A young and willful princess sets out on a quest to seek The Heart of the World. In her travels she encounters a purple talking dog. Wit and humor overlay a bittersweet parable on coming of age, and facing the consequence of choices, and fate.
Nancy Kress is an American science fiction writer. She began writing in 1976 but has achieved her greatest notice since the publication of her Hugo and Nebula-winning 1991 novella Beggars in Spain which was later expanded into a novel with the same title. In addition to her novels, Kress has written numerous short stories and is a regular columnist for Writer's Digest. She is a regular at Clarion writing workshops and at The Writers Center in Bethesda, Maryland. During the Winter of 2008/09, Nancy Kress is the Picador Guest Professor for Literature at the University of Leipzig's Institute for American Studies in Leipzig, Germany.
The protagonist, Kirila, is a pampered young princess who decides to go on a quest, so she sets out to find The Heart of the World, without much idea of what it is or where she's going. She's almost at once befriended by Chessie, a prince cursed into the form of a purple dog, who has forgotten everything about his past life except for the sound of bells. Chessie believes that the Heart of the World can break his curse, so joins Kirila, and the rest of the novel is their quest, although it is really, truly not like any other quest novel I've ever read. Kirila begins the book as a child playing make-believe, dressing up to go quest, and this combines with a lightness of tone to give the impression of a young adult adventure novel. But as she and Chessie travel, the communities they encounter serve both as allegories for real-world institutions (academia, mystical religious sects, gurus, etc) and as milestones of Kirila's disillusionment, for both truth and the Heart of the World prove elusive. The ending is bittersweet; Kirila loses very, very much, but becomes a fully self-aware adult woman in the process.
This isn't a great review, because the book is just so strange; the pacing is purposefully very odd, (I know I'm always on about pacing, but it really makes a difference!), and the ideologies embedded in the text are very contradictory, although perhaps only on the surface. Many things which people value in the real world are discovered by Kirila to be hollow and even deadly in their falsity, but by the end of the book she comes to appreciate all the different ways in which people look for truth, valuing the journey more than the destination even when the journey kills the seekers, or exploits them horribly. There's a great bit towards the end where she argues with Chessie about art; there's no difference, she says, between a passion for jousting at tournaments, and a passion for painting the truths revealed by the inner eye. Chessie wants them to be different; he wants there to be High Culture (art) and Low Culture (sports), but Kirila insists that the dedication, passion and joy that the practicioners feel are identical both in experience and in meaning -- a very resonant message to find in an author who is setting out to write in a genre often condemned as Low Culture!
This might be a fascinating book to study in a classroom -- I think I've only barely scratched the surface of possible readings -- but I'm not sure I'll read it for pleasure again in the forseeable future.
Wow! This was so much better than I thought it would be.
It starts as a kind of weird and witty quest of a young princess and a purple dog with allegorical disturbances of said quest. And then the second part is about a middle aged woman on her quest to find herself. This second part is powerful and left me with a slight shiver after closing the book.
A princess and a purple dog go on a quest - and no, this is absolutely not a kids' book. It's a remarkable deconstructionist fantasy, somewhat along similar lines to Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn in its breaking of the fourth wall and tonal shifts. Some absolutely gorgeous writing, especially in the section with the people who worship the bird-God and in the heartbreaking conclusion.
I spent most of this book not enjoying it very much, but I'm willing to put that down to reading it in my second language - I took a break, and when I came back having much improved my French level, I found it more interesting. The Prince of Morning seems like an attempt to subvert the fantasy genre, the challenges of Kirila's quest being her own youth and hyperfocus (and some ominous falcons - I didn't really understand the Lielthens section, but I did like the concept). It's definitely an interesting idea, but it never really gripped me. There weren't really any stakes or sense of risk for the whole first third, which made it feel very slow. I also wasn't a fan of the romance, such as it was. Their relationship was never developed, and I'm still not sure if Larek enchanted Kirila to make her stay, or if she genuinely fell in love with him. Kirila and Chessie's relationship, though, was very sweet, and I liked all the times that they helped each other out of difficult places, either literally or emotionally, and how they grew together naturally over such a long time. However, it did pick up enough in the second section for me to boost it up a star. A middle-aged heroine! A very welcome formula break, and a well-executed one. The older Kirila felt so real; in fact, her character was consistent thoroughout the book, while still being affected by her experiences. I loved that the eventual conclusion was that her quest was to find herself, however cliched, and that that took her forty five years. That's what life is truly like, we don't spring into adult life as fully formed souls as many books would suggest, and Kirila was constantly struggling with her sense of self, giving the book a real grounding. One thing I particularly liked was the emotional core of the forest scene and the ending at te Tents of Omnium. The forest being the first real traditional challenge that Kirila faces, and being truly arduous, both physically pulling herself through and mentally dealing with those she had left behind, made it compelling to read. And then the tents, ouch. Ow. But you know I like dramatic death scenes, and this was a good one! I very much felt Kirila's panic and confusion and misery. And then her grief was portrayed so beautifully, all while she was questioning everything she'd done and who she even was... It was a truly moving and bittersweet conclusion.
Overall: a lot of interesting ideas, most of which didn't work for me, but those that did really did. Held up with good characters and character development, and a gripping and emotionally charged ending that I really enjoyed.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I adored this book. Beautiful writing (if perhaps overburdened with clever similes), a wonderful plot (despite the occasional heavy-handed allegory), and lovable characters so realistically drawn that they practically spring off the pages. For me, the pace and interest picked up about half-way through, as if Kress (and the characters themselves) found their meaning and direction after wandering through the necessary adventures that defined the first half of the story. The ending is satisfying and fitting.
Which is to say, it’s not a perfect book, but I loved it, filled it with highlights, and will likely go back and read it again.
This book is what I'd describe as good trash as the story is told like a child telling you a story where entire chunks of the story will suddenly swing by while you try to keep up. On the other hand, it makes the story hard to engage with, just because the narrator is too engaged to give you anything other than the plot. Not that it isn't a bit amusing to be lost after chapter one, it's just that it's a bit much all the time.
I dearly love Nancy Kress’s novels (if you haven’t read Beggars in Spain RUN and get a copy-RIGHT NOW!), and I really, really wanted to love this - but I just couldn’t finish. It seemed like she was trying too hard to be witty - at times it reminded me of The Phantom Tollbooth. But, unfortunately, I found myself not really caring about Kirila and Chessie, and had to admit I didn’t want to read any more.