's set-up. This had the effect of distancing me from the work - Kay's been good at making me cry in the past, but I wasn't emotionally involved in the work this time at all. I was still absorbed in the book, and it was compulsively readable, but being intellectually interested in what happens next is not the same as emotional involvement with the characters. It's not through any fault of the writing or characterization, though - Kay's writing is as flawless and as resonant as ever, and his characters are so much like real people that it feels as though you've met them already. I think my problem was entirely with the pacing... which, if the second book pans out, isn't really a problem at all. 4 out of 5 stars.

Recommendation: Engagingly and beautifully written, but not enough happened to make this one of Kay's better works - at least not on its own merits. It's good enough that I'm absolutely going to read the sequel, and I've got no doubts that it will redeem my reservations about this one. ( )

Whenever I talk about why I love Kay's books, I always talk about the elegance of his writing style. I feel there is no other word that describes the way he can turn a phrase, or how he can weave past and present tense together in a story to give greater meaning to people or events.

Sailing to Sarantium was the first book of Kay's that I read, and I, like other reviewers, wondered a bit at the slow pacing of the beginning. This book truly comes alive during subsequent readings, when one can put all the puzzle pieces together at the beginning and see the foreshadowing of what is to come. ( )

An artisan undertakes a journey to the most celebrated city in the world.

I've read this book twice now. The first time through, I was struck by the feel Kay manages to create. This isn't a happy book, by any means, but I always felt entirely comfortable in the world. The setting, (an alterante version of 6th century Byzantium and its surrounding environs), was so well drawn that I never felt as though I were reading fantasy. There are many parallels with real historical places that help add veracity to the text. As an art historian, I was particularly delighted with Varena, (this world's Ravena equivalent), and with the differences between Eastern and Western mosaics. The whole thing felt so real that when the fantastical elements did appear I, like Crispin, initially assumed they were slight-of-hand.

I was also very impressed with Kay's talent for character. That first time, I found that I didn't feel particularly strongly about any of these people... but I did feel like I knew them through and through. They're remarkably well delineated. Kay manages to quickly and fully convey just who a person is with a few well-placed background details and some telling dialogue.

So I was very, very impressed after my first reading. I promptly went out and acquired the rest of Kay's bibliography, and I consider it one of the best literary decisions I've ever made.

This second time, though... well, it utterly trumped my first reading. Some books, some stories, are just better when you know what's coming. I found myself noticing much, much more. I could see the groundwork Kay laid for the next volume, and many times I found myself in tears just thinking of where all this was leading. I discovered that I did, in fact, feel strongly for all these peple. I found myself in awe of the way Kay had layered each individual element, placing small pieces of each story into the larger whole to create a literary mosaic of surprising depth and beauty.

I really cannot recommend this book highly enough. It's far from action-packed, but those who enjoy character-based stories and intricate settings should find it more than worthwhile. ( )

The first of the two book Sarantine Mosaic series, Sailing to Sarantium is a well researched and very involved alternative history of the Byzantine empire. A mosaicist is called to Sarantium to help with the construction of a temple to the god, Jad and becomes embroiled in political intrigue. ( )

Livejournal entry ( )

Another fantastic effort; I think this together with its sequel are my favourite among all of Kay's work so far. ( )

http://nhw.livejournal.com/862776.htm...

I've read two very bad novels about Justinian, Belisarius, and seventh-century Constantinople, one by Robert Graves and one by Eric Flint and David Drake. This is a damn good novel about them, one I had been meaning to get around to for ages. It is fortuitous (or maybe not completely) that I have been reading it so soon after my own visit to Istanbul two weeks ago; having just been there, I really found Kay's description of the city, the Hippodrome, and the grand Sanctuary of Holy Wisdom helping me make sense of what I saw and letting me imagine what the place would have been like 1400 years ago. Kay also brings to life the decaying civilisation of the former imperial territories to the west, and the lonely and dangerous land route to the capital. (As for the latter, I also have eerie memories of driving its modern equivalent, the former Highway of Brotherhood and Unity, between Zagreb and Belgrade in a thick winter fog, hoping to avoid the minefields.)

And yet of course this book isn't ostensibly about Justinian, or Belisarius, or Theodora, or the Byzantine Empire, but about the emperor Valerius, his general Leontes, his wife Alixana, and the empire of Sarantium. It is reasonable to ask if it is worth the hassle of Kay renaming a few personal and place names to tell his story. I think it is. For a start, it liberates him from any obligation to stick too closely to the historical events from which he has drawn his story, and in particular to be a bit more inventive about the religious beliefs and practices of his characters; and I suppose to write about faith and belief as universal human experiences, while separating them from what the reader may know or think about specific religions in our own world. And second, it allows him to inject a fantasy element or two, specifically an alchemist who can create telepathic metal birds, and an intervention from the Old Gods of the type favoured by Lois McMaster Bujold in her most recent novels.

Having raved about the scenery, I am now going to rave about the plot and characters. The core of the book is the story of Crispin the mosaicist's journey from the western city of Varena (ie Ravenna, Kay's least opaque renaming) to the capital to decorate the new Sanctuary, overcoming personal tragedy and deadly political conspiracy. But Kay builds up the mosaic of the narrative from lots of little glimpses of perspective as well, in a memorable sequence actually telling one part of the story backwards, each new viewpoint character taking us to an earlier stage of the action. All really well done, and yet the worldbuilding is even better than that.

Well, I really enjoyed this, as I have enjoyed all Kay's books (apart from his first, coauthored with a more famous writer). I wish I had bought the sequel at the same time as this. ( )

As usual Kay writes believable multilayered characters, placed in a equally believable world.

The book started slow with a rather long prologue and then an initial chapter meandering to get to the central storyline carried by the main characters but Kay writes in such a beautiful way I'm ready to forgive him - when the story gets going you can't put the book down, and well there you realise that those slow going initial parts was important.

Although loyalty and belief - as usual - are central themes this book is more about loss and the search for something to replace that same loss; he also drops some interesting notes about how history gets mangled/used as political tools...

Luckily I've already ordered part two - Lord of emperors and it should be on it's way by now; this book is clearly not stand alone - it only sets the stage for the bigger play!
Or so I hope! ( )

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

Vivid characters and setting. ( )

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) ( )

My first Guy Gavriel Kay book. It was highly recommended so I was surprised when I felt it was starting off slow and not so interesting. But once I realized he was laying the groundwork for this new world that would quicken into a rich environment full of interesting charaters and plots and intrigue it moved much faster. It should definitely be immediately followed by Lord of Emperors to complete the story - which is makes this duo amazing - leaving me sighing and hugging the book to me. Oh what a fool I am! Hehe! I am so very impressed and quite excited to read more of Kay's work.

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 ighy recommend it. http://www.anders.com/lectures/lars_b... ( )

reviews:
http://www.sfreviews.net/sarantium.ht...
http://www.emcit.com/emcit058.shtml#P...

Kay's books:
http://www.locusmag.com/SFAwards/Db/N...

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) I've always been moderately interested in Byzantium - sufficiently that I recognized the historical bit from which the story was grown, at least - and equally fascinated with Kay's turn of phrase. I loved this duology, but I think it was perhaps somewhat poorly paced - this volume is very slow, and unless the reader is able to stop looking for much in the way of plot advancement and instead simply enjoy the prose, it might seem somewhat tedious. The payoff is worth it, though. ( )