The Tower at Stony Wood

there are too many towers and too many mysterious women in this book

in classic McKillip fever dream fantasy fashion, I have absolutely no idea what in the world just happened. this book is about love and grief btw but at the same time girl that is one too many mysterious all knowing bards. I understand the story but I do not understand the towers. I understand the Themes(tm) and I love and appreciate them dearly for what they are but I am a little bit over the powerful unknown forces. The magic, though... the weaving and the embroidery and the strands of story; Sel (a little on the nose there) and Melanthos, Thayne and Craiche, Cyan Dag and Regis Aurum.
seriously though the sentences in this book are actually dizzying how do you even show more manage to write like that show less

This review is written with a GPL 4.0 license and the rights contained therein shall supersede all TOS by any and all websites in regards to copying and sharing without proper authorization and permissions. Crossposted at WordPress, Blogspot, & Librarything and links at Booklikes, & Goodreads by Bookstooge’s Exalted Permission

Title: The Tower at Stony Wood
Series: -----
Author: Patricia McKillip
Rating: 5 Stars
Genre: Fantasy
Pages: 306
Format: Kindle digital edition

Synopsis: Spoilers

A knight on a quest to free his rightful Queen. A noble on a quest to free his Kingdom. A bard on a quest to free her Sister. A mother on a quest to go back to the sea from which she came.

A story where all the storylines intersect at the oddest places and not show more even the characters know their true motivations.

My Thoughts:

In previous reviews of McKillip's works, I tend to liken her writing as silk; it is beguiling, sensual, sensuous and soft.

A half seen shape at night in the forest, with distant laughter and the faint tinkling of bells. You can't see it in whole, or even distinctly. When you look to your right, you catch a glimpse out of the corner of your eye to your left. When you spin around to catch it behind you, you feel it's eyes on you from the front. You don't know if it is your imagination playing tricks, an elven princess enchanting you or an evil sorcerer leading you astray. The only way to find out is to continue on. Is it a dot of honey on your lover's nose, a glob on a bear's paw or a comb in a bee's nest? What if the honeycomb is a magic sword and the bear is an an enchanted knight and your lover is a witch?

When you wrap fog, silk, honey and darkness into a tapestry of words, then you have this story, this book. And if your very soul is not moved, transported to another realm, then I pity you your grey, joyless existence that you think is life. show less

McKillip combines a variety of classic fairy tale elements into the kind of beautiful dreamy story at which she excels. The main story stars a knight on a quest to save a princess in a tower, but there’s so much more going on and the ending turns much of it on its head. And for fear of spoilers I won’t say anything more other than that you should read it!

I found it hard to believe, but I'm giving this book by Patricia A. McKillip only 4 stars. It's a re-read for me, and one that includes the intricate, extensive language that she is known for. Like Guy Gavriel Kay, reading a book by Ms. McKillip is like sampling rich chocolate with a fine, deep red wine. And because this was a re-read challenge for me, I read through it more quickly than I have read her books in the past. And that's still all good.

The dedication says it all: "For Dave, who gave me Loreena McKennitt's 'The Visit,' an album that includes the song "The Lady of Shalott" based on the poem by Longfellow. So not only is there a king's champion in quest of the lady trapped in a tower, there is also the king's son of a show more neighboring (and warring) kingdom who is in quest for the tower of gold guarded by the dragon. And then there are the women we get to know, who are in their own tower near the sea, watching the trapped woman at her needlework and sewing their own scenes of embroidery.

I just love the descriptions of embroidery: the threads, the colors, choosing a color and letting it guide one's stitching, the revealing of the picture color by color on linen. They give the reader a viewpoint of why we who do needlework are so drawn to it, and there is a delightful scene where the bard corrects a questing knight about the difference between "weaving" and "embroidery."

But at some point the story becomes convoluted. I like the tale within a tale, the mirror within a mirror, but when Thayne of Ysse begins to fight with Cyan Dag in the tower of the dragon, Thayne shifts into something of light. Part of the dragon? A separate entity? The story of mother Sel, who remains drawn to the sea and embroiders a cloak of browns and greys that look like the sea, is a well-known shape-shifting motif. But in an effort to bring the mountains called The Three Sisters into the story of three towers, the story shifts into the un-reality of fantasy.

Still, it is a glorious book for all of its constant shifting, and probably reading the last hundred pages helped clear up a lot that would otherwise have been too confusing. show less

After having this book and it's gorgeous cover haunt my shelf and memory for years, I finally picked it up and read it all the way through. I won't lie: it was hard going for a while. Its beautiful and haunting but its also very difficult to understand without giving it your undivided attention. It forces you to spellbind yourself, because otherwise you can not appreciate it. There is much of it that is straightforward, but then the rest of it is layered in lyrical and abstract magic so that I often found myself wondering if I knew what I was reading/understanding, just like its hapless hero, Cyan Dag. I felt both helpless and awed at the language and even the power of the story. By the end of it, I felt like him, wanting to cry for no show more reason, so glad it was all over, but afraid of its ending.

I think the first time I tried to read this I was too young; the abstractions were too vague for me to harness, and there is a bitterness and maturity to this story that would be lost on youth. Not to say that a child can't read it, but I really think this story would have more power over people who have left magic behind.

In the end, that is what the story is about, returning magic to those who have forgotten it, relearning that there is a power in the world that is so much bigger than ourselves and that we may never fully comprehend. When you're a child you understand in your innocence that you are ignorant and its only when you grow older that you forget that awe and wonder and you believe that you know everything, that the world is as limited as your experience of it.
The Tower of Stony Wood reminds you different. show less

In a classic McKillip style tale, a knight chases all over Skye, a part of the kingdom where magic still happens, while multiple magical women either observe the plot, stir the plot, or are trapped in it. Mythic and magical, this reminds me more of the Harper books than some of her others. As is typical with McKillip, this is strong on magic and character and not dependent on action.

I always want to love McKillip's books because some of them have enchanted and enthralled me. This one was too confusing to rate that level of admiration, though. I felt an affinity for the hero (Cyan Dag), as I was pushed and pulled through a murky tale that never sorted itself out. The setting seemed only slightly identifiable as Skye. Aspects of the story were reminiscent of a fairy-tale like Rapunzel, except here, I never felt there was a 'rescue'.

Why did the lady in the tower ever need rescuing? Who was she really? This remained something of a mystery. It was like being on a switchback road up the mountain, only I remained in the trees the whole time, even at the top. The cover art is luscious and I happen to have a large framed show more print of this illustration. I think the mystery was best represented there. Probably I'll have to re-read the book sometime way later. show less