I’d say that “All the Seas of the World”, the newest novel by Guy Gavriel Kay, is a good starting point for those who’d like to get a taste of what his writing is like. It doesn’t mean that I think it’s an exquisite, unusual novel. An entry point to someone’s work doesn’t have to be unusual. But it’s a good book nonetheless—more complex and written in a better way than most fantasy novels.
The story centers around the quasi-Mediterranean setting of Kay, especially Batiara/Italy. There, two people with their own agendas and complex backstories, Rafel and Lenia, meet the duke-mercenary Folco Cino, and each of them will find new opportunities thanks to him. They will meet khalifs, kings, and princes. They will travel by land and find themselves in extraordinary situations. And if this sounds to you like a solid, historical novel-inspired fantasy, you are right. Kay has done it many times, and this is a far cry from his “The Fionavar Tapestry” times, just as from “Tigana”, which was full of very loose inspirations.
There aren’t many authors whose references are so precise and so connected to a given place, and, honestly, I appreciate that Kay is so precise. However, he fails in one important aspect… As many contemporary historical authors. You see, when you know on what the setting is based, it’s presumed that it’s up to you to imagine landscapes, buildings, dishes, and clothes. Supposedly, we all know what a Mediterranean setting looks like. Supposedly, we know what was fashionable in the Renaissance era. Or Kay thinks we do. And I don’t even blame him, not really, not when so many authors leave so few descriptions of their settings.
Let me mention another novel. ‘The Horseman on the Roof’ is a 1951 book by Jean Giono, set in 1832 in Provence during an epidemic of cholera. Giono, a native of the region, didn’t presume that the reader should know how Provence looked back then. That’s why he included many descriptions of trees, vistas, foods, weather, buildings, and clothes. After that reading, I can tell you so much about the Alpes-de-Haute-Provence region. After reading ‘All the Seas of the World’, I can’t tell you much about Kay’s Batiara or Marsena (and that city was based on Marseille!). I’m not even frustrated. I feel sorry that I can’t. I don’t know anything about buildings, plants, or cuisine.
When I read ‘A Brightness Long Ago’, I complained that I didn’t feel the Mediterranean Kay tried so much to evoke. Now I think that I didn’t because there were too few descriptions. Sadly, I can say the same about this novel. It’s worldbuilding doesn’t lack political intricacy, convincing characters, or interesting plots. But it lacks in the daily, small minutiae. And Kay’s worlds weren’t always like that.
However, there are still many good elements there. When I wrote that ‘All the Seas of the World’ would be a good beginning for someone new to Kay’s works, I wrote it for several reasons. Firstly, Kay’s style is simply superb compared to most of the genre. It is subjective, lyrical, and subtle; it conveys more emotions than your standard ‘dynamic’ present tense narration. Seriously, teens should read it to see what a well-written fantasy novel should look like. Secondly, Kay’s narrative techniques are so purposeful that they are a good way to understand that old-fashioned elements may appear in a contemporary novel on purpose. If he uses such elements as gossip or a market-like tale, it’s purposeful. If he makes generalizations, it’s purposeful too. It isn’t transparent and detached from narration because Kay, unlike many contemporary authors, remembers that narration isn’t a neutral device that you can hide and pretend that it isn’t there. And guess what? I like it. Thirdly, his commentary is subtler compared to what you may find in an average fantasy novel. In your average fantasy story, social problems are either ignored or explained to you, like in a textbook. This isn’t the case with this book. It depicts a pre-racial world where your religion and social class are more important than your skin color. Your religion, class, and ethnicity. It also shows the specific position of women. Kay writes about female warriors or businesswomen, but he never forgets that they live in patriarchy, and he doesn’t excuse that system, either.
Overall, I’m disappointed, seeing that Kay’s settings aren’t as vivid as they used to be. On the other hand, his style is still superb, and his sense of a greater picture of things is acute. That’s why I think that he’s worthy of reading his books.