What do you think?
Rate this book
Flint and Mirror
From award-winning author John Crowley comes a novel that masterfully blends history and magic in Flint and Mirror.
As ancient Irish clans fought to preserve their lands and their way of life, the Queen and her generals fought to tame the wild land and make it English.
Hugh O'Neill, lord of the North, dubbed Earl of Tyrone by the Queen, is a divided man: the Queen gives to Hugh her love, and her commandments, through a little mirror of obsidian which he can never discard; and the ancient peoples of Ireland arise from their underworld to make Hugh their champion, the token of their vow a chip of flint.
From the masterful author of Little, Big comes an exquisite fantasy of heartbreaking proportion.
As ancient Irish clans fought to preserve their lands and their way of life, the Queen and her generals fought to tame the wild land and make it English.
Hugh O'Neill, lord of the North, dubbed Earl of Tyrone by the Queen, is a divided man: the Queen gives to Hugh her love, and her commandments, through a little mirror of obsidian which he can never discard; and the ancient peoples of Ireland arise from their underworld to make Hugh their champion, the token of their vow a chip of flint.
From the masterful author of Little, Big comes an exquisite fantasy of heartbreaking proportion.
247 pages, Hardcover
First published April 19, 2022
104 people are currently reading
848 people want to read
About the author
John Crowley
128 books828 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
John Crowley was born in Presque Isle, Maine, in 1942; his father was then an officer in the US Army Air Corps. He grew up in Vermont, northeastern Kentucky and (for the longest stretch) Indiana, where he went to high school and college. He moved to New York City after college to make movies, and did find work in documentary films, an occupation he still pursues. He published his first novel (The Deep) in 1975, and his 15th volume of fiction (Endless Things) in 2007. Since 1993 he has taught creative writing at Yale University. In 1992 he received the Award in Literature from the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters.
His first published novels were science fiction: The Deep (1975) and Beasts (1976). Engine Summer (1979) was nominated for the 1980 American Book Award; it appears in David Pringle’s 100 Best Science Fiction Novels.
In 1981 came Little, Big, which Ursula Le Guin described as a book that “all by itself calls for a redefinition of fantasy.”
In 1980 Crowley embarked on an ambitious four-volume novel, Ægypt, comprising The Solitudes (originally published as Ægypt), Love & Sleep, Dæmonomania, and Endless Things, published in May 2007. This series and Little, Big were cited when Crowley received the prestigious American Academy of Arts and Letters Award for Literature.
He is also the recipient of an Ingram Merrill Foundation grant. His recent novels are The Translator, recipient of the Premio Flaianno (Italy), and Lord Byron’s Novel: The Evening Land, which contains an entire imaginary novel by the poet. A novella, The Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines, appeared in 2002. A museum-quality 25th anniversary edition of Little, Big, featuring the art of Peter Milton and a critical introduction by Harold Bloom, is in preparation.
Note: The John Crowley who wrote Sans épines, la rose: Tony Blair, un modèle pour l'Europe? is a different author with the same name. (website)
John Crowley was born in Presque Isle, Maine, in 1942; his father was then an officer in the US Army Air Corps. He grew up in Vermont, northeastern Kentucky and (for the longest stretch) Indiana, where he went to high school and college. He moved to New York City after college to make movies, and did find work in documentary films, an occupation he still pursues. He published his first novel (The Deep) in 1975, and his 15th volume of fiction (Endless Things) in 2007. Since 1993 he has taught creative writing at Yale University. In 1992 he received the Award in Literature from the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters.
His first published novels were science fiction: The Deep (1975) and Beasts (1976). Engine Summer (1979) was nominated for the 1980 American Book Award; it appears in David Pringle’s 100 Best Science Fiction Novels.
In 1981 came Little, Big, which Ursula Le Guin described as a book that “all by itself calls for a redefinition of fantasy.”
In 1980 Crowley embarked on an ambitious four-volume novel, Ægypt, comprising The Solitudes (originally published as Ægypt), Love & Sleep, Dæmonomania, and Endless Things, published in May 2007. This series and Little, Big were cited when Crowley received the prestigious American Academy of Arts and Letters Award for Literature.
He is also the recipient of an Ingram Merrill Foundation grant. His recent novels are The Translator, recipient of the Premio Flaianno (Italy), and Lord Byron’s Novel: The Evening Land, which contains an entire imaginary novel by the poet. A novella, The Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines, appeared in 2002. A museum-quality 25th anniversary edition of Little, Big, featuring the art of Peter Milton and a critical introduction by Harold Bloom, is in preparation.
Note: The John Crowley who wrote Sans épines, la rose: Tony Blair, un modèle pour l'Europe? is a different author with the same name. (website)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 83 reviews
October 30, 2022
Overall Rating
3.5
John Crowley
I’m a long time reader of fantasy author John Crowley. I’ve read a few of his books, and liked some more than others ( Aegypt being a favorite). Crowley has a fine command of language, and can be a pleasure to read. But, even at his best, he’s a confounding and problematic writer. He can be obscure and baffling. His characters are often inscrutable.
Some of those frustrating qualities were evident in this book. It’s a fine work in some ways, but it falls short in others.
A Mix of History and Magic
This is a fantasy novel based on history.
I found the history more interesting and compelling than the magical aspects of the book.
It’s the story of Hugh O’Neill, an Irish Lord of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.
The historical aspect of the novel is meticulously researched and richly rendered. It’s a fascinating time period, and I seem to be reading many books about a similar time in European history lately.
We get a very good picture of the conflict between the Irish and the English at the time. The English were intent on dominating Ireland. The Irish, of course, hated this idea.
Hugh was caught in the middle, as he was taken to England to be educated when he was a boy.
He has mixed loyalties, although he generally sides with the Irish.
Flint and Mirror
The flint and mirror of the title are significant.
The flint ties O’Neill to the Sidhe (elves or fairies).
The mirror is the infamous obsidian disc created by famous alchemist and occultist John Dee.
Dee uses the mirror to link Hugh to British Queen Elizabeth I (which partially explains O’Neill’s ambiguity about dealing with the English).
Dee says he’ll use the mirror to control Hugh. I could have sworn I read a similar story about Dee in some other book, although I cannot remember where. (I couldn’t find the reference in either books by Magnus Flyte or Deborah Harkness, although both authors also use John Dee as a character). But there are many tales about John Dee’s so-called “black spirit mirror” or “scrying glass”, which currently resides in the British Museum.
The Issues I Had with this Book
Although I found this interesting and well written, I had a few issues with the book that kept me from giving it a higher rating.
First, Hugh O’Neill is opaque and unknowable. We are told that he is divided in his loyalties (“Pale Man and Dark Man”). But we never really get to understand who he is and what makes him tick. Hugh himself admits that he himself often doesn’t know who he is (because of his divided nature). But although the story was compelling, it was tough to fully invest in a main character who’s this inscrutable.
Second, the magical aspects of the book, although they seem ominous at first, are ultimately a disappointing washout.
Audio Narration
The audio narrator, British actor Samuel Roukin, made some errors in reading (I’m sorry to say that audio narrators making errors in reading is starting to seem like the norm).
Worse, his tone in reading this was often dreary and depressing.
However, Roukin was an marked improvement over Crowley reading his own work (which Crowley did on several audiobooks).
3.5
John Crowley
I’m a long time reader of fantasy author John Crowley. I’ve read a few of his books, and liked some more than others ( Aegypt being a favorite). Crowley has a fine command of language, and can be a pleasure to read. But, even at his best, he’s a confounding and problematic writer. He can be obscure and baffling. His characters are often inscrutable.
Some of those frustrating qualities were evident in this book. It’s a fine work in some ways, but it falls short in others.
A Mix of History and Magic
This is a fantasy novel based on history.
I found the history more interesting and compelling than the magical aspects of the book.
It’s the story of Hugh O’Neill, an Irish Lord of the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries.
The historical aspect of the novel is meticulously researched and richly rendered. It’s a fascinating time period, and I seem to be reading many books about a similar time in European history lately.
We get a very good picture of the conflict between the Irish and the English at the time. The English were intent on dominating Ireland. The Irish, of course, hated this idea.
Hugh was caught in the middle, as he was taken to England to be educated when he was a boy.
He has mixed loyalties, although he generally sides with the Irish.
Flint and Mirror
The flint and mirror of the title are significant.
The flint ties O’Neill to the Sidhe (elves or fairies).
The mirror is the infamous obsidian disc created by famous alchemist and occultist John Dee.
Dee uses the mirror to link Hugh to British Queen Elizabeth I (which partially explains O’Neill’s ambiguity about dealing with the English).
Dee says he’ll use the mirror to control Hugh. I could have sworn I read a similar story about Dee in some other book, although I cannot remember where. (I couldn’t find the reference in either books by Magnus Flyte or Deborah Harkness, although both authors also use John Dee as a character). But there are many tales about John Dee’s so-called “black spirit mirror” or “scrying glass”, which currently resides in the British Museum.
The Issues I Had with this Book
Although I found this interesting and well written, I had a few issues with the book that kept me from giving it a higher rating.
First, Hugh O’Neill is opaque and unknowable. We are told that he is divided in his loyalties (“Pale Man and Dark Man”). But we never really get to understand who he is and what makes him tick. Hugh himself admits that he himself often doesn’t know who he is (because of his divided nature). But although the story was compelling, it was tough to fully invest in a main character who’s this inscrutable.
Second, the magical aspects of the book, although they seem ominous at first, are ultimately a disappointing washout.
Audio Narration
The audio narrator, British actor Samuel Roukin, made some errors in reading (I’m sorry to say that audio narrators making errors in reading is starting to seem like the norm).
Worse, his tone in reading this was often dreary and depressing.
However, Roukin was an marked improvement over Crowley reading his own work (which Crowley did on several audiobooks).
May 12, 2022
True fantasy is hopeless. As the hero nears faery, faery recedes. Magic is always a double-edged sword, and the price of using it is often to give it up. No one knows these tragic lineaments better than John Crowley, who has spent the greater part of his career on the border of faery, always showing us glimpses, never surrendering the key.
So it is with Flint and Stone, Crowley’s latest, a palimpsest of ancient magic on historical fact. It’s familiar territory for Crowley, Elizabethan England, the England of Elizabeth’s magician, John Dee, the age of magic diminishing and disappearing. But this tale is set mainly in Ireland, where they’ve always been closest to faery, and always closest to tragedy, and never more so than in the tale of Hugh, the earl of Tyrone, torn between his Irish heritage and English upbringing, and Red Hugh of Donegal, the prince who could unite the warring Irish under him—but never has the chance.
And here’s the fact of tragedy—we always know the outcome from the very beginning. We know (everyone knows this truth of Ireland—it has never been united to this day) that it ends in disappointment and death. This is what lifts the story of the earl of Tyrone, as indecisive as Hamlet, to catharsis. England loses as surely as Ireland does. England loses Elizabeth, and Ireland loses the magic that inhabits the hollow hills.
This is a special tale—in its simplicity, in its solidity, and in its intangibility. If you’ve never read any John Crowley, this is a good place to start. Highly recommended.
So it is with Flint and Stone, Crowley’s latest, a palimpsest of ancient magic on historical fact. It’s familiar territory for Crowley, Elizabethan England, the England of Elizabeth’s magician, John Dee, the age of magic diminishing and disappearing. But this tale is set mainly in Ireland, where they’ve always been closest to faery, and always closest to tragedy, and never more so than in the tale of Hugh, the earl of Tyrone, torn between his Irish heritage and English upbringing, and Red Hugh of Donegal, the prince who could unite the warring Irish under him—but never has the chance.
And here’s the fact of tragedy—we always know the outcome from the very beginning. We know (everyone knows this truth of Ireland—it has never been united to this day) that it ends in disappointment and death. This is what lifts the story of the earl of Tyrone, as indecisive as Hamlet, to catharsis. England loses as surely as Ireland does. England loses Elizabeth, and Ireland loses the magic that inhabits the hollow hills.
This is a special tale—in its simplicity, in its solidity, and in its intangibility. If you’ve never read any John Crowley, this is a good place to start. Highly recommended.
October 13, 2022
It was okay! I expected it to be a little more unique. I liked the opening the best, about a young Irish boy who's sent to English court and receives some minor magic. The rest about failed revolutions and colonial experience was good enough, but I lost interest here and there. There was also some great parts in the middle about silkies, though they were their own standalone thing.
May 8, 2022
3.5 Stars
I read this book on the perfect rainy weekend that fit the cozy atmosphere of this novel perfectly.
This is a historical novel with a just a light touch of fantasy. The magical elements are much lighter than the historical ones so I think this book will work best for readers who read historical fiction on a regular basis. I was not overly familiar with this point of history, but found the story reasonably interesting.
For me, I was most fascinated by the Ireland setting, a place in the world I have always had a draw. The story itself was reasonably interesting, but a little dense with the inclusion of so many historical details. The prose however was quite strong.
I liked this one despite it being a bit out of the wheelhouse of my reading house. I would recommend this one to historical fiction readers open to a small touch of fantasy who will likely enjoy this novel.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher.
I read this book on the perfect rainy weekend that fit the cozy atmosphere of this novel perfectly.
This is a historical novel with a just a light touch of fantasy. The magical elements are much lighter than the historical ones so I think this book will work best for readers who read historical fiction on a regular basis. I was not overly familiar with this point of history, but found the story reasonably interesting.
For me, I was most fascinated by the Ireland setting, a place in the world I have always had a draw. The story itself was reasonably interesting, but a little dense with the inclusion of so many historical details. The prose however was quite strong.
I liked this one despite it being a bit out of the wheelhouse of my reading house. I would recommend this one to historical fiction readers open to a small touch of fantasy who will likely enjoy this novel.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher.
April 4, 2022
This is the latest novel from acclaimed author, John Crowley, whom I believe is one of the absolute finest writers that has ever been a part of the SFF genres. I was generously given an ARC copy by Tor/MacMillan books ahead of its April 19th release.
Flint and Mirror is, as the cover suggests, a mix of history and magic— taking the form of an alternate history novel that has understated fantasy elements. The setting is 16th century England and Ireland, as the Tudor Conquest rages on. Territory is claimed, wars are fought, men are lost and heritage is compromised. However, these wars have unlikely participants that are obscured by mankind’s reluctance to acknowledge the supernatural.
As with all of Crowley’s books that I’ve read thus far, the prose is immaculate. I don’t think there are many writers in SFF that are on his level as a stylist, and I have no problem including him among the upper echelon of wordsmiths like Wolfe, Le Guin, Lafferty and Harrison. For those interested in history, Crowley’s research of the setting, time period, people and politics is incredibly well done, and those interested in more subdued, subtle fantasy will enjoy this immensely. Fans of Crowley will, of course, not be disappointed.
Flint and Mirror is, as the cover suggests, a mix of history and magic— taking the form of an alternate history novel that has understated fantasy elements. The setting is 16th century England and Ireland, as the Tudor Conquest rages on. Territory is claimed, wars are fought, men are lost and heritage is compromised. However, these wars have unlikely participants that are obscured by mankind’s reluctance to acknowledge the supernatural.
As with all of Crowley’s books that I’ve read thus far, the prose is immaculate. I don’t think there are many writers in SFF that are on his level as a stylist, and I have no problem including him among the upper echelon of wordsmiths like Wolfe, Le Guin, Lafferty and Harrison. For those interested in history, Crowley’s research of the setting, time period, people and politics is incredibly well done, and those interested in more subdued, subtle fantasy will enjoy this immensely. Fans of Crowley will, of course, not be disappointed.
June 4, 2025
3.5 stars
I haven’t read any Crowley in a while. He’s an author I respect, but with whom I’ve had an up-and-down relationship. Certainly, it’s been very long since I’ve read anything new by him since I mostly go back to my favourite earlier books of his. _Flint and Mirror_, a mixture of historical fiction and fantasy (and thus right up my alley), seemed like a no-brainer to dip my toes back into Crowley’s literary oeuvre and see what I thought…especially since I’m planning to return to the book that nearly broke my desire to read Crowley at all (ironically the one that is arguably his most beloved work), _Little, Big_.
_Flint and Mirror_ is ostensibly the story of Hugh O’Neill, THE O’Neill, and Earl of Tyrone who, from when he was a boy, was little more than a pawn in the game of chess played by the native Irish lords on one side and Queen Elizabeth and her conquering English on the other. O’Neill is a man divided. Sent as a hostage to be fostered in England when he was young, he ultimately finds himself growing into a man of two worlds. Torn between the call of his ancestors and that of the new conquerors of his country, Hugh continually vacillates in his attempt to navigate the muddy political waters into which he has been thrown. Crowley characterizes this conflict with the titular flint and mirror, each a mystical talisman that respectively holds a part of his soul: one piece leaning this way and the other that.
For such a slim volume Crowley manages to pack in quite a bit, for Hugh O’Neill is only one part of the story he has to tell. This is also the tale of Hugh’s wives Siobhan O’Donnell and Mabel Bagenal, each finding their love for him ultimately tragic; of his compatriots in rebellion the laughing Red Hugh O’Donnell and taciturn Dark Hugh Maguire (known as Fox and Dog colloquially). It is the story of Ineen Fitzgerald who hungers for more than her life seems able to provide and her otherworldly lover Sorley whose bargains may take more than they give; of Cormac the hapless and lovelorn bastard of the Burke clan and the pirate queen Grainne O’Malley whose eye seems always to look to the main chance. Of course, it is also the story of Queen Elizabeth (forever an inscrutable and shadowy presence behind all that happens in the tale) and her seer & spy Doctor John Dee who labours to bring all under her sway via his arcane arts. Most of all, though, it is the story of Ireland and England and their uneasy commingling in the sixteenth century. Crowley’s longstanding interest in the occult is central to this conflict and it is not only the two countries of our world that are at odds, but also the mundane world of sea and sky and the otherworld that lies beneath, behind, or beyond it. They are worlds that may mingle, but never truly come together. Those whom the otherworld touches (and they are many in this tale) are invariably changed, and rarely for the better.
As with nearly all that Crowley has done this is well-written, even poetic in its expression. That said the strong third person omniscient form of the narrative was for some reason very noticeable to me. That may sound a bit strange, but I think what I mean is that there was a palpable distance between the reader and the characters in the novel…a distance much more obvious than I usually find to be the case. This was likely a purposeful decision by Crowley, for it certainly contributed to the sense of Hugh’s seeming powerlessness in the face of the fates that each fought to control him. For much of the story Hugh seems to lack real agency, drifting between the forces (and people) that compel him. In the end, though, Hugh, like all the characters in the story, must make a choice and it is one that will either make or break him. A good tale, poetic and tragic that tells primarily of the endings of things.
I haven’t read any Crowley in a while. He’s an author I respect, but with whom I’ve had an up-and-down relationship. Certainly, it’s been very long since I’ve read anything new by him since I mostly go back to my favourite earlier books of his. _Flint and Mirror_, a mixture of historical fiction and fantasy (and thus right up my alley), seemed like a no-brainer to dip my toes back into Crowley’s literary oeuvre and see what I thought…especially since I’m planning to return to the book that nearly broke my desire to read Crowley at all (ironically the one that is arguably his most beloved work), _Little, Big_.
_Flint and Mirror_ is ostensibly the story of Hugh O’Neill, THE O’Neill, and Earl of Tyrone who, from when he was a boy, was little more than a pawn in the game of chess played by the native Irish lords on one side and Queen Elizabeth and her conquering English on the other. O’Neill is a man divided. Sent as a hostage to be fostered in England when he was young, he ultimately finds himself growing into a man of two worlds. Torn between the call of his ancestors and that of the new conquerors of his country, Hugh continually vacillates in his attempt to navigate the muddy political waters into which he has been thrown. Crowley characterizes this conflict with the titular flint and mirror, each a mystical talisman that respectively holds a part of his soul: one piece leaning this way and the other that.
For such a slim volume Crowley manages to pack in quite a bit, for Hugh O’Neill is only one part of the story he has to tell. This is also the tale of Hugh’s wives Siobhan O’Donnell and Mabel Bagenal, each finding their love for him ultimately tragic; of his compatriots in rebellion the laughing Red Hugh O’Donnell and taciturn Dark Hugh Maguire (known as Fox and Dog colloquially). It is the story of Ineen Fitzgerald who hungers for more than her life seems able to provide and her otherworldly lover Sorley whose bargains may take more than they give; of Cormac the hapless and lovelorn bastard of the Burke clan and the pirate queen Grainne O’Malley whose eye seems always to look to the main chance. Of course, it is also the story of Queen Elizabeth (forever an inscrutable and shadowy presence behind all that happens in the tale) and her seer & spy Doctor John Dee who labours to bring all under her sway via his arcane arts. Most of all, though, it is the story of Ireland and England and their uneasy commingling in the sixteenth century. Crowley’s longstanding interest in the occult is central to this conflict and it is not only the two countries of our world that are at odds, but also the mundane world of sea and sky and the otherworld that lies beneath, behind, or beyond it. They are worlds that may mingle, but never truly come together. Those whom the otherworld touches (and they are many in this tale) are invariably changed, and rarely for the better.
As with nearly all that Crowley has done this is well-written, even poetic in its expression. That said the strong third person omniscient form of the narrative was for some reason very noticeable to me. That may sound a bit strange, but I think what I mean is that there was a palpable distance between the reader and the characters in the novel…a distance much more obvious than I usually find to be the case. This was likely a purposeful decision by Crowley, for it certainly contributed to the sense of Hugh’s seeming powerlessness in the face of the fates that each fought to control him. For much of the story Hugh seems to lack real agency, drifting between the forces (and people) that compel him. In the end, though, Hugh, like all the characters in the story, must make a choice and it is one that will either make or break him. A good tale, poetic and tragic that tells primarily of the endings of things.
Read
December 23, 2021Despite his Aegypt quartet being an absolute favourite of mine, I've not read an enormous amount of John Crowley's other novels – and until now, all of those were from before rather than after that grand achievement. I think perhaps the way he finished that sequence wrapped around a sense that he'd moved into non-fantastical material and gave me a sense that he'd made the dread passage to respectability? But Gardner Dozois' last anthology featured a wonderful Crowley story that I took at the time for an Aegypt out-take, yet realised, as soon as I saw this book on Netgalley, must in fact (or in addition?) be a fragment from here. And indeed, one of Aegypt's key players, Elizabethan occultist John Dee, has a guiding role here too. As do others of his era – Philip Sidney (though his father looms larger) among them, not to mention Elizabeth herself. But what could very easily have been a simple historical novel also finds a little space for the little folk, even if they are not here quite as Crowley depicted them in what many incorrect people consider his masterpiece, Little, Big – and nor is this Dee quite the Dee of Aegypt. Or maybe they are, and he is, and it's simply that none of them look quite the same to this book's protagonist, Hugh O'Neill, who goes from child in Ireland to old man in Rome by way of a heyday in which he is simultaneously a noble in two clashing cultures, the O'Neill to the Irish and Earl of Tyrone to the English. For this is a story of colonialism, the two items of its title being magical artefacts which reify the double-consciousness of someone from a colonised people who is also, in part and at times, a piece of the apparatus of colonisation. O'Neill is a real historical figure too, though not one I really know (which said, I'm not sure I knew Dee before I read Aegypt far too young), and if I have a certain reflex suspicion of books by Americans in which the brave, mystical Irish resist chilly, perfidious English invaders, Crowley complicates the situation enough that you'd be hard pressed to take this altogether for propaganda. And, let's face it, even if it were, he still weaves enough of a spell with his prose that I'd probably have gone along for the ride anyway, even if it would have ended in a rude awakening on the cold hill's side. Which, as with Aegypt, is a key theme here; finding a place for magic in history, making it the most plausible explanation for some of the odder details, only to snatch it away at the last. Which makes for a powerfully elegiac effect, but always leaves me wondering - what might Crowley have wrought if he could only commit more wholeheartedly to enchantment?
April 30, 2022
The overall history is the one of the Tudor settlement and conflict in Ireland in the 16th century, and the resistance of the Irish chiefs, in particular Hugh O'Neill, the Earl of Tyrone. He received that title from Queen Elizabeth and played both sides against the middle for a long time, until he was declared traitor in England and was pursued by the English Lord Deputy in Ireland.
But because it's Crowley, there's magic and mysticism in it. Crowley surrounds his Irish with the fey, the Sidhe in the Irish language. It's a subtle touch but present.
As usual with Crowley the characters are compelling and attractive. However, the preponderance of characters reduced the impact of each one except for the major ones. Because he's dealing with real history, Crowley includes a lot of people who occupy very little space in the book. Each has a role, but we see many of them as walk-ons, more so than in most Crowley books.
But because it's Crowley, there's magic and mysticism in it. Crowley surrounds his Irish with the fey, the Sidhe in the Irish language. It's a subtle touch but present.
As usual with Crowley the characters are compelling and attractive. However, the preponderance of characters reduced the impact of each one except for the major ones. Because he's dealing with real history, Crowley includes a lot of people who occupy very little space in the book. Each has a role, but we see many of them as walk-ons, more so than in most Crowley books.
August 12, 2022
Thank you to Netgalley and Tor publishing for providing an ARC copy of this novel.
I’m DNFing this at 32% of the way in. I hate to do it, I really do, but I am bored to tears reading this book. Flint and Mirror is written the way a particularly dry text-book is written. Everything is described matter-of-factly — there is little to no imagination used in the language. Now this might be because a great deal of actual history is used in this novel, but that doesn’t excuse the book being drier than the Sahara.
Flint and Mirror takes place back around the mid-1500’s during Queen Elizabeth’s reign. The Irish clans are fighting to keep their land, while Elizabeth and England are fighting to take Ireland for their own. Very little magic is weaved throughout that I saw during 32% of the book, but it is there.
There are little interspersed scenes of actual conversations between characters, but these are few and far between. The bulk of the book as far as I read, is just told to you. Very little showing or experiencing the actions at hand, just told as flatly as possible. Each paragraph is enormous, and sentences drag on and on before they get to the point. It’s possible that’s just how John Crowley’s work is, but whatever the reason, I did not enjoy how Flint and Mirror was written.
There are battles in this book! Mentions of fae-like creatures. Murder! Plots and schemes. By all accounts, this book should have been action-packed; it should have been a page turner. Despite all of that, all I wanted to do was put it down, so here I am, putting it down.
Flint and Mirror comes out April 19, 2022.
For more of my reviews, check out my blog.
I’m DNFing this at 32% of the way in. I hate to do it, I really do, but I am bored to tears reading this book. Flint and Mirror is written the way a particularly dry text-book is written. Everything is described matter-of-factly — there is little to no imagination used in the language. Now this might be because a great deal of actual history is used in this novel, but that doesn’t excuse the book being drier than the Sahara.
Flint and Mirror takes place back around the mid-1500’s during Queen Elizabeth’s reign. The Irish clans are fighting to keep their land, while Elizabeth and England are fighting to take Ireland for their own. Very little magic is weaved throughout that I saw during 32% of the book, but it is there.
There are little interspersed scenes of actual conversations between characters, but these are few and far between. The bulk of the book as far as I read, is just told to you. Very little showing or experiencing the actions at hand, just told as flatly as possible. Each paragraph is enormous, and sentences drag on and on before they get to the point. It’s possible that’s just how John Crowley’s work is, but whatever the reason, I did not enjoy how Flint and Mirror was written.
There are battles in this book! Mentions of fae-like creatures. Murder! Plots and schemes. By all accounts, this book should have been action-packed; it should have been a page turner. Despite all of that, all I wanted to do was put it down, so here I am, putting it down.
Flint and Mirror comes out April 19, 2022.
For more of my reviews, check out my blog.
October 16, 2025
A quiet rebellion. A tale of two magics. A historical fantasy that refuses to choose sides.
John Crowley’s Flint & Mirror is a novel of restraint and resonance. It doesn’t dazzle; it hums. Set during the late 16th century and the tumultuous life of Ireland's Hugh O’Neill, Earl of Tyrone, the book offers a subtle blend of historical fidelity and speculative suggestion. His rebellion against Elizabethan rule, uneasy alliance with Spain, and final exile in Italy; all are rendered with a historian’s care. But Crowley, ever the alchemist, adds two artifacts: a flint from the ancient Irish powers and a mirror from John Dee, England’s magus. These are not weapons. They are burdens.
O’Neill is a man caught between worlds; Irish chieftain and English noble, rebel and courtier, Catholic and pragmatist. The flint and mirror reflect this split. The flint promises aid from the long-dead Irish warriors, the mirror comes with whispers of Elizabeth’s gaze and guidance. But neither delivers. Crowley’s magic is ambient, not active. The fair folk do not ride to war. The mirror does not reveal secrets. Instead, these objects become metaphors for O’Neill’s fractured identity. He is a man who might have been a legend, but history had other plans.
Crowley’s prose is as elegant as ever; measured, melancholic, and precise. The novel opens with O’Neill in Rome, old and wrapped in rugs, sword nearby, memory sharper than steel. From there, we move backward through his youth, his rise, his rebellion. The pacing is deliberate, sometimes languid, but always purposeful. The novel is strongest when O'Neill is in motion; negotiating with Elizabeth’s court or rallying Irish clans.
Historically, Flint & Mirror is remarkably accurate. Crowley does not distort O’Neill’s life for the sake of fantasy. The Nine Years’ War, the Battle of Kinsale, the Flight of the Earls; all are rendered with quiet authority. The speculative elements are atmospheric, not instrumental. They deepen the tragedy rather than distract from it. In this way, the novel resembles Crowley's Engine Summer: a story told after the fact, a life remembered through a lens that blurs rather than sharpens.
Ultimately, Flint & Mirror is not a tale of magic, but of its absence. It’s a novel for those who believe that history itself is a kind of enchantment; one that binds, betrays, and leaves us wondering what might have been.
John Crowley’s Flint & Mirror is a novel of restraint and resonance. It doesn’t dazzle; it hums. Set during the late 16th century and the tumultuous life of Ireland's Hugh O’Neill, Earl of Tyrone, the book offers a subtle blend of historical fidelity and speculative suggestion. His rebellion against Elizabethan rule, uneasy alliance with Spain, and final exile in Italy; all are rendered with a historian’s care. But Crowley, ever the alchemist, adds two artifacts: a flint from the ancient Irish powers and a mirror from John Dee, England’s magus. These are not weapons. They are burdens.
O’Neill is a man caught between worlds; Irish chieftain and English noble, rebel and courtier, Catholic and pragmatist. The flint and mirror reflect this split. The flint promises aid from the long-dead Irish warriors, the mirror comes with whispers of Elizabeth’s gaze and guidance. But neither delivers. Crowley’s magic is ambient, not active. The fair folk do not ride to war. The mirror does not reveal secrets. Instead, these objects become metaphors for O’Neill’s fractured identity. He is a man who might have been a legend, but history had other plans.
Crowley’s prose is as elegant as ever; measured, melancholic, and precise. The novel opens with O’Neill in Rome, old and wrapped in rugs, sword nearby, memory sharper than steel. From there, we move backward through his youth, his rise, his rebellion. The pacing is deliberate, sometimes languid, but always purposeful. The novel is strongest when O'Neill is in motion; negotiating with Elizabeth’s court or rallying Irish clans.
Historically, Flint & Mirror is remarkably accurate. Crowley does not distort O’Neill’s life for the sake of fantasy. The Nine Years’ War, the Battle of Kinsale, the Flight of the Earls; all are rendered with quiet authority. The speculative elements are atmospheric, not instrumental. They deepen the tragedy rather than distract from it. In this way, the novel resembles Crowley's Engine Summer: a story told after the fact, a life remembered through a lens that blurs rather than sharpens.
Ultimately, Flint & Mirror is not a tale of magic, but of its absence. It’s a novel for those who believe that history itself is a kind of enchantment; one that binds, betrays, and leaves us wondering what might have been.
February 25, 2022
My thanks to both NetGalley and the publisher Macmillian Tor/ Forge for an advanced copy of this historical fantasy novel.
To understand the Irish is to understand that what they say might not be what they truly mean. Many of the pithiest comments can be blessings and a curse, sometimes at the same time. Ireland has long been of two minds on many things, north and south, religion, those that want to rule, and those content to rule under another. And magic. John Crowley in Flint and Mirror uses real characters, real events and some of the Sidhe, the fairy folk, in a novel based on history and fact and magic in a divided Emerald Isle.
Hugh O'Neill son of Matthew O'Neill is a pawn to both the Irish and the English who wish to control Ireland. Considered the Earl of Tyrone, London plans to use Hugh to control the nobles and by proxy control Ireland. As a sign of their trust, and control, Queen Elizabeth I advisor John Dee gives young Hugh a mirror of dark obsidian. To the Irish and more importantly the Sidhe, Hugh is The O'Neill, the Chief of the Tír Eoghain, and is given a piece of flint one night in the company of a blind poet as a sign of their bond and alliance. Many battles are fought, plots, counterplots and murders abound in a battle of control for the island.
An interesting book based on real historical figures and events, with a nice touch of the supernatural mixed in. The writing style is what I can only call remote, which I enjoyed, but I understand if other readers do not. Hugh seems almost to know what is going to happen, good, bad, or indifferent in advance. Mr. Crowley is a skilled writer, and never losses the narrative, even though a tremendous amount of things happen in this short novel. There are battles, lots, murders, lots of plotting, but again the writing makes it seem more history than fiction, events happen, and we move on. Hugh as a character is upfront most of the time, yet remains mysterious and acts like he knows where the play might take him. The supporting cast is well developed but go by quickly as the focus stays on Hugh.
Being Irish, and yet not knowing much about Hugh O'Neill, the Earl of Tyrone, I found a lot to enjoy and to learn about the era and the machinations involved. I have liked many of John Crowley's earlier works especially the Aegypt series, and Little, Big was also quite good. This is a different kind of historical fiction, one with a bit more fantasy, but still quite good. Recommended for fans of Morgan Llywelyn especially her early works,and Kenneth Flint and Gregory Frost.
To understand the Irish is to understand that what they say might not be what they truly mean. Many of the pithiest comments can be blessings and a curse, sometimes at the same time. Ireland has long been of two minds on many things, north and south, religion, those that want to rule, and those content to rule under another. And magic. John Crowley in Flint and Mirror uses real characters, real events and some of the Sidhe, the fairy folk, in a novel based on history and fact and magic in a divided Emerald Isle.
Hugh O'Neill son of Matthew O'Neill is a pawn to both the Irish and the English who wish to control Ireland. Considered the Earl of Tyrone, London plans to use Hugh to control the nobles and by proxy control Ireland. As a sign of their trust, and control, Queen Elizabeth I advisor John Dee gives young Hugh a mirror of dark obsidian. To the Irish and more importantly the Sidhe, Hugh is The O'Neill, the Chief of the Tír Eoghain, and is given a piece of flint one night in the company of a blind poet as a sign of their bond and alliance. Many battles are fought, plots, counterplots and murders abound in a battle of control for the island.
An interesting book based on real historical figures and events, with a nice touch of the supernatural mixed in. The writing style is what I can only call remote, which I enjoyed, but I understand if other readers do not. Hugh seems almost to know what is going to happen, good, bad, or indifferent in advance. Mr. Crowley is a skilled writer, and never losses the narrative, even though a tremendous amount of things happen in this short novel. There are battles, lots, murders, lots of plotting, but again the writing makes it seem more history than fiction, events happen, and we move on. Hugh as a character is upfront most of the time, yet remains mysterious and acts like he knows where the play might take him. The supporting cast is well developed but go by quickly as the focus stays on Hugh.
Being Irish, and yet not knowing much about Hugh O'Neill, the Earl of Tyrone, I found a lot to enjoy and to learn about the era and the machinations involved. I have liked many of John Crowley's earlier works especially the Aegypt series, and Little, Big was also quite good. This is a different kind of historical fiction, one with a bit more fantasy, but still quite good. Recommended for fans of Morgan Llywelyn especially her early works,and Kenneth Flint and Gregory Frost.
May 10, 2022
I loved the language Crowley uses. His descriptions of magic make impossible things plausible somehow. He did seem have a difficult time finding the end of the story, but perhaps that’s part of the charm.
July 25, 2022
I actually didn't finish the book. I reached about the half way point before giving up. I just could not gain traction in it. The characters are dull. The history is also dull. And the plot?- You guessed it. Dull.
did-not-finish
May 14, 2022I tried really hard not to DNF this novel, and pushed through past where my spidey senses were starting to tell me that this probably wasn't a book for me. In theory, it should have been: I was obsessed with Tudor England as a kid, and I've always retained a soft spot for that era of history, which is the focus point of Flint and Mirror. But, alas.
Crowley offers a faithful retelling of the conflict between England, Ireland and Spain in the 1500s, with a few magical elements added in (the titular flint and mirror, as well as the occasional sighting of the Irish sidhe). But for all a book set in a tumultuous period of history should have been exciting - especially with the addition of magic - there's a rather academic feel to the text that makes it rather dull. Characters recite names of other characters, recount battles secondhand, and occasionally ride or sail from one place to another. The reader is essentially given an account of events; there's no sense of interiority or character growth, no emotional hook that gripped me and pulled me into the story.
I do think this book would work better for others who don't necessarily need that same hook and like or prefer more omniscient storytelling, but it's very much not my style.
Crowley offers a faithful retelling of the conflict between England, Ireland and Spain in the 1500s, with a few magical elements added in (the titular flint and mirror, as well as the occasional sighting of the Irish sidhe). But for all a book set in a tumultuous period of history should have been exciting - especially with the addition of magic - there's a rather academic feel to the text that makes it rather dull. Characters recite names of other characters, recount battles secondhand, and occasionally ride or sail from one place to another. The reader is essentially given an account of events; there's no sense of interiority or character growth, no emotional hook that gripped me and pulled me into the story.
I do think this book would work better for others who don't necessarily need that same hook and like or prefer more omniscient storytelling, but it's very much not my style.
January 31, 2025
In a truly bizarre coincidence, I was reading Flint and Mirror—historical fantasy tied to the Tyrone Rebellion (or Nine Years War) in the late 16th and early 17th century— in analog book form while reading a historical account of the Jacobite uprising in Scotland in the mid-18th century, The Road to Culloden Moor: Bonnie Prince Charlie and the ’45 Rebellion. It’s an interesting coincidence because my ancestry is Scot (lowlands, though—not Highlands) and Ulster Irish. Flint and Mirror is that Ulster Irish rebellion with magical trappings and the other was about the Highland uprising that ended in a massacre. The English oppressors are the “villains” in both the fiction (though imaginatively well-blended with history) and history.
Flint and Mirror is told from the perspective of the protagonist’s life as he unburdens himself to his confessor after a long life and a humiliating defeat. Much of Flint and Mirror consists of the balance between a Celtic artifact which ties the O’Neill (aka Earl of Tyrone) to his Celtic ancestors and an obsidian mirror, ensorcelled by the infamous John Dee, which ties him to the awareness of Elizabeth I. At one point, protagonist O’Neill is said to have been at the center of a balance beam in trying to balance the two sides (p. 150, but possibly an unfortunate anachronism since the first reference of which I am aware was in the early 19th century—perhaps, late 18th century). A better simile suggested he was, “like an actor in a theater playing two parts, changing clothes and beard and voice all in a moment and then back again.” (p. 152) This is, after all, the time of Elizabeth.
That the O’Neill’s situation was a tough one is demonstrated by the number of duplicitous acts done against him and, in his defense. When he deals with some traitors, his second wife responds to him like Michael Corleon’s wife in The Godfather, and she gets pretty much the same response. “You are not to ask such things, you have no right to be told them. You are now and henceforth to ask me nothing of my actions and my judgements. It is for your own peace and comfort that I say that.” (p. 164) I was also profoundly affected by a recurring phrase throughout the book, “There is always a ford.” As a dabbler in military history (and player of war games based on historical battles), I can definitely see the wisdom in that statement in both its literal and figurative sense.
In the fantastic sense, I would definitely call Flint and Mirror a “low-magic” scenario. Its idea of magic is not flamboyant or decisive. There is no question in the narrative as to whether the magic has an effect on events, but it is a subtle effect in all but a couple of cases. The magical concept in the novel seems to depend on one’s own receptiveness. Who knows how “real” O’Neill’s messages from the queen are? The narrative assumes they are real, but one could easily form a psychological explanation (probably involving Stockholm Syndrome) for these words that hold the O’Neill back for so long. Even the appearance of the “Wild Hunt” at a critical juncture could be read “between-the-lines” as a hallucination.
As with another novel recently read, I definitely have ambivalent feelings about Flint and Mirror. On the one hand, the mix of history, folklore, and poetic description was delightful. On the other hand, the blending of the selkie story with the historical saga felt disjointed at times. Worse, it seemed as if the selkie story had less impact on the outworking of events than the supposed grand magic. I’m glad I read Flint and Mirror, but there were times when it was work, laborious to read. There were times when I didn’t quite care about certain aspects of the plot.
Flint and Mirror is told from the perspective of the protagonist’s life as he unburdens himself to his confessor after a long life and a humiliating defeat. Much of Flint and Mirror consists of the balance between a Celtic artifact which ties the O’Neill (aka Earl of Tyrone) to his Celtic ancestors and an obsidian mirror, ensorcelled by the infamous John Dee, which ties him to the awareness of Elizabeth I. At one point, protagonist O’Neill is said to have been at the center of a balance beam in trying to balance the two sides (p. 150, but possibly an unfortunate anachronism since the first reference of which I am aware was in the early 19th century—perhaps, late 18th century). A better simile suggested he was, “like an actor in a theater playing two parts, changing clothes and beard and voice all in a moment and then back again.” (p. 152) This is, after all, the time of Elizabeth.
That the O’Neill’s situation was a tough one is demonstrated by the number of duplicitous acts done against him and, in his defense. When he deals with some traitors, his second wife responds to him like Michael Corleon’s wife in The Godfather, and she gets pretty much the same response. “You are not to ask such things, you have no right to be told them. You are now and henceforth to ask me nothing of my actions and my judgements. It is for your own peace and comfort that I say that.” (p. 164) I was also profoundly affected by a recurring phrase throughout the book, “There is always a ford.” As a dabbler in military history (and player of war games based on historical battles), I can definitely see the wisdom in that statement in both its literal and figurative sense.
In the fantastic sense, I would definitely call Flint and Mirror a “low-magic” scenario. Its idea of magic is not flamboyant or decisive. There is no question in the narrative as to whether the magic has an effect on events, but it is a subtle effect in all but a couple of cases. The magical concept in the novel seems to depend on one’s own receptiveness. Who knows how “real” O’Neill’s messages from the queen are? The narrative assumes they are real, but one could easily form a psychological explanation (probably involving Stockholm Syndrome) for these words that hold the O’Neill back for so long. Even the appearance of the “Wild Hunt” at a critical juncture could be read “between-the-lines” as a hallucination.
As with another novel recently read, I definitely have ambivalent feelings about Flint and Mirror. On the one hand, the mix of history, folklore, and poetic description was delightful. On the other hand, the blending of the selkie story with the historical saga felt disjointed at times. Worse, it seemed as if the selkie story had less impact on the outworking of events than the supposed grand magic. I’m glad I read Flint and Mirror, but there were times when it was work, laborious to read. There were times when I didn’t quite care about certain aspects of the plot.
June 29, 2022
John Crowley’s Flint and Mirror brims with fascinating, well-crafted history. Sadly, the accompanying magic feels less essential.
The story is primarily set in 16th-century Ireland following Queen Elizabeth’s assumption of the English throne. Her father, Henry VIII (the second monarch of the infamous Tudor dynasty), had already begun England’s shift to Protestantism and conquest of Ireland. Much of its people remained staunchly Catholic, however, and Elizabeth sought to finish bringing the isle to heel.
Crowley’s protagonist is Hugh O’Neill, heir to a line of Irish royalty. Flint and Mirror tells the tale of O’Neill’s long life in a short span of pages, chronicling his early days as an English ward—brought to London under the premise that “like an eyas falcon, a young Irish lord if taken early enough might later come more willingly to the English wrist”—his rise to power in Ireland, and his eventual rebellion against his former colonial benefactors.
There’s much to admire here. Crowley relates the brutality of the occupying English forces without casting O’Neill as a wholly innocent hero. Flint and Mirror also gives a sense of larger happenings in Europe, often from unexpected vantages. (My favorite example: when a minor character watches a storm wreck wayward ships of the Spanish Armada upon a rocky section of the Irish coast. O’Neill then takes in some of the survivors—allies in the fight against Protestant England—and shelters them until the time comes to wage “the last war against … the Queen’s armies.”)
And the prose is gorgeous. Some memorable lines:
- “The Earl looked down on himself, the red curls of his breast gone gray, the scars and welts where no hair grew. The land that was himself, in all its history.”
- "With a great yawn, a gulp of morning, he awoke entirely at last.”
- “As though she were some fabulous many-walled fort, mined and breached, through the slashings and partings of her outer dress another could be seen, and where that was opened there was another, and lace beneath that.”
Yet Crowley casts Flint and Mirror as a historical fantasy without making the fantasy consequential.
The two objects in the title are magical artifacts given to O’Neill during his youth. One is of Irish origin, the other English. But despite suggestions that they might allow him to summon mythical allies to his aid or spy on his enemies, we never see him wield these powers in meaningful fashion. We’re also told there’s a larger “war in heaven” underway, but this doesn’t play out on the page either. Mostly, the magic in Flint and Mirror serves the symbolic function of explaining O’Neill’s conflicting loyalties (and perhaps doubles as a larger metaphor for Ireland’s fraught relationship with England). For similar reasons, I wish the subplot featuring an Irish woman and a creature of legend had impacted the main storyline.
To repeat, though, Crowley’s writing is beautiful—more than good enough to keep me going through the sections where I wondered whether Flint and Mirror should have been straight historical fiction. Here’s another quote to whet your appetite (a description of the Spanish sailors O’Neill rescued): “Only when they were called to war at last, given arms and armor from the hidden stores of the earl of Ulster and the lord of Tyrconnell and ordered to the south for the last battle, did they inspire fear as they went: dressed in white, as they had when they were seamen, daghaidhe duvh, dark of face, they would seem as they moved over the land to be of that black tribe of the O’Donahues that cast no shadow. Yet they went in hope to join their old ships, that were sailing again for Ireland from Spain: to join the fight against the English on Ireland’s behalf, and on the side of those who had saved them.”
Stirring stuff in any genre, and worth reading in full.
(For more reviews like this one, see www.nickwisseman.com)
The story is primarily set in 16th-century Ireland following Queen Elizabeth’s assumption of the English throne. Her father, Henry VIII (the second monarch of the infamous Tudor dynasty), had already begun England’s shift to Protestantism and conquest of Ireland. Much of its people remained staunchly Catholic, however, and Elizabeth sought to finish bringing the isle to heel.
Crowley’s protagonist is Hugh O’Neill, heir to a line of Irish royalty. Flint and Mirror tells the tale of O’Neill’s long life in a short span of pages, chronicling his early days as an English ward—brought to London under the premise that “like an eyas falcon, a young Irish lord if taken early enough might later come more willingly to the English wrist”—his rise to power in Ireland, and his eventual rebellion against his former colonial benefactors.
There’s much to admire here. Crowley relates the brutality of the occupying English forces without casting O’Neill as a wholly innocent hero. Flint and Mirror also gives a sense of larger happenings in Europe, often from unexpected vantages. (My favorite example: when a minor character watches a storm wreck wayward ships of the Spanish Armada upon a rocky section of the Irish coast. O’Neill then takes in some of the survivors—allies in the fight against Protestant England—and shelters them until the time comes to wage “the last war against … the Queen’s armies.”)
And the prose is gorgeous. Some memorable lines:
- “The Earl looked down on himself, the red curls of his breast gone gray, the scars and welts where no hair grew. The land that was himself, in all its history.”
- "With a great yawn, a gulp of morning, he awoke entirely at last.”
- “As though she were some fabulous many-walled fort, mined and breached, through the slashings and partings of her outer dress another could be seen, and where that was opened there was another, and lace beneath that.”
Yet Crowley casts Flint and Mirror as a historical fantasy without making the fantasy consequential.
The two objects in the title are magical artifacts given to O’Neill during his youth. One is of Irish origin, the other English. But despite suggestions that they might allow him to summon mythical allies to his aid or spy on his enemies, we never see him wield these powers in meaningful fashion. We’re also told there’s a larger “war in heaven” underway, but this doesn’t play out on the page either. Mostly, the magic in Flint and Mirror serves the symbolic function of explaining O’Neill’s conflicting loyalties (and perhaps doubles as a larger metaphor for Ireland’s fraught relationship with England). For similar reasons, I wish the subplot featuring an Irish woman and a creature of legend had impacted the main storyline.
To repeat, though, Crowley’s writing is beautiful—more than good enough to keep me going through the sections where I wondered whether Flint and Mirror should have been straight historical fiction. Here’s another quote to whet your appetite (a description of the Spanish sailors O’Neill rescued): “Only when they were called to war at last, given arms and armor from the hidden stores of the earl of Ulster and the lord of Tyrconnell and ordered to the south for the last battle, did they inspire fear as they went: dressed in white, as they had when they were seamen, daghaidhe duvh, dark of face, they would seem as they moved over the land to be of that black tribe of the O’Donahues that cast no shadow. Yet they went in hope to join their old ships, that were sailing again for Ireland from Spain: to join the fight against the English on Ireland’s behalf, and on the side of those who had saved them.”
Stirring stuff in any genre, and worth reading in full.
(For more reviews like this one, see www.nickwisseman.com)
April 22, 2023
A historical novel with just a touch of fantasy and lots of folklore because it's located in Ireland in the latter part of Queen Elizabeth's reign.
The hero is Hugh O'Neill, the Earl of Tyrone, and later, the O'Neill, a title bestowed on him pursuant to Irish tradition by his family. Being the O'Neill meant he had full control of the O'Neill lands and the ability to raise an army.
The English encroachment of Ireland began in 1542 during the reign of Henry VIII. That encroachment ramped up significantly during his daughter Queen Elizabeth's reign.
What happened then in Ireland and under subsequent English monarchs was often on par with what in the modern era would be considered genocide. The Irish were displaced from their lands without regard to resettlement or providing for their basic needs. They were persecuted for their religion and culture (including language). Soldiers fending for their property rights and those of their Irish lord were considered rebels and imprisoned under extreme conditions or executed. Ireland was England's first effort at colonization, and their need for control of the people being colonized was absolute. This was a pattern that would carry forth all the way through Queen Victoria's time.
Lord Tyrone tried to walk the line between being a subject of the Queen and asserting his rights under Irish law and tradition. It was a quest first for his elevation to his rightful title, then a quest to keep his lands and title despite the machinations of the English leadership.
The book is full of wonderfully crafted characters. That, and the history, makes it worth reading.
The hero is Hugh O'Neill, the Earl of Tyrone, and later, the O'Neill, a title bestowed on him pursuant to Irish tradition by his family. Being the O'Neill meant he had full control of the O'Neill lands and the ability to raise an army.
The English encroachment of Ireland began in 1542 during the reign of Henry VIII. That encroachment ramped up significantly during his daughter Queen Elizabeth's reign.
What happened then in Ireland and under subsequent English monarchs was often on par with what in the modern era would be considered genocide. The Irish were displaced from their lands without regard to resettlement or providing for their basic needs. They were persecuted for their religion and culture (including language). Soldiers fending for their property rights and those of their Irish lord were considered rebels and imprisoned under extreme conditions or executed. Ireland was England's first effort at colonization, and their need for control of the people being colonized was absolute. This was a pattern that would carry forth all the way through Queen Victoria's time.
Lord Tyrone tried to walk the line between being a subject of the Queen and asserting his rights under Irish law and tradition. It was a quest first for his elevation to his rightful title, then a quest to keep his lands and title despite the machinations of the English leadership.
The book is full of wonderfully crafted characters. That, and the history, makes it worth reading.
May 3, 2022
3 1/2 stars rounded up.
I've been reading more and more historical fiction lately, and I'm really happy that I've found time to enjoy the genre more. My latest read in this vein is Flint and Mirror by John Crowley.
Two sides are fighting the same war. The Irish seek to protect their lands, people, and way of life. The Queen and her people seek to make more of the world English. Two sides, two very different perspectives.
Hugh O'Neill is part of this war, being the Earl of Tyrone. He receives orders directly from the Queen. Yet the Irish also lay a claim on him, making him their champion.
If you like historical fiction, and more importantly, like John Crowley's writing style, then I think you're going to love Flint and Mirror. I will say that the prose pretty much won me over right from the start. It flowed so smoothly and was such a delight to read.
Flint and Mirror was a shockingly complex tale, with so many moving pieces. Despite this complexity, it wasn't difficult to follow - Crowley's writing and his characters make it easy to stay invested.
I can't really comment on the historical accuracy of any of this, not being a history buff. But I did enjoy those elements and would like to think I learned something new (I hope?). I would love to hear what others have to say on that count.
Thanks to Tor Books and #NetGalley for making this book available for review. All opinions expressed are my own.
Read more reviews over at Quirky Cat's Fat Stacks
I've been reading more and more historical fiction lately, and I'm really happy that I've found time to enjoy the genre more. My latest read in this vein is Flint and Mirror by John Crowley.
Two sides are fighting the same war. The Irish seek to protect their lands, people, and way of life. The Queen and her people seek to make more of the world English. Two sides, two very different perspectives.
Hugh O'Neill is part of this war, being the Earl of Tyrone. He receives orders directly from the Queen. Yet the Irish also lay a claim on him, making him their champion.
If you like historical fiction, and more importantly, like John Crowley's writing style, then I think you're going to love Flint and Mirror. I will say that the prose pretty much won me over right from the start. It flowed so smoothly and was such a delight to read.
Flint and Mirror was a shockingly complex tale, with so many moving pieces. Despite this complexity, it wasn't difficult to follow - Crowley's writing and his characters make it easy to stay invested.
I can't really comment on the historical accuracy of any of this, not being a history buff. But I did enjoy those elements and would like to think I learned something new (I hope?). I would love to hear what others have to say on that count.
Thanks to Tor Books and #NetGalley for making this book available for review. All opinions expressed are my own.
Read more reviews over at Quirky Cat's Fat Stacks
August 6, 2022
It is a difficult thing, almost impossible really, to do for me to write a review of a book by John Crowley. Mainly because when I read one of his books, I always have the feeling that, oh, here, I have come home, at last. But also because with this one in particular I had a kind of hesitation, or struggle, while reading it to know what I was feeling and thinking about it, especially when the storyline first move way from O'Neill to Desmond, and then to Eineen and Cormac.
It is sad, a beautiful sadness, and many of the topics that John Crowley has been questioning in his previous books are there.
Now that several days have passed since I finished it, I can write: it was exactly as its subject is, a charm, a cantrip, an enchantment. And it worked its magic on me.
It is sad, a beautiful sadness, and many of the topics that John Crowley has been questioning in his previous books are there.
Now that several days have passed since I finished it, I can write: it was exactly as its subject is, a charm, a cantrip, an enchantment. And it worked its magic on me.
September 29, 2022
A historical fiction book with a hint of fantasy. John Crowley tells the life of Hugh O'Neil, Earl of Tyrone and the Nine Years War during the Elizabethan era. Hugh is torn between his homeland in Ulster and his upbringing in England, represented by two items he carries on him at all times. A flint, representing the promise of the Sidhe to aid him, and an obsidian mirror that hangs around his neck and speaks to him the whishes of Queen Elizabeth.
Also interconnected is the tales of a woman who falls in love with a selkie, and Grainne O'Malley the pirate queen of west Ireland.
Also interconnected is the tales of a woman who falls in love with a selkie, and Grainne O'Malley the pirate queen of west Ireland.
July 8, 2022
Unexpected yet completely Crowley, another contemplation on the day magic faded, only this time against a wholly historical background, the struggle between Ireland and England during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. Marvelous.
August 16, 2022
For fans of Bernard Cornwell due to the historical political intrigue and warfare but with a hint of magic thrown in. Not really my thing honestly.
April 7, 2023
This was an interesting take on an alternate history of Ireland with magic and angels. I enjoyed it overall and would be interested in reading a sequel.
August 9, 2024
DNF. Ein junger irischer Edelmann kommt an einen englischen Hof, damit er dann in Zukunft englandfreundlicher ist. Fantastisch verfremdete Erzählung über Irland vs. England im 16./17. Jhdt. War mir wurscht, hab nach 15% aufgehört.
June 15, 2022
Stylish, with nods to Crowley's other work, but I just didn't care about his Hugh O'Neill. OK, I'm convinced he was an important character in Irish history, but I wasn't persuaded his life and times were worthy of novelisation.
May 17, 2022
Crowley is one of the best, ever, period, but this is not one of his best. It probably should have remained a novella, although the full version has a certain gravity I find appealing. It might be a book best reread, who knows?
Still, if we had even one Crowley for every 10 squeecore ink slingers out there, we might salvage this thing called speculative literature.
Still, if we had even one Crowley for every 10 squeecore ink slingers out there, we might salvage this thing called speculative literature.
April 3, 2024
This book was not necessarily bad, but it wasn’t what I signed up for. When I saw it labeled as a historical fiction with touches of fantasy I figured it was right up my alley, but it read more as a closer to a historically accurate fiction with very little fantasy. Not bad but not my cup of tea.
October 17, 2022
The highs of this are really good—the opening story of a young Irish noble going to England and meeting John Dee, the mysterious selkie visitation, which I was not surprised to discover was originally a separate story—but it doesn't really hang together as a novel. It skips like a stone across time, sometimes in close, sometimes at a distance and it's hard to get a sense of it. And all the characters named Hugh!
This is a magical realist history of one Hugh O'Neill, as the English took over during the reign of Elizabeth I and sometimes he is their ally and sometimes their enemy. I had a lot of trouble following what was happening. At one point I read his wikipedia page, hoping it would clarify, but actually I just ended up more confused. It turns out he lived an extremely eventful life in an eventful time and it was all very one thing after another, which this novel didn't really seem interested in helping me with.
Still, a new Crowley book is always to be celebrated.
This is a magical realist history of one Hugh O'Neill, as the English took over during the reign of Elizabeth I and sometimes he is their ally and sometimes their enemy. I had a lot of trouble following what was happening. At one point I read his wikipedia page, hoping it would clarify, but actually I just ended up more confused. It turns out he lived an extremely eventful life in an eventful time and it was all very one thing after another, which this novel didn't really seem interested in helping me with.
Still, a new Crowley book is always to be celebrated.
October 15, 2023
Nouveau recit de John Crowley, auteur de Kra, un de mes livres favoris de ces dernieres années.
J'ai eu un beaucoup de mal a entrer et rester accroché à cette lecture.
Un côté historique intéressant, mélangé avec un peu de magie.
Celà n'a pas suffit pour moi, mais j'en ressors avec quelques passages intéressants.
Le livre ne se contentent pas de l'histoire de Hugh O'Neill.
Elle mélange plusieurs points de vue, plusieurs histoires en une seule, sur l'Irlande en général. Sur sa magie et sa géographie qui donne envie de s'y perdre.
Bref, un bon livre qui n'aura pas totalement fonctionné avec moi.
J'ai eu un beaucoup de mal a entrer et rester accroché à cette lecture.
Un côté historique intéressant, mélangé avec un peu de magie.
Celà n'a pas suffit pour moi, mais j'en ressors avec quelques passages intéressants.
Le livre ne se contentent pas de l'histoire de Hugh O'Neill.
Elle mélange plusieurs points de vue, plusieurs histoires en une seule, sur l'Irlande en général. Sur sa magie et sa géographie qui donne envie de s'y perdre.
Bref, un bon livre qui n'aura pas totalement fonctionné avec moi.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 83 reviews