1610: A Sundial In A Grave

I bought this book fifteen years ago. And it has sat unread on my bookshelves ever since. Despite the fact I’m a big fan of Gentle’s fiction. But. She writes such big novels. 1610: Sundial in a Grave is 594pp! And my copy is the hardback edition. It must weigh about ten kilos. (Slight exaggeration.) I am a big fan of brevity (see the Apollo Quartet…), but I also recognise the appeal of longer works. And with Gentle you know you’re certainly getting your money’s worth. Her research is incredible. 1610: Sundial in a Grave is, like Ash: A Secret History, a series of nested narratives, with the innermost one providing the bulk of the contents. An “introduction” describes how the author (unnamed, but surely Gentle herself) was show more as a child a big fan of a particular (invented) Dumas-esque book, and was surprised to learn it was based on real historical figures. There then follows a fragment of a document by Robert Fludd, a Jacobean occult philosopher and mathematician (like the earlier Dr John Dee), which is described as one of several documents found with the memoirs of Rochefort. And it is Rochefort’s memoirs which form the main narrative of 1610: Sundial in a Grave. The disgraced son of the retired Marshal of France, Rochefort is responsible for the assassination of Henri IV, at the instigation of Henri’s wife Marie de Medici, although he had been blackmailed into it and had planned for it to fail as his master, the Duc de Sully, wanted… But Rochefort ends up fleeing France, knowing there are plenty of people who want his head. Including hothead duellist Dariole, who had been challenging Rochefort for months. All of which leads to Rochefort on a Normandy beach fighting Dariole, rescuing Saburo, the sole survivor of a Japanese mission to King James I, taking ship to England with both, becoming embroiled in the plot by Robert Fludd to assassinate James I, foiling that plot, and… It’s all about the mathematics invented by Bruno Giordano – a real historical figure who appears in, and inspired, Gentle’s White Crow novels – which is capable of predicting the future, especially a comet due to obliterate life on Earth in the twenty-first century (yes, please). As well as numerous events before that cataclysm. Rochefort and Dariole are great characters, not that much different from White Crow and Casaubon (and yes, Dariole’s secret was pretty obvious right from the start) inasmuch as they’re both almost too good to be true. There’s a unexpected strain of BDSM throughout the novel – the relationship between Rochefort and Dariole is predicated on it – but if anything it adds depth to their interactions. The historical detail is, unsurprisingly, hugely convincing. Gentle does historical filth and smells extremely well. At 594pp, 1610: Sundial in a Grave is not a short book, but it doesn’t feel like it overstays its welcome. Surprisingly, the book ends on a happy note, although there’s a cunning slingshot inasmuch as it suggests an origin, and a purpose, for the Rosicrucians, which ties into the whole occult mathematics mythos. I thought the book excellent, and I’m only sorry I didn’t read it sooner. And I really do need to read two other books by Gentle I own which I’ve yet to read. show less

Mary Gentle is definitely one of my favorite authors. In "1610," she continues with some of the themes that run through much of her work – historical settings, swordswomen, and hermetic magic.

Rochefort is loyal man to the Duc Sully, a member of the court of France. But when Marie de Medici embroils the unwilling Rochefort in her conspiracy to kill her husband the King – and that assassination attempt is unexpectedly successful – Rochefort must flee the country, also half-unwillingly bringing along the headstrong young duelist Dariole (whom he can't decide if he would rather kill or ravish), and soon acquiring a shipwrecked Japanese ambassador/samurai, Saburo. However, practically no sooner have the unlikely trio assembled show more themselves in England, that a separate group of conspirators want to compel Rochefort to assist in yet another regicide – this time that of King James. And this conspiracy, headed by the mysterious Doctor Fludd, and backed by the Crown Prince, seems much more insidiously dangerous – because the Doctor seems able to truly divine the future through his mathematical equations. And the future seen through these equations shows that much more than the fate of a kingdom may rest on the outcome of this conspiracy.

Although Gentle sets up a situation that would seemingly be very unlikely in the 17th century, her well-researched details make her theories at least seem possible. The device of having the book purport to be a computer-reconstructed version of a damaged manuscript works well, also. And with the addition of an awfully sweet sadomasochistic love story... well, I'd have to say that I'd recommend this book to anyone who loves reading Alexandre Dumas, but can't help wishing for more spicy bits... show less

http://nhw.livejournal.com/32752.html

1610 is a good book, all right, a fascinating and somewhat kinky look at the year of the title and the possibilities of changing history. But of course any fictional scenario involving deterministic prediction of the future has to actually find a way of averting said deterministic prediction to make the plot interesting; I have never seen that done convincingly and this is no exception. I felt I recognised too many elements from both Ash and the only other Mary Gentle book I've read, The Architecture of Desire (also set in a seventeenth century that never was - cf Pepys) without really much new being added. And basically it is too long.

It's odd that one of the the blurbs for this, not the one on this actual edition, contains two big plot points which are not present in the text. I am left wondering of there were significant revisions at some point, or no one familiar with the text ever bothered to read the blurb, or there is some kind of time travel/magic/multiverse shenanigans. Along the same vein, I have been wanting to read this for years because I thought it was about Christopher Marlowe, which it is not, at all.

Nor did I realize it was a swashbuckling extravaganza, and fun with that. In retrospect, I wonder if Neal Stephenson considered it an influence on The Baroque Cycle.

I'm glad it's been reissued: it deserves more readers

This novel presents itself as a true story, the memoirs of a Renaissance spy and duelist named Valentin Rochefort. Valentin begins the year 1610 in France, but when he accidentally assassinates King Henri IV, he’s forced to flee the country. Along the way, he joins forces with Dariole, a boy with rapier skills to rival his own, and a Japanese ambassador to the English court. The three of them travel to England together, where Valentin is roped into another assassination plot, this time against King James I. Now Valentin must outwit the would-be conspirators and save the king – even though his chief adversary is a mathematical genius who claims to be able to predict the future.

The plot of this book is exciting, and the book itself show more ought to be exciting, but for some reason I never really got into it. First of all, I didn’t like the cutesy introduction by the “translator” (actually the author) about how she found this old manuscript that sheds a new light on history. I was also put off by the detailed description of certain unusual sexual practices. However, the story itself was interesting enough that I stuck with it. The pacing of the novel is strangely slow, though, given how many action scenes there are (lots of duels and such). I did enjoy the Renaissance setting, but overall I feel like this book was a really promising idea whose execution fell flat. show less

This is quite a blend of historical fiction with touches of fantasy and eroticism with some scenes that may shock some readers; a love story with duels and plenty of political intrigue and conspiracies. You’ll be forgiven for thinking you’re reading a gay romance to begin with, but then the book takes a turn. That’s not to say it’s an easy read. Often I get through 100 pages a day, even when it’s a complex plot, but found I needed to take my time with this. This mostly gripped me, but there was a sense of wondering whether I’d ever finish, although it’s hard to say why. I’ve read books more involved than this, but some scenes felt needlessly long. I can’t help feeling I’m doing the book a disservice by saying some show more pages flashed by, others were a slow amble, and the tone of the book changed throughout, which also threw me. The author is meticulous, maybe overly so, but I found sticking with this worthwhile. A story that begins in France with the arrangement of an assassination moves on across the world. show less

It is not that unusual to combine a fantasy setting with some historical overtones, but the way Mary Gentle does it in an unusual way. At times when reading 1610 I was struck with how smart and intelligent the story is told. For the average fantasy-reader, used to the more mediocre standard of fantasy stories, this could be a lot to chew on. But for readers who like a challenge and are willing to go that extra step to keep up with the author, 1610 is a rollercoaster ride.