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King Hereafter
In King Hereafter, Dorothy Dunnett's stage is the wild, half-pagan country of eleventh-century Scotland. Her hero is an ungainly young earl with a lowering brow and a taste for intrigue. He calls himself Thorfinn but his Christian name is Macbeth.
Dunnett depicts Macbeth's transformation from an angry boy who refuses to accept his meager share of the Orkney Islands to a suavely accomplished warrior who seizes an empire with the help of a wife as shrewd and valiant as himself.
Dunnett depicts Macbeth's transformation from an angry boy who refuses to accept his meager share of the Orkney Islands to a suavely accomplished warrior who seizes an empire with the help of a wife as shrewd and valiant as himself.
721 pages, Paperback
First published May 12, 1982
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About the author
Dorothy Dunnett
35 books858 followersDorothy Dunnett OBE was a Scottish historical novelist. She is best known for her six-part series about Francis Crawford of Lymond, The Lymond Chronicles, which she followed with the eight-part prequel The House of Niccolò. She also wrote a novel about the real Macbeth called King Hereafter and a series of mystery novels centered on Johnson Johnson, a portrait painter/spy.
Her New York times obituary is here.
Dorothy Dunnett Society: http://dorothydunnett.org
Fansite: http://www.dorothydunnett.co.uk/
Her New York times obituary is here.
Dorothy Dunnett Society: http://dorothydunnett.org
Fansite: http://www.dorothydunnett.co.uk/
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December 5, 2019After Victorians Undone I felt in need of a break from Victorians and so thought I might try one of Dorothy Dunnett's historical novels - the only one in the library was King Hereafter, her take on the Macbeth story. This was possibly for the best as it is a free standing novel while the rest form in to series of books and the county catalogue shows that there is not a complete set of any of her series within the whole county.
Anyway, mildly hopeful, I embarked on board this big fat novel hoping for a rollicking adventure, only to find it grimly ponderous (I mean, can you imagine historical fiction without a single bodice ripped?)
Sadly, Dunnett apparently regarded it as her masterpiece. She certainly did a lot of research to recreate a version of Eleventh century Europe, despite which there were anachronisms which grated on me . At a sentence level it is fine enough, but at the paragraph point it can already seem a bit of strange - at one moment two men are hungry and on the cliff tops of an island, they discuss how in the old days people would rob Cormorant's nests of their eggs, later down on the beach, they roast the birds they had grabbed, and then bite into roast chicken. I was city born and raised, even so I doubt there are many places where chickens nest on cliff tops. But this is being picky .
A novel has to stand on it's characters and the plotting has to be congruent with them. The problem is in my view this book does not have characters, just flat absences much like pieces on a chess board. After some research Dunnett decided that Thorfinn Earl of Orkney and Macbeth King of Scots were the same person. She was not the first to think so. Someone already in the nineteenth century had already had this idea because sources that mentioned Thorfinn never mentioned Macbeth, while sources that mentioned Macbeth never mentioned Thorfinn, this being rather like Clark Kent and Superman, so naturally some people draw that conclusion.
I had the feeling that early Scottish history was sketchy, but had not thought it was quite that sketchy, but then I am not a regular reader of the Annals of Ulster. Anyhow the point of all this is that effectively Dunnett had a blank canvas (or mostly blank). All the stranger then that Thorfinn-Macbeth is such a nothing - he foresees everything perfectly - having a stepson who is the voice of history and so able to see the future helps, he is innocent of ambition or political drive in a back stabbing way (or front stabbing for that matter) instead he has political vision - the birth of a nation, and he is always always more sinned against than sinning (which is a bit boring, where is a good villain when you want one)- however since those who raise their swords against him are curiouly inept any action against him always improves his position. Mysteriously he hates his wife (Ingebjorg- Groa-Gruoch-Lady Macbeth) who hates him too (but then he was obliged to kill her first husband - but then that's politics for you). Then abruptly they both declare that they love each other for no apparent reason .
Another character abruptly declares that he loves Macbeth too (p.175), whether in a friendly or a romantic way I couldn't tell, and I also wondered how and why, since as far as I could tell the characters had only met twice and spent in total maybe half an hour together, only much later was it revealed they might have been in contact for five years. This tempted me to suspect that a queer reading was actually required as it made sense of Macbeth and Sulien, and Macbeth and his cousin Rognvald (thwarted love and Macbeth-Lady Macbeth who not only the first two times rapes his wife but can only do so when drunk .
After a long slow while (this was a ponderous book to wade through until the last two hundred pages, though it starts to pick up speed about half way through) I felt that Dunnett's take on Macbeth was that he was, if not a Christ figure, than at least a martyr who died as the creator of a Scottish nation rather than a Shakesperian intriguing usurper with a fondness for the company of witches. Even though her hero will eventually be taken apart by the evil English he will have given his life's blood to gently working together the disparate peoples of the far north of Britain into a proto-nation, closely linked to all other European nations as an equal, not a mere dependency of the evil English.
At one stage there is a reference to Peter denying Christ three times before that famous fowl pronounced his morning greeting, so I felt validated by the author herself in seeing her Macbeth as a Christ figure, and in the end, because he is such an unbeatable hero he has to be brought down by betrayal. If that wasn't enough there is a Pilatian washing of the hands, sufferings before death (though not a crown of thorns) and eventually like a good martyr a willing stepping forth to death. I feel this is the basis for Dunnett considering this as her masterpiece, Thorfinn-Macbeth as Christ, he died so Scotland might exist.
The novel's structure has a nod to the gospels to - the hero only seen through his works, the sketchy youth, long stretches of his absence, the detailed and precise passion narrative.
Against that, I must admit that Thorfinn-Macbeth's own religious feeling as revealed in the novel could be best described as pre-Christian Voltarian Atheism, or 'I may not believe but I consider it a politically necessary element of state construction that everybody else does, let there be bishops so I have administrators, let there be monasteries so I have loci of trade and workshops'.
That's all well and good but in execution it is strikingly lifeless I think because Thorfinn-Macbeth, very wisely, keeps his own counsel however as a reader this is terrible, we never know what is being planned or what is at stake we only learn later on that something or other was terribly significant, it is like being shown the chessboard once the game is over and told that it was a thrilling match. Further there is a lot of telling the reader who is married to whom, and who someone's third cousin is - there is a lot of that, admittedly as you go back in time politics is more and more a family business, but as far as the novel is concerned, it feels simply like excess weight. Shakespeare made a more compelling story from less material, and maybe that is the key, Dunnett did so much research and uses too much of it, it weighs the text down, while we never know the people taking part in the story they are names and actions without the illusion of interiority. This was not my favourite read of the year.
Anyway, mildly hopeful, I embarked on board this big fat novel hoping for a rollicking adventure, only to find it grimly ponderous (I mean, can you imagine historical fiction without a single bodice ripped?)
Sadly, Dunnett apparently regarded it as her masterpiece. She certainly did a lot of research to recreate a version of Eleventh century Europe, despite which there were anachronisms which grated on me . At a sentence level it is fine enough, but at the paragraph point it can already seem a bit of strange - at one moment two men are hungry and on the cliff tops of an island, they discuss how in the old days people would rob Cormorant's nests of their eggs, later down on the beach, they roast the birds they had grabbed, and then bite into roast chicken. I was city born and raised, even so I doubt there are many places where chickens nest on cliff tops. But this is being picky .
A novel has to stand on it's characters and the plotting has to be congruent with them. The problem is in my view this book does not have characters, just flat absences much like pieces on a chess board. After some research Dunnett decided that Thorfinn Earl of Orkney and Macbeth King of Scots were the same person. She was not the first to think so. Someone already in the nineteenth century had already had this idea because sources that mentioned Thorfinn never mentioned Macbeth, while sources that mentioned Macbeth never mentioned Thorfinn, this being rather like Clark Kent and Superman, so naturally some people draw that conclusion.
I had the feeling that early Scottish history was sketchy, but had not thought it was quite that sketchy, but then I am not a regular reader of the Annals of Ulster. Anyhow the point of all this is that effectively Dunnett had a blank canvas (or mostly blank). All the stranger then that Thorfinn-Macbeth is such a nothing - he foresees everything perfectly - having a stepson who is the voice of history and so able to see the future helps, he is innocent of ambition or political drive in a back stabbing way (or front stabbing for that matter) instead he has political vision - the birth of a nation, and he is always always more sinned against than sinning (which is a bit boring, where is a good villain when you want one)- however since those who raise their swords against him are curiouly inept any action against him always improves his position. Mysteriously he hates his wife (Ingebjorg- Groa-Gruoch-Lady Macbeth) who hates him too (but then he was obliged to kill her first husband - but then that's politics for you). Then abruptly they both declare that they love each other for no apparent reason .
Another character abruptly declares that he loves Macbeth too (p.175), whether in a friendly or a romantic way I couldn't tell, and I also wondered how and why, since as far as I could tell the characters had only met twice and spent in total maybe half an hour together, only much later was it revealed they might have been in contact for five years. This tempted me to suspect that a queer reading was actually required as it made sense of Macbeth and Sulien, and Macbeth and his cousin Rognvald (thwarted love and Macbeth-Lady Macbeth who not only the first two times rapes his wife but can only do so when drunk .
After a long slow while (this was a ponderous book to wade through until the last two hundred pages, though it starts to pick up speed about half way through) I felt that Dunnett's take on Macbeth was that he was, if not a Christ figure, than at least a martyr who died as the creator of a Scottish nation rather than a Shakesperian intriguing usurper with a fondness for the company of witches. Even though her hero will eventually be taken apart by the evil English he will have given his life's blood to gently working together the disparate peoples of the far north of Britain into a proto-nation, closely linked to all other European nations as an equal, not a mere dependency of the evil English.
At one stage there is a reference to Peter denying Christ three times before that famous fowl pronounced his morning greeting, so I felt validated by the author herself in seeing her Macbeth as a Christ figure, and in the end, because he is such an unbeatable hero he has to be brought down by betrayal. If that wasn't enough there is a Pilatian washing of the hands, sufferings before death (though not a crown of thorns) and eventually like a good martyr a willing stepping forth to death. I feel this is the basis for Dunnett considering this as her masterpiece, Thorfinn-Macbeth as Christ, he died so Scotland might exist.
The novel's structure has a nod to the gospels to - the hero only seen through his works, the sketchy youth, long stretches of his absence, the detailed and precise passion narrative.
Against that, I must admit that Thorfinn-Macbeth's own religious feeling as revealed in the novel could be best described as pre-Christian Voltarian Atheism, or 'I may not believe but I consider it a politically necessary element of state construction that everybody else does, let there be bishops so I have administrators, let there be monasteries so I have loci of trade and workshops'.
That's all well and good but in execution it is strikingly lifeless I think because Thorfinn-Macbeth, very wisely, keeps his own counsel however as a reader this is terrible, we never know what is being planned or what is at stake we only learn later on that something or other was terribly significant, it is like being shown the chessboard once the game is over and told that it was a thrilling match. Further there is a lot of telling the reader who is married to whom, and who someone's third cousin is - there is a lot of that, admittedly as you go back in time politics is more and more a family business, but as far as the novel is concerned, it feels simply like excess weight. Shakespeare made a more compelling story from less material, and maybe that is the key, Dunnett did so much research and uses too much of it, it weighs the text down, while we never know the people taking part in the story they are names and actions without the illusion of interiority. This was not my favourite read of the year.
February 21, 2024
It is with a heavy heart that I have downgraded what was previously a 5-star review. I know that Dunnett herself thought this was her best book and it's certainly an impressive piece of research - the problem is that vast swathes of it are unreadable by anyone who wants historical fiction set in the 11th century.
This becomes increasingly self-indulgent as a piece of fictionalised history that dispenses with characterisation and instead gives us a series of talking heads discussing the intricate politics of Sweden, Norway, Iceland, the various regions of England, Wales, Ireland and what is to become Scotland and the islands, as well as Rome and the spread of the Christian church. Fascinating, right? Well, um, no - not without any anchor to cling on to.
Interspersed, are the 'personal' stories of characters we do care for: Thorfinn, Groa, Thorkel and Rognvald, the latter a glorious Dunnett character who could have carried a book of his own.
I've said more about that story in my original review below. But I have to say, reluctantly, that this book is a magnificent failure - and I say that as a fanatical Dunnett fan. Sometimes that's just the way it goes.
Thanks to Nastya, Melindam, Alexandra and Ryan for company on this difficult buddy read!
______________________________
Forget Shakespeare, this is the 'real' Macbeth... as Dunnett imagines him. Half-christian, half-pagan; half-Scottish, half Norse; Macbeth grows before our eyes from an unprepossessing and angry boy, to a man, a warrior and a king.
Like Dunnett's other magisterial books (the Lymond chronicles and House of Niccolo) this isn't ever an easy, formulaic or comfortable read, and the intricacies of the politics means that you have to read this more than once to have even a hope of understanding what is happening, but as any of Dunnett's fanatical fans will tell you, the effort is more than worth the payback.
In some ways this is a very different book from the two series, set in the Renaissance - but the brutality of the politics fits the geography of Scotland, Orkney and Scandinavia admirably.
As always in Dunnett, though the political intrigues are based on fact, the true fascination is with her characters, and here Thorfinn/Macbeth and his wife, Groa, take and deserve centre stage.
The fact that we know how the story will end, is used magnificently by Dunnett, so that as readers we read with a growing dread that must surely mimic the feelings of the characters and still wish that somehow that end can be averted.
Magnificent, alive and ultimately heart-breaking.
This becomes increasingly self-indulgent as a piece of fictionalised history that dispenses with characterisation and instead gives us a series of talking heads discussing the intricate politics of Sweden, Norway, Iceland, the various regions of England, Wales, Ireland and what is to become Scotland and the islands, as well as Rome and the spread of the Christian church. Fascinating, right? Well, um, no - not without any anchor to cling on to.
Interspersed, are the 'personal' stories of characters we do care for: Thorfinn, Groa, Thorkel and Rognvald, the latter a glorious Dunnett character who could have carried a book of his own.
I've said more about that story in my original review below. But I have to say, reluctantly, that this book is a magnificent failure - and I say that as a fanatical Dunnett fan. Sometimes that's just the way it goes.
Thanks to Nastya, Melindam, Alexandra and Ryan for company on this difficult buddy read!
______________________________
Forget Shakespeare, this is the 'real' Macbeth... as Dunnett imagines him. Half-christian, half-pagan; half-Scottish, half Norse; Macbeth grows before our eyes from an unprepossessing and angry boy, to a man, a warrior and a king.
Like Dunnett's other magisterial books (the Lymond chronicles and House of Niccolo) this isn't ever an easy, formulaic or comfortable read, and the intricacies of the politics means that you have to read this more than once to have even a hope of understanding what is happening, but as any of Dunnett's fanatical fans will tell you, the effort is more than worth the payback.
In some ways this is a very different book from the two series, set in the Renaissance - but the brutality of the politics fits the geography of Scotland, Orkney and Scandinavia admirably.
As always in Dunnett, though the political intrigues are based on fact, the true fascination is with her characters, and here Thorfinn/Macbeth and his wife, Groa, take and deserve centre stage.
The fact that we know how the story will end, is used magnificently by Dunnett, so that as readers we read with a growing dread that must surely mimic the feelings of the characters and still wish that somehow that end can be averted.
Magnificent, alive and ultimately heart-breaking.
September 4, 2016
This is a tough book to rate, it is in turns so dense as to be almost incomprehensible (unless you're a historian) and then utterly brilliant. There were long stretches that I almost abandoned the book and then times when I couldn't put it down and read long into the night. So while I have to say the writing is more than a bit uneven in my opinion, it's still Dunnett--and you close the book knowing that you missed many of the subtleties and nuances on a first reading.
I must say that Dunnett's characterization of Thorfinn is beyond masterful. For much of the book I struggled to understand him and his motivations. Wondered why he did the things he did, what made him tick? Occasionally there were small glimpses where Dunnett hinted at his greatness of character, his nobility and honor, his love of his wife, of the land and people, but she had such a restraining hand while painting him. Ultimately she allowed the reader to discover for themselves the inner man--and that takes an exceptionally gifted writer. The fact is I've seldom felt so moved by a character. By the end of the book I understood him, admired him, loved him.
At first I thought to give this 4 stars because of the portions I found difficult to get through, but the characters and the story were remarkably vivid and have stayed with me so much so that I have to give it 5 stars. One caveat: I'd probably only recommend this to Dunnett fans or very determined readers who enjoy their historical fiction on the heavy side and are willing to work their way through a very rewarding read.
Dense and difficult, beautiful, brilliant.
I must say that Dunnett's characterization of Thorfinn is beyond masterful. For much of the book I struggled to understand him and his motivations. Wondered why he did the things he did, what made him tick? Occasionally there were small glimpses where Dunnett hinted at his greatness of character, his nobility and honor, his love of his wife, of the land and people, but she had such a restraining hand while painting him. Ultimately she allowed the reader to discover for themselves the inner man--and that takes an exceptionally gifted writer. The fact is I've seldom felt so moved by a character. By the end of the book I understood him, admired him, loved him.
At first I thought to give this 4 stars because of the portions I found difficult to get through, but the characters and the story were remarkably vivid and have stayed with me so much so that I have to give it 5 stars. One caveat: I'd probably only recommend this to Dunnett fans or very determined readers who enjoy their historical fiction on the heavy side and are willing to work their way through a very rewarding read.
Dense and difficult, beautiful, brilliant.
February 21, 2024
This is a story of a historical Macbeth of Alba who was also Thorfinn of Orkney.
It does for the myth of Scotland what White’s Once and future king does for the myth of England. And as with all mythmaking, you should really not expect juicy drama or character study. No, Thorfinn/Macbeth is just that, a distant martyr figure, a Viking who sacrificed his one true love to the Northern sea to build a country out of very different backwards tribes with their own cultures and languages, to unite them all, to lay the foundation that will withstand the hurricanes of political turmoils of the continent where empires begin to wake up and clash at the borders.
But does this make for an enticing reading? I guess it depends. If you’re Scottish or not, for example. But this is supposed to be a work of fiction and not a book on history. And Dunnett oftentimes forgets it.
I don’t think this is an entirely successful book, I don’t think it will satisfy a reader who loves character studies, the characters who populate these pages are mostly chess pieces in the complicated chess game that is history. They will be mostly just a barrage of names, and those who were gifted the fictional lives of their own will be ruthlessly sacrificed for said history. No other character is a better example of this as a character of Rognvald, the flamboyant Viking, who despite a few fantastic scenes with him was ultimately just an obstacle to overcome, a brutal way of life to be rejected and left in the past on the way to modernity. (That one hurt me, that was the last time I was enjoying this book)
And as a result we got a very uneven book weighted down by historical research that creates that myth of the country and of its leader, The once and future king, who sacrificed, who tried his hardest and who failed because of those grievances of blood relations, just how Arthur failed because of Mordred.
So straight to the point: this is an ok book written by a writer capable of greatness. It is an ambitious book and I respect that. I am a little heartbroken that Dunnett thought this was her masterpiece. But then by some miracle she came out of the gates swinging with Lymond chronicles and all of her later career feels like an attempt to repeat that lightning in the bottle, yet she never could.
And my last advice: if you really want to finish this book, you need your friends to help you get through it, because it will be rough. And here I want to thank my friends Alexandra, Ryan, Melindam and Roman Clodia, without whom I would’ve never finished this book. And wouldn’t have so much fun with it, for sure!
It does for the myth of Scotland what White’s Once and future king does for the myth of England. And as with all mythmaking, you should really not expect juicy drama or character study. No, Thorfinn/Macbeth is just that, a distant martyr figure, a Viking who sacrificed his one true love to the Northern sea to build a country out of very different backwards tribes with their own cultures and languages, to unite them all, to lay the foundation that will withstand the hurricanes of political turmoils of the continent where empires begin to wake up and clash at the borders.
But does this make for an enticing reading? I guess it depends. If you’re Scottish or not, for example. But this is supposed to be a work of fiction and not a book on history. And Dunnett oftentimes forgets it.
I don’t think this is an entirely successful book, I don’t think it will satisfy a reader who loves character studies, the characters who populate these pages are mostly chess pieces in the complicated chess game that is history. They will be mostly just a barrage of names, and those who were gifted the fictional lives of their own will be ruthlessly sacrificed for said history. No other character is a better example of this as a character of Rognvald, the flamboyant Viking, who despite a few fantastic scenes with him was ultimately just an obstacle to overcome, a brutal way of life to be rejected and left in the past on the way to modernity. (That one hurt me, that was the last time I was enjoying this book)
And as a result we got a very uneven book weighted down by historical research that creates that myth of the country and of its leader, The once and future king, who sacrificed, who tried his hardest and who failed because of those grievances of blood relations, just how Arthur failed because of Mordred.
So straight to the point: this is an ok book written by a writer capable of greatness. It is an ambitious book and I respect that. I am a little heartbroken that Dunnett thought this was her masterpiece. But then by some miracle she came out of the gates swinging with Lymond chronicles and all of her later career feels like an attempt to repeat that lightning in the bottle, yet she never could.
And my last advice: if you really want to finish this book, you need your friends to help you get through it, because it will be rough. And here I want to thank my friends Alexandra, Ryan, Melindam and Roman Clodia, without whom I would’ve never finished this book. And wouldn’t have so much fun with it, for sure!
April 2, 2011
Nope - 5 stars. The longer I sit with it, the better it gets.
I started reading this book with a Dunnett group on Yahoo, but shortly got frustrated because it went so slow and there was virtually no discussion as many (including me) were first time readers and they're Nazis about spoilers. Personally, I don't mind spoilers and sometimes even seek them out. 'Spoilers' implies that all there is to a book is the plot and what happens, and if I know that then the whole book is spoiled. Since this is the story of the life of a king of Alba, as Scotland was called at that time, it's hardly a spoiler to know that he dies in the end. It doesn't take the sadness away. At least not for me. To say that is to say that I don't want to know about the life of the people I love because I know they are going to die in the end. What poppycock. And after a month and a half, I got impatient and just read to the end.
For me, a lot of the enjoyment of a book is in the reading, the way it's written, the characters, the setting, the twists and turns along the way. And this one, being a Dunnett book, has plenty of wealth in all of those story elements.
I never read or studied Shakespeare beyond what I had to in high school, so wasn't familiar with the plot of Macbeth, the Shakespearean play. I just read a summary on Wikipedia and this story is nothing like that. The fictional king, Thorfinn (his Viking name) who later is called Macbeth (his baptismal name) is loosely based on a real king of Scotland who ruled Scotland, then called Alba, from 1040 to 1057. Dunnett's story is a more accurate portrayal of what we know of his life than the famous play, at least according to the Wikipedia article on him. Wikipedia on Macbeth, King of Scotland.
No one matches Dunnett in creating characters. Thorfinn, a tall, gangly, ugly, black haired Viking becomes a hero along the way. Typical Dunnett style, we only see him at first through the eyes of others who may or may not know what is really going on in Thorfinn's head. It becomes clear fairly rapidly that he is a great fighter and smart ... very smart. He's also an independent thinker and this is totally frustrating to his foster father, Thorkel Fostri, a peripheral character who is funny, fierce, loyal and finally lovable. One can only imagine his sorrow after Thorfinn is killed. Thorfinn's wife, Groa, is also a memorable character and is left to finish his work at his death. The love between them is vividly and poignantly written.
The only thing that originally mades me lower my rating from 5 stars is that there is a lot of time spent talking about the people, the family lines, the political machinations, and so forth. I got lost as I could not follow who was related to who and why unless they were main characters. And since we follow Thorfinn/Macbeth's life from around the time he was 5 until his death in his 40's, there are a LOT of people. Fortunately I'm pretty good at picking out the significant people along the way, so was able to keep track of most of what was going on. But after sitting with it for a month, my feelings about the story just keep getting better.
Well worth reading, if a significant investment in time. I read the ebook which was 902 pages.
I started reading this book with a Dunnett group on Yahoo, but shortly got frustrated because it went so slow and there was virtually no discussion as many (including me) were first time readers and they're Nazis about spoilers. Personally, I don't mind spoilers and sometimes even seek them out. 'Spoilers' implies that all there is to a book is the plot and what happens, and if I know that then the whole book is spoiled. Since this is the story of the life of a king of Alba, as Scotland was called at that time, it's hardly a spoiler to know that he dies in the end. It doesn't take the sadness away. At least not for me. To say that is to say that I don't want to know about the life of the people I love because I know they are going to die in the end. What poppycock. And after a month and a half, I got impatient and just read to the end.
For me, a lot of the enjoyment of a book is in the reading, the way it's written, the characters, the setting, the twists and turns along the way. And this one, being a Dunnett book, has plenty of wealth in all of those story elements.
I never read or studied Shakespeare beyond what I had to in high school, so wasn't familiar with the plot of Macbeth, the Shakespearean play. I just read a summary on Wikipedia and this story is nothing like that. The fictional king, Thorfinn (his Viking name) who later is called Macbeth (his baptismal name) is loosely based on a real king of Scotland who ruled Scotland, then called Alba, from 1040 to 1057. Dunnett's story is a more accurate portrayal of what we know of his life than the famous play, at least according to the Wikipedia article on him. Wikipedia on Macbeth, King of Scotland.
No one matches Dunnett in creating characters. Thorfinn, a tall, gangly, ugly, black haired Viking becomes a hero along the way. Typical Dunnett style, we only see him at first through the eyes of others who may or may not know what is really going on in Thorfinn's head. It becomes clear fairly rapidly that he is a great fighter and smart ... very smart. He's also an independent thinker and this is totally frustrating to his foster father, Thorkel Fostri, a peripheral character who is funny, fierce, loyal and finally lovable. One can only imagine his sorrow after Thorfinn is killed. Thorfinn's wife, Groa, is also a memorable character and is left to finish his work at his death. The love between them is vividly and poignantly written.
The only thing that originally mades me lower my rating from 5 stars is that there is a lot of time spent talking about the people, the family lines, the political machinations, and so forth. I got lost as I could not follow who was related to who and why unless they were main characters. And since we follow Thorfinn/Macbeth's life from around the time he was 5 until his death in his 40's, there are a LOT of people. Fortunately I'm pretty good at picking out the significant people along the way, so was able to keep track of most of what was going on. But after sitting with it for a month, my feelings about the story just keep getting better.
Well worth reading, if a significant investment in time. I read the ebook which was 902 pages.
Read
January 27, 2024PHEW!!!! I DID IT!
I am leaving it without rating for the time being.
I guess, as is the way with Dunnett, there have been so many things to admire and feel amazed at, to be frustrated and exhausted with, to love and to hate that I'd better leave it all to cool off.
Once again and despite the unexpected infodump, DD pushed me to explore and read complementary stuff along the way as I only had the sketchiest knowledge of the 10-11th century, so hopefully I have become the wiser from this reading experience.
Buddy read with Nastya (thank you for the prompt!! :), Roman Clodia, Alexandra and Ryan who offered me valuable insight and different POVs and good laughs. And sorry for getting ahead, but I had to push myself for fear of abandoning it all otherwise. I will go on discussing it with y'all.
Awesome narration by David Rintoul whom I cannot praise high enough!!!
I am leaving it without rating for the time being.
I guess, as is the way with Dunnett, there have been so many things to admire and feel amazed at, to be frustrated and exhausted with, to love and to hate that I'd better leave it all to cool off.
Once again and despite the unexpected infodump, DD pushed me to explore and read complementary stuff along the way as I only had the sketchiest knowledge of the 10-11th century, so hopefully I have become the wiser from this reading experience.
Buddy read with Nastya (thank you for the prompt!! :), Roman Clodia, Alexandra and Ryan who offered me valuable insight and different POVs and good laughs. And sorry for getting ahead, but I had to push myself for fear of abandoning it all otherwise. I will go on discussing it with y'all.
Awesome narration by David Rintoul whom I cannot praise high enough!!!
sampled-and-declined
February 11, 2016After reading two parts of the four from this enormous book, 400 pages or thereabouts, I gave up with more regret than I'd have anticipated; partly because I was enthusiastic about finding out a "historical" rendition of the life of the real Macbeth behind Shakespeare's play, and partly because this author had given me great moments before, only to fail me afterwards, so I'd hoped this would be the definite rebound.
But no, it wasn't. I'm starting to think Dunnett doesn't know what moderation and balance mean, because she rushes from one extreme to the other. If her Lymond Chronicles are so difficult for the obtuse plot and the way too scarce information she gives to the point of leaving first-time readers confused and frustrated in the dark, this novel is unexpectedly infodumpy and excruciatingly so. If Lymond is a perfect specimen of male beauty and she doesn't waste a chance to remind us that he's both genders' wet dream, Thorfinn is a perfect specimen of male ugliness and she is wont to repeat for our benefit just how ugly he is, always has been and always will be. If the language in the Lymond series is full of literary quotes in several languages that nobody but a scholar understands, this one avoids at all costs to include phrases in Norse and Gaelic, doing so only when it's unavoidable or when a word is not so translatable directly into English . . . and so on. And whilst I understand she may have felt a need to separate this novel from her better known work so all this differentiation could be deliberate, I'm also sure that balance was a desirable goal that I don't think she strove for.
The major flaw, and the one that made me bail out of this, was the abundance of as you knows, which was quite a surprise because, as I've mentioned, Dunnett isn't known for spoon-feeding information to her readers. On the contrary, she expects readers to find out by themselves and doesn't take them by the hand so they won't stumble. Oh, sure, she loves so much to show off her vast knowledge, and that might be another factor in this, too. I am aware that turn-of-the-millennium Orkney is neither a period nor a place the average HF reader will be versed in; I sure don't know a thing about the Orkney islands during the Dark Ages and my knowledge of 11th century Scotland is pitiful, but that's no excuse for the author's taking the "they won't know, so I'll tell them everything" path and dropping large and persistent descriptive passages that read along the lines of "In Whatstheplace, the Mormaer of X did . . .", "Meanwhile, Earl Whatshisname of Whatsthatotherplace had . . .", "Whoeverheis of Y had gone to . . . and King Canute had been in Whereverthatis . . ." and so on. She tells us what's what, who's who, what they're doing, whose family they are, who married whom and how they bedded, how many children and cattle they have, who they're related to, what happened in Norway whilst this was happening in Orkney and what happened in Alba whilst that was happening in Normandy, and how much it snowed in this place whilst . . .
Just damnably exhausting!
I didn't pick this book to be told everything, and I don't want (plus I suspect I don't need to) know every single piece of historical data to enjoy a novel. I don't want to know where every character is placed, and I don't need to keep track of everyone all the bloody time, and I definitely don't want to be force-fed too much information. I want a story, and this monsoon downpouring style of narration that drags on and on and on for double the length of an average novel isn't telling one. It's plain infodump, and for that there's this nice thing called an encyclopaedia. It just sucks all energy and joy out of reading, all interest in learning more about the time and people on my own once I'm done reading.
As for the main character, I am not qualified to opine on the plausibility of Dunnett's theory that the Scottish king Macbeth mac Finlay and the Viking earl Thorfinn Sigurdsson (she spells it Sigurdarson here) are one and the same, I don't possess enough knowledge to agree with it or discard it on a purely historic basis, but as a reader as well as for what I do know, I lean towards disagreeing with the use of this hypothesis as the main plot seeing the poor results in terms of story and the suspension of disbelief that implies the explanation of why Thorfinn is Macbeth (it's just his baptism name!) as well as combining Ingibjorg Finnsdottir with Lady Gruoch because, if Macbeth can be two different men rolled into one, then why not Lady Macbeth too? And Dunnett's Macbeth is one flat character, although in fairness it's possible that it's a result of not having a POV and if I know this writer, she's likely to try to make him sympathetic later in the book. No, he's not unlikable. He's simply flat, and uninteresting, borderline one-note at times, and annoying at other times, especially when younger. I can't help but muse that she may have lost one good plot potential in having Thorfinn and Macbeth as separate people instead, and also she may have written herself into a corner with her decision to tell all of Macbeth's life since he was 5 years old to his death in one single novel, which could be why she also forces so much information in as an attempt to not leave anything out instead of just letting it flow following a certain story of smaller scope, not his whole life.
So, there you have it: infodumping at intolerable levels, too much telling, dragging narration, flatness in characterisation and historical hypotheses that stretch belief. I'm out!
But no, it wasn't. I'm starting to think Dunnett doesn't know what moderation and balance mean, because she rushes from one extreme to the other. If her Lymond Chronicles are so difficult for the obtuse plot and the way too scarce information she gives to the point of leaving first-time readers confused and frustrated in the dark, this novel is unexpectedly infodumpy and excruciatingly so. If Lymond is a perfect specimen of male beauty and she doesn't waste a chance to remind us that he's both genders' wet dream, Thorfinn is a perfect specimen of male ugliness and she is wont to repeat for our benefit just how ugly he is, always has been and always will be. If the language in the Lymond series is full of literary quotes in several languages that nobody but a scholar understands, this one avoids at all costs to include phrases in Norse and Gaelic, doing so only when it's unavoidable or when a word is not so translatable directly into English . . . and so on. And whilst I understand she may have felt a need to separate this novel from her better known work so all this differentiation could be deliberate, I'm also sure that balance was a desirable goal that I don't think she strove for.
The major flaw, and the one that made me bail out of this, was the abundance of as you knows, which was quite a surprise because, as I've mentioned, Dunnett isn't known for spoon-feeding information to her readers. On the contrary, she expects readers to find out by themselves and doesn't take them by the hand so they won't stumble. Oh, sure, she loves so much to show off her vast knowledge, and that might be another factor in this, too. I am aware that turn-of-the-millennium Orkney is neither a period nor a place the average HF reader will be versed in; I sure don't know a thing about the Orkney islands during the Dark Ages and my knowledge of 11th century Scotland is pitiful, but that's no excuse for the author's taking the "they won't know, so I'll tell them everything" path and dropping large and persistent descriptive passages that read along the lines of "In Whatstheplace, the Mormaer of X did . . .", "Meanwhile, Earl Whatshisname of Whatsthatotherplace had . . .", "Whoeverheis of Y had gone to . . . and King Canute had been in Whereverthatis . . ." and so on. She tells us what's what, who's who, what they're doing, whose family they are, who married whom and how they bedded, how many children and cattle they have, who they're related to, what happened in Norway whilst this was happening in Orkney and what happened in Alba whilst that was happening in Normandy, and how much it snowed in this place whilst . . .
Just damnably exhausting!
I didn't pick this book to be told everything, and I don't want (plus I suspect I don't need to) know every single piece of historical data to enjoy a novel. I don't want to know where every character is placed, and I don't need to keep track of everyone all the bloody time, and I definitely don't want to be force-fed too much information. I want a story, and this monsoon downpouring style of narration that drags on and on and on for double the length of an average novel isn't telling one. It's plain infodump, and for that there's this nice thing called an encyclopaedia. It just sucks all energy and joy out of reading, all interest in learning more about the time and people on my own once I'm done reading.
As for the main character, I am not qualified to opine on the plausibility of Dunnett's theory that the Scottish king Macbeth mac Finlay and the Viking earl Thorfinn Sigurdsson (she spells it Sigurdarson here) are one and the same, I don't possess enough knowledge to agree with it or discard it on a purely historic basis, but as a reader as well as for what I do know, I lean towards disagreeing with the use of this hypothesis as the main plot seeing the poor results in terms of story and the suspension of disbelief that implies the explanation of why Thorfinn is Macbeth (it's just his baptism name!) as well as combining Ingibjorg Finnsdottir with Lady Gruoch because, if Macbeth can be two different men rolled into one, then why not Lady Macbeth too? And Dunnett's Macbeth is one flat character, although in fairness it's possible that it's a result of not having a POV and if I know this writer, she's likely to try to make him sympathetic later in the book. No, he's not unlikable. He's simply flat, and uninteresting, borderline one-note at times, and annoying at other times, especially when younger. I can't help but muse that she may have lost one good plot potential in having Thorfinn and Macbeth as separate people instead, and also she may have written herself into a corner with her decision to tell all of Macbeth's life since he was 5 years old to his death in one single novel, which could be why she also forces so much information in as an attempt to not leave anything out instead of just letting it flow following a certain story of smaller scope, not his whole life.
So, there you have it: infodumping at intolerable levels, too much telling, dragging narration, flatness in characterisation and historical hypotheses that stretch belief. I'm out!
January 17, 2018
In which Dorothy Dunnett conflates two semi-apocryphal historical figures: Thorfinn the Mighty (from one of the Icelandic sagas) and Macbeth (from that play you were probably made to read in high school or in college).
Basically, we begin with young Thorfinn back in the 11th Century and follow him as he becomes first Earl of Orkney, then eventually King of Alba (early Scotland). And then, of course, things begin to go horribly, horribly wrong ...
Oh, and when Thorfinn takes the White Christ, his given christening name is, yes, Macbeth.
I'm not gonna lie to you, Marge -- it's been a long, long time since I've seen or read Macbeth, so I didn't really remember much about the events of the play; and I'm even less well acquainted with Icelandic sagas. But still: This was a magnificent (very dense, very well-researched, heavily plotted) book, and my enjoyment of it was in no way marred by my shocking ignorance.
Thorfinn is a compelling character, possibly almost as clever as he thinks he is; and his wife Groa is equally compelling, and their relationship is one of the foundations of the entire story. His ascension to power is almost deceptively matter-of-fact, although before the end of things there'll be negotiations and betrayals and sword-strokes aplenty; and Dunnett's prose is a joy to read, witty and evocative.
This is the first Dorothy Dunnett novel I've read; it certainly won't be the last.
Basically, we begin with young Thorfinn back in the 11th Century and follow him as he becomes first Earl of Orkney, then eventually King of Alba (early Scotland). And then, of course, things begin to go horribly, horribly wrong ...
Oh, and when Thorfinn takes the White Christ, his given christening name is, yes, Macbeth.
I'm not gonna lie to you, Marge -- it's been a long, long time since I've seen or read Macbeth, so I didn't really remember much about the events of the play; and I'm even less well acquainted with Icelandic sagas. But still: This was a magnificent (very dense, very well-researched, heavily plotted) book, and my enjoyment of it was in no way marred by my shocking ignorance.
Thorfinn is a compelling character, possibly almost as clever as he thinks he is; and his wife Groa is equally compelling, and their relationship is one of the foundations of the entire story. His ascension to power is almost deceptively matter-of-fact, although before the end of things there'll be negotiations and betrayals and sword-strokes aplenty; and Dunnett's prose is a joy to read, witty and evocative.
This is the first Dorothy Dunnett novel I've read; it certainly won't be the last.
January 13, 2018
[Review written in 2004]
My first Dunnett, and it's a crackerjack. OK, a big, fat crackerjack historical novel about 11th century Britain, specifically on the life of the (maybe) historic King Macbeth, who ruled Orkney and northern Scotland 1040-1058. For good measure, we get Lady Godiva, too. Plus Duncan, Malcolm, and Duke William waiting for his Big Moment in 1066, over there in Normandy.
Background: http://www.dorothydunnett.co.uk/dunne...
She read some 700 books for KH! And compiled "145 interlocking European family trees, laid out in miniscule writing on a piece of wallpaper 20 feet long." Now, that's research!
Anyway, it's reassuring that the historical background is as good as she could make it, plus it's a ripping (hacking, stabbing, disembowelling...) good yarn. Boy, Britain went seriously downhill, in the civilization dept., after the Romans left. 4.5 stars.
Here's a good review, by Danny Yee:
http://dannyreviews.com/h/King_Hereaf...
"King Hereafter is a dark and sombre work ... and at near nine hundred pages not one to be tackled lightly. It is, however, a rewarding feast for those who like solid historical fiction."
My first Dunnett, and it's a crackerjack. OK, a big, fat crackerjack historical novel about 11th century Britain, specifically on the life of the (maybe) historic King Macbeth, who ruled Orkney and northern Scotland 1040-1058. For good measure, we get Lady Godiva, too. Plus Duncan, Malcolm, and Duke William waiting for his Big Moment in 1066, over there in Normandy.
Background: http://www.dorothydunnett.co.uk/dunne...
She read some 700 books for KH! And compiled "145 interlocking European family trees, laid out in miniscule writing on a piece of wallpaper 20 feet long." Now, that's research!
Anyway, it's reassuring that the historical background is as good as she could make it, plus it's a ripping (hacking, stabbing, disembowelling...) good yarn. Boy, Britain went seriously downhill, in the civilization dept., after the Romans left. 4.5 stars.
Here's a good review, by Danny Yee:
http://dannyreviews.com/h/King_Hereaf...
"King Hereafter is a dark and sombre work ... and at near nine hundred pages not one to be tackled lightly. It is, however, a rewarding feast for those who like solid historical fiction."
Read
September 5, 2013If George Mackay Brown’s Vinland was the kind of historical novel that uses history to make a statement about the present, then King Hereafter is the kind that attempts to immerse its readers as fully as possible in the past, not just by describing historical events but by trying to recreate the mindset of their chosen period, by making their readers think, feel and see the way their characters did, ideally without having a present point of view intrude on the scene at all. Nobody (at least nobody I have read so far) does this type of historical novel better than Dorothy Dunnett: her novels grab the reader and dunk them up to their eyebrows in the sights, sounds and smells of a distant epoch, barely letting them come up for air. This can prove quite challenging for readers who find themselves often called to actually work at understanding what is happening in her novels, retracing an intrigue from casually dropped hints or piecing together hidden conflicts by following up apparently innocuous references. King Hereafter is particularly dense even for Dorothy Dunnett and some parts (like the ecclesiastical factions and their power-games at the beginning of Part 3) proved particularly impenetrable.
In fact, this complete immersion seems to me to achieve for the historical novel what the stream of consciousness technique did for the modernist novel (most famously, James Joyce and Virginia Woolf), namely a radical perspectivism that abstains from all obvious auctorial intervention, leaving readers with no outside frame of reference and forcing them to puzzle things out and construct that frame on their own. Of course, that effect of immediacy – of an individual mind in stream of consciousness, of a historical period in Dunnett’s case – needs to be arranged, requires in fact a great deal of artifice and considerable skill to pull off successfully. And while she might not be quite up with the likes of Joyce and Woolf, Dorothy Dunnett without any doubt deserves to be considered among the greatest historical novelists of the twentieth century.
King Hereafter is somewhat unusual among Dunnett’s novels – for one thing, it is not part of a series but a stand-alone, for another, it is her only novel that has an actual historic figure as its main character. Or possibly two, for the novel has also something like a thesis, namely that Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney was identical with MacBeth, King of Alba (best known from Shakespeare’s play, of course). Apparently, that view is not shared by all historians, but whatever its historical plausibility, Dunnett makes it work for King Hereafter – work on several levels, even. Thorfinn does come across as a convincing, well-rounded character – he does remind one somewhat of Lymond at the start, but I suppose that was unavoidable even though Dorothy Dunnett goes out of her way to make him look different and keeps reminding her readers that he is dark-haired and not particularly good-looking. I would not even put it beyond her that she made the characters intentionally similar, just to then be able to show how they are changed by time and circumstances into two very different people – Thorfinn is changed by being a ruler (this is even one of the themes of the novel) and while the whole of the Lymond saga encompasses only a couple of years, events in King Hereafter span several decades so that we follow Thorfinn as he matures with age.
But even as she merges her two historical originals seamlessly into a single, convincing and fascinating character, there is a split running through King Hereafter – but one that is quite intentional and in fact constitutive for the novel’s basic structure. King Hereafter is divided into four parts, but is really two-part in structure – the first part is about the protagonist’s rise until he becomes secure in his position as King of Alba, the second part describes his rule and eventual downfall; one might say that the first one is about Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney, and the second about MacBeth, King of Alba. At first sight, one might suspect that it is here that the seams where Dunnett stitched her protagonist together become visible, but far from that, for as it turns out the novel is precisely about the movement from small, tribal communities to larger, centralised societies as well as (hardly a coincidence of course) from Pagan polytheism to Christian monotheism. Thorfinn embodies that shift – you really have to read the novel to appreciate just how wonderful a job Dunnett does with this – even though we see him consistently from an outside perspective the novel conveys how he is not so much torn as rather stretched between two epochs and two ways of living, both an earl and a king , a pagan at heart but still trying to come to terms with rising Christendom. And even though it costs him his life, he does in way succeed in the end, achieving the both the opposing goals of managing to keep Orkney an independent earldom while forging Scotland into a kingdom that will endure even after his death. By having its protagonist have a leg in both periods, so to speak, King Hereafter manages to impressively show what is gained and what is lost by the shift from one to the other. And it mirrors it on a formal linguistic level as well – while the first part of the novel is clearly modelled after Icelandic Sagas, telling about heroic deeds and single combat in a language that is both simple but flexible and highly rhythmic, the second part resembles more a historical chronicle, recording diplomatic maneuvers and battles between armies in a language that seems visual rather than verbal, written rather than recited – sound and rhythm being replaced by sight and colour.
I seem to remember reading somewhere that Dunnett herself considered King Hereafter her best work, but I’m inclined to take that as an author’s fondness for her least popular work. As I’m writing this, I have yet to read her House of Niccolo series, but I think overall this novel falls somewhat short of the Lymond Chronicles at their best. King Hereafter certainly has a grander, by far more epic sweep than the earlier series, but precisely because of that lacks somewhat in the fine details that made the Lymond novels stand out so brightly and vividly. Having said that, I hasten to add that King Hereafter is a splendid novel, and worth several dozen minor novels on Vikings, Scotland or medieval history in general. As is usual with Dorothy Dunnett, the novel boasts several unforgettable set pieces, the oar-walking at the beginning alone – breathtakingly exciting and wonderfully exhilarating – is sure to remain in every reader’s memory. I really, really need to start on her Niccolo series soon.
In fact, this complete immersion seems to me to achieve for the historical novel what the stream of consciousness technique did for the modernist novel (most famously, James Joyce and Virginia Woolf), namely a radical perspectivism that abstains from all obvious auctorial intervention, leaving readers with no outside frame of reference and forcing them to puzzle things out and construct that frame on their own. Of course, that effect of immediacy – of an individual mind in stream of consciousness, of a historical period in Dunnett’s case – needs to be arranged, requires in fact a great deal of artifice and considerable skill to pull off successfully. And while she might not be quite up with the likes of Joyce and Woolf, Dorothy Dunnett without any doubt deserves to be considered among the greatest historical novelists of the twentieth century.
King Hereafter is somewhat unusual among Dunnett’s novels – for one thing, it is not part of a series but a stand-alone, for another, it is her only novel that has an actual historic figure as its main character. Or possibly two, for the novel has also something like a thesis, namely that Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney was identical with MacBeth, King of Alba (best known from Shakespeare’s play, of course). Apparently, that view is not shared by all historians, but whatever its historical plausibility, Dunnett makes it work for King Hereafter – work on several levels, even. Thorfinn does come across as a convincing, well-rounded character – he does remind one somewhat of Lymond at the start, but I suppose that was unavoidable even though Dorothy Dunnett goes out of her way to make him look different and keeps reminding her readers that he is dark-haired and not particularly good-looking. I would not even put it beyond her that she made the characters intentionally similar, just to then be able to show how they are changed by time and circumstances into two very different people – Thorfinn is changed by being a ruler (this is even one of the themes of the novel) and while the whole of the Lymond saga encompasses only a couple of years, events in King Hereafter span several decades so that we follow Thorfinn as he matures with age.
But even as she merges her two historical originals seamlessly into a single, convincing and fascinating character, there is a split running through King Hereafter – but one that is quite intentional and in fact constitutive for the novel’s basic structure. King Hereafter is divided into four parts, but is really two-part in structure – the first part is about the protagonist’s rise until he becomes secure in his position as King of Alba, the second part describes his rule and eventual downfall; one might say that the first one is about Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney, and the second about MacBeth, King of Alba. At first sight, one might suspect that it is here that the seams where Dunnett stitched her protagonist together become visible, but far from that, for as it turns out the novel is precisely about the movement from small, tribal communities to larger, centralised societies as well as (hardly a coincidence of course) from Pagan polytheism to Christian monotheism. Thorfinn embodies that shift – you really have to read the novel to appreciate just how wonderful a job Dunnett does with this – even though we see him consistently from an outside perspective the novel conveys how he is not so much torn as rather stretched between two epochs and two ways of living, both an earl and a king , a pagan at heart but still trying to come to terms with rising Christendom. And even though it costs him his life, he does in way succeed in the end, achieving the both the opposing goals of managing to keep Orkney an independent earldom while forging Scotland into a kingdom that will endure even after his death. By having its protagonist have a leg in both periods, so to speak, King Hereafter manages to impressively show what is gained and what is lost by the shift from one to the other. And it mirrors it on a formal linguistic level as well – while the first part of the novel is clearly modelled after Icelandic Sagas, telling about heroic deeds and single combat in a language that is both simple but flexible and highly rhythmic, the second part resembles more a historical chronicle, recording diplomatic maneuvers and battles between armies in a language that seems visual rather than verbal, written rather than recited – sound and rhythm being replaced by sight and colour.
I seem to remember reading somewhere that Dunnett herself considered King Hereafter her best work, but I’m inclined to take that as an author’s fondness for her least popular work. As I’m writing this, I have yet to read her House of Niccolo series, but I think overall this novel falls somewhat short of the Lymond Chronicles at their best. King Hereafter certainly has a grander, by far more epic sweep than the earlier series, but precisely because of that lacks somewhat in the fine details that made the Lymond novels stand out so brightly and vividly. Having said that, I hasten to add that King Hereafter is a splendid novel, and worth several dozen minor novels on Vikings, Scotland or medieval history in general. As is usual with Dorothy Dunnett, the novel boasts several unforgettable set pieces, the oar-walking at the beginning alone – breathtakingly exciting and wonderfully exhilarating – is sure to remain in every reader’s memory. I really, really need to start on her Niccolo series soon.
December 22, 2012
I had never read Shakespeare's Macbeth, and really didn't know the story, in fact I thought he was a fictitious character, so this was new territory for me. The book starts with so many Viking names and places I felt lost after a chapter or two. But, I persevered, and must say it was a very satisfying book. Dorothy Dunnett at her best.
Reared from the age of 5 by a foster-father in the Orkneys, Thorfinn, the Earl of Orkney lives the hard but adventurous life in the north of early Scotland, surrounded by men of Viking-Celtic heritage. By the time he was 12 he was challenging the other Earl of Orkney, his half brother, and even the King of Norway. Grandson of King Malcome of Alba, we follow him in his late teens as he is held "hostage" by King Canute of England, where he learns of court life, and we learn his baptismal name of Macbeth. Returned home, through war Thorfinn becomes the Earl of Alba, acquires a bride as a war prize, and becomes the King of Alba, Earl of Orkney and Caithness. Groa, his wife and helpmate, remains with him for the rest of his life.
The story is of a power struggle between religious and political forces, kings and earls struggling to control land, collect tribute, destroy enemies. The efforts of Thorfinn-Macbeth to unite the separate areas of Scotia by building roads and bridges, establishing a common justice and laws, developing trade centers, establishing farming practices, are what led him to become one of the great kings of history. And I am sorry it took me so long to learn about him.
Reared from the age of 5 by a foster-father in the Orkneys, Thorfinn, the Earl of Orkney lives the hard but adventurous life in the north of early Scotland, surrounded by men of Viking-Celtic heritage. By the time he was 12 he was challenging the other Earl of Orkney, his half brother, and even the King of Norway. Grandson of King Malcome of Alba, we follow him in his late teens as he is held "hostage" by King Canute of England, where he learns of court life, and we learn his baptismal name of Macbeth. Returned home, through war Thorfinn becomes the Earl of Alba, acquires a bride as a war prize, and becomes the King of Alba, Earl of Orkney and Caithness. Groa, his wife and helpmate, remains with him for the rest of his life.
The story is of a power struggle between religious and political forces, kings and earls struggling to control land, collect tribute, destroy enemies. The efforts of Thorfinn-Macbeth to unite the separate areas of Scotia by building roads and bridges, establishing a common justice and laws, developing trade centers, establishing farming practices, are what led him to become one of the great kings of history. And I am sorry it took me so long to learn about him.
September 25, 2022
Thorfinn/Macbeth, the composite character created by Dorothy Dunnett is absolutely compelling. She introduces him as an ill formed, unsympathetic boy, then reveals him to us slowly, through the eyes of others. We grow fascinated with his intensity and determination. Subtly, almost without realizing it, we start to sympathize with him, and finally end by loving the intense, strong and strange man he becomes. While several of her other characters are significant and well formed, all revolve around her one great central character — serving as our eyes and ears in discovering his greatness. What Dunnett has done with him is simply masterful.
The choice to combine Thorfinn the Mighty of the Orkneyinga Saga with Macbeth, King of Alba as a single, composite character was pivotal. It enabled Dunnett to explore the twilight territory between the emerging new faith of Christianity as it uncomfortably existing along side the old pagan ways. The combined character had a foot in each world, and allowed us to see the dangers and complications of navigating in that mixed world. The way she melded the two legends into one was practically seamless, and was done while honoring the histories of both men. It was a bold choice, and central to the success of the novel.
The writing is outstanding, the dialogue sharp, compelling, and witty, the action captivating. Her research of the period and presentation of history is impressive. Dunnett perhaps put too much of her research into the novel, but that is a quibble, King Hereafter is a masterpiece.
The choice to combine Thorfinn the Mighty of the Orkneyinga Saga with Macbeth, King of Alba as a single, composite character was pivotal. It enabled Dunnett to explore the twilight territory between the emerging new faith of Christianity as it uncomfortably existing along side the old pagan ways. The combined character had a foot in each world, and allowed us to see the dangers and complications of navigating in that mixed world. The way she melded the two legends into one was practically seamless, and was done while honoring the histories of both men. It was a bold choice, and central to the success of the novel.
The writing is outstanding, the dialogue sharp, compelling, and witty, the action captivating. Her research of the period and presentation of history is impressive. Dunnett perhaps put too much of her research into the novel, but that is a quibble, King Hereafter is a masterpiece.
July 21, 2025
King Hereafter took me quite a while to finish—not because it didn’t captivate me, but because I was in the middle of a move (which is still ongoing!). While parts of the novel were slower than others, and I admittedly learned more about 11th-century politics in Alba than I ever expected to, Dorothy Dunnett's brilliance shines through. Her ability to seamlessly blend politics, drama, romance, history, religion, geography, seamanship, and warfare into a single, beautifully crafted narrative is nothing short of genius.
February 11, 2022
When you finish a tale of Dunnett’s, whether 6 books of Lymond (the unknowable, the desired), or 8 books of Niccolo (of the incomparable gifts, the ruined/ruiner), you are bereft as you must leave behind such a richly embroidered space and land in the slow time of your own living. With the King Hereafter - where the main character is a real historical person - written after Lymond, and before Nicholas – you are left with grief, as all real men in history die at their appointed times, leaving behind their work, their countries and those who mourn them.
The King Hereafter is by far Dunnett’s most difficult book. Dunnett, at odds with Shakespeare - rectifying with her extensive research, writes the inner and outer life of a real person: Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney. It is early 1000s AD, as this unusual and upright man struggles to bring together the people of Orkey/Caithness and of Northumbria into Scotia. To do this, besides waging war and leveling the hand of the King’s justice, he makes pilgrimage to Rome and accepts the new Roman religion to be able to send his priests out to help unify the people. With one foot in this religion, and one left with the old gods, he takes the Christian name of MacBeth, Son of Life. There is so much history here, so many earls and thanes and kings and bishops over the 700+ pages, that the politics are hard to keep straight, though the extensive lineages at the back of the book help. (Nicholas’ ramblings throughout all of Europe and beyond seem simple!).
All the elements of Dunnett are here in force, and presage similar tropes in the Niccolo series. Here in Orkney DD is feeling the beauty of the land, which cuts to her heart, Thorfinn's heart and ours:
…everything was covered with flowers: the grassland, the machair, the salt marshes, the cliffs the dunes and the wetlands, the moors and the peat bogs, the shingle and the bare, rocky outcrops, the banks of the streams and the lochs.
There is an early sea battle off the west of the island of Hoy in the beginning that will simply take your breath away:
And around him, men were dying… Thorfinn had no reserves left, of casting-spears or of arrows. For a moment, indeed, the fighting was so hard that he thought he was fainting, for his eyes blurred, and the prow of the enemy ship for a moment seems wreathed in smoke, as if its dragon had come to life and the golden-haired demon at its neck, laughing, was a thing of white flame and sulphur.
There is the cadre of loyalists around the great man (major DD trope)- Sulien the Irish priest who sees his gifts and loves him, Thorkel his foster father who acts as his administrator in the Orkneys, Lulach his step-son with a bit of the magic DD likes so much. And of course, and the greatest of his loves, Groa, the Lady Macbeth. Here Lady Macbeth is given her due,- she is proud, intelligent and both ahelp meet and a leader in her own right; and a refuge for Thorfinn the man. But we all know how it ends in Shakespeare, in history, and here Dunnett’s perspective is a great grief:
Then the dawn came, and showed her an empty bed, and the spears flashing red in the sunrise.
I know I am speaking largely to the most fervent Dunnettites – this tome sees the way through from Lymond to Nicholas and reveals how Dame Dorothy develops the character of Nicholas. But King Hereafter's carefully and beautifully rendered history is also for those interested in North Sea people and politics right before William the Conqueror. Though difficult, it’s worth every puzzlement, and the tears that surely come at the end.
The King Hereafter is by far Dunnett’s most difficult book. Dunnett, at odds with Shakespeare - rectifying with her extensive research, writes the inner and outer life of a real person: Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney. It is early 1000s AD, as this unusual and upright man struggles to bring together the people of Orkey/Caithness and of Northumbria into Scotia. To do this, besides waging war and leveling the hand of the King’s justice, he makes pilgrimage to Rome and accepts the new Roman religion to be able to send his priests out to help unify the people. With one foot in this religion, and one left with the old gods, he takes the Christian name of MacBeth, Son of Life. There is so much history here, so many earls and thanes and kings and bishops over the 700+ pages, that the politics are hard to keep straight, though the extensive lineages at the back of the book help. (Nicholas’ ramblings throughout all of Europe and beyond seem simple!).
All the elements of Dunnett are here in force, and presage similar tropes in the Niccolo series. Here in Orkney DD is feeling the beauty of the land, which cuts to her heart, Thorfinn's heart and ours:
…everything was covered with flowers: the grassland, the machair, the salt marshes, the cliffs the dunes and the wetlands, the moors and the peat bogs, the shingle and the bare, rocky outcrops, the banks of the streams and the lochs.
There is an early sea battle off the west of the island of Hoy in the beginning that will simply take your breath away:
And around him, men were dying… Thorfinn had no reserves left, of casting-spears or of arrows. For a moment, indeed, the fighting was so hard that he thought he was fainting, for his eyes blurred, and the prow of the enemy ship for a moment seems wreathed in smoke, as if its dragon had come to life and the golden-haired demon at its neck, laughing, was a thing of white flame and sulphur.
There is the cadre of loyalists around the great man (major DD trope)- Sulien the Irish priest who sees his gifts and loves him, Thorkel his foster father who acts as his administrator in the Orkneys, Lulach his step-son with a bit of the magic DD likes so much. And of course, and the greatest of his loves, Groa, the Lady Macbeth. Here Lady Macbeth is given her due,- she is proud, intelligent and both ahelp meet and a leader in her own right; and a refuge for Thorfinn the man. But we all know how it ends in Shakespeare, in history, and here Dunnett’s perspective is a great grief:
Then the dawn came, and showed her an empty bed, and the spears flashing red in the sunrise.
I know I am speaking largely to the most fervent Dunnettites – this tome sees the way through from Lymond to Nicholas and reveals how Dame Dorothy develops the character of Nicholas. But King Hereafter's carefully and beautifully rendered history is also for those interested in North Sea people and politics right before William the Conqueror. Though difficult, it’s worth every puzzlement, and the tears that surely come at the end.
July 31, 2023
I just finished reading this for the first time, and I'm still recovering. I'm in a lot of wonderful Dunnett-style pain at the moment.
I've read Dunnett before, having devoured The Lymond Chronicles around this time last year, so I had an idea of what to expect. I knew to prepare myself to feeling confused and in over my head, and to brace myself for meticulous historical detail that I no doubt would struggle to follow. And I'm glad I did because a lot of the importance of the history was lost on me, and there is so much history, none of which I was familiar with.
What wasn't lost on me were the characters. Dunnett leaves Thorfinn aloof from the reader for a lot of novel, only really letting us inside his head towards the end, with devasting effect. He is always a figure slightly ahead of us, which is befitting for the man of foresight and vision that he was. We follow Thorfinn, and his wife the extrordinary Groa, as they grow together, and build a nation together. They are a team, though unlikely at first, and their passages together are beautiful; Dunnett has a wonderful way of letting her characters act and interact, without describing to the reader exactly what they're doing. Dunnett doesn't always tell us, for example, that Thorfinn has now turned his back on Groa and is looking outside, but we gather from her asking him about the cut on the back of his neck, that this is the case. Little things, but it allows the reader to put it together themselves, and it's a more rewarding experience for it. I will definately be re-reading this one, once I have recovered.
Brutal and beautiful, complicated and comical, King Hereafter is certaintly challenging, but certaintly worth it. For the final pages alone, it is worth it.
I've read Dunnett before, having devoured The Lymond Chronicles around this time last year, so I had an idea of what to expect. I knew to prepare myself to feeling confused and in over my head, and to brace myself for meticulous historical detail that I no doubt would struggle to follow. And I'm glad I did because a lot of the importance of the history was lost on me, and there is so much history, none of which I was familiar with.
What wasn't lost on me were the characters. Dunnett leaves Thorfinn aloof from the reader for a lot of novel, only really letting us inside his head towards the end, with devasting effect. He is always a figure slightly ahead of us, which is befitting for the man of foresight and vision that he was. We follow Thorfinn, and his wife the extrordinary Groa, as they grow together, and build a nation together. They are a team, though unlikely at first, and their passages together are beautiful; Dunnett has a wonderful way of letting her characters act and interact, without describing to the reader exactly what they're doing. Dunnett doesn't always tell us, for example, that Thorfinn has now turned his back on Groa and is looking outside, but we gather from her asking him about the cut on the back of his neck, that this is the case. Little things, but it allows the reader to put it together themselves, and it's a more rewarding experience for it. I will definately be re-reading this one, once I have recovered.
Brutal and beautiful, complicated and comical, King Hereafter is certaintly challenging, but certaintly worth it. For the final pages alone, it is worth it.
November 22, 2009
This is perhaps my favorite book of all time. First, the historical detail is incredible (although there are some who fault her for fusing two real leaders). In addition, the plot is tightly woven so that any loose strings are eventually gathered in the end, which is important to me. I hate it when authors bring in people or events and then never refer to them again.
I especially love her characterization. Thorfinn/Macbeth has his flaws, and we always see how thoughtful he is about the decisions he makes, whether they're good or bad. The relationships he has with Groa, Sulien, and his foster father Thorkel are realistically captured. I also like the nod to Shakespeare with the threefold prophecy and the quotes between parts.
Yes, her writing is dense; this is definitely not a beach read. But if you love a great story, try this one. I found myself dreading the end, not because I already knew what happened, but because I didn't want my experience to end. Consequently, I re-read this book probably once a year. (I've also read her six-book Lymond Chronicles and her eight-book Niccolo series, both of which are fantastic as well.) Highly recommended!
I especially love her characterization. Thorfinn/Macbeth has his flaws, and we always see how thoughtful he is about the decisions he makes, whether they're good or bad. The relationships he has with Groa, Sulien, and his foster father Thorkel are realistically captured. I also like the nod to Shakespeare with the threefold prophecy and the quotes between parts.
Yes, her writing is dense; this is definitely not a beach read. But if you love a great story, try this one. I found myself dreading the end, not because I already knew what happened, but because I didn't want my experience to end. Consequently, I re-read this book probably once a year. (I've also read her six-book Lymond Chronicles and her eight-book Niccolo series, both of which are fantastic as well.) Highly recommended!
October 11, 2014
Dunnett is not for me personally, though I appreciated her occasional flashes of brilliance. Most of this novel was dense, turgid and impenetrable: absolutely unreadable. I wanted exposure to her conception of the 'real' Macbeth, since Shakespeare really maligned the guy. I forced myself to plod through this slower-than-molasses book. The different family trees helped, but as a GR Friend mentioned to me, judicious footnoting would not have gone amiss.
October 5, 2015
‘One day,’ Sulien said, ‘I think the Throne of St Peter will be as firm as it seemed, for a moment, it might be; I think the Empire will find a design by which to rule that does not break down between one prince and the next. I think the storms will subside and as nation settles by nation, there will be a place for quiet rule, and for building.
Till then, it will be the fate of most leaders to die in their prime, and the fate of most women to carry forward their essence; their habit of mind; their spirit; their disciplines.…
Till then, it will be the fate of most leaders to die in their prime, and the fate of most women to carry forward their essence; their habit of mind; their spirit; their disciplines.…
March 9, 2024
This book is rating a 4.26 on Goodreads, and I do not understand how that happened. This came really close to hitting a one star for me, but the last little bit pulled it out of the nosedive. Barely.
Friends, I want to tell a story of three media franchises : Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and (to a lesser extent) Superman.
I loved the original trilogy of Star Wars. When The Phantom Menace came out, I was PSYCHED. This movie was amazing! And then there was this little exchange :
I analyzed that scene to death. I wrote an entire script for a documentary film on Palpatine’s rise to power, based on that miniscule exchange. Who ARE Bail Antilles and Ainlee Teem? What do they represent? Why were they nominated instead of others? Keep in mind at that point we knew nothing about them other than a picture in Wookiepedia, and their name drop in this movie. I might be the only person in the history of ever who thought (and still thinks) what Episode I was missing was MORE backroom politicking and Senate speechifying. I am older and wiser now, and while I would still happily have a lengthy debate about to what degree Ainlee Teem’s candidacy was propped up by Darth Sidious to siphon votes and make sure Palpatine got elected, I recognize that the movie was objectively terrible, and I projected a lot of my good feelings from the original trilogy onto it in order to arrive at the conclusion that it was also good. I have to feel like a lot of people who gave this 5* are projecting their love of either Lymond or Niccolo (or both, though I’ve found that people who enjoy both series seem to be kind of rare) onto this. The person who wrote those lovely books couldn’t possibly have written a clunker, right? George Lucas was responsible for Empire Strikes Back; he couldn’t possibly have directed a clunker like Episode I, right? (I know, ESB was actually Kasdan. Don’t @ me, it’s an analogy). Well…Episode I was a clunker. And so is King Hereafter.
Now, let’s talk about The Hobbit movies, and Superman II. The Hobbit was originally helmed by Guillermo del Toro, until abruptly the studio stepped in, cashiered him, and then basically blackmailed Peter Jackson into directing it, resulting in a whole lot of behind the scenes chaos that turned whatever it would have been into the garbled mess that got released. I don’t know to what extent the directorial change affected this, but one of the major problems is that the movies (especially the first one) can’t decide what they want to be. Are they an adaptation of a children’s book, with a light whimsical tone (think of the tossing plates scene, or the ridiculous barrel-riding in the river)? Or are they a spiritual prequel to Lord of the Rings, with all the grand themes and darker tone that conveys (think any of the white council scenes that got added, or Gandalf’s pursuit of the Necromancer)? The movies try to do it both ways, which results in some egregious whiplash where they ended up not doing either successfully. Pick a lane!
Superman II did this much more directly. Richard Donner filmed I and II together, conceiving them as kind of a single whole. Very serious in tone. Halfway through, Donner was replaced with the man who would eventually direct Superman III, Richard Lester. Lester was much more lighthearted and comical, and the resulting film is kind of a mishmashed mess. The fact that it was still reasonably well received I think is due to the fact that Donner had completed 75% of it before getting the axe (Side note : in this modern age, you can watch “Superman II : The Richard Donner Cut”, and I highly recommend that you do as that version is much superior to the theatrical one).
What I’m getting at here is that Dunnett appears to have suffered from a terminal case of two-director-itis here, and can’t make up her mind whether she’s telling historical fiction, or history, and as a result it doesn’t really succeed at either. Decent passages of story moving the plot forward are alternated with long stretches of completely bland history that do absolutely nothing except I guess show off the amount of family tree research she did before writing it? Take this, from early in part IV :
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Oh sorry, where were we? I nodded off while you were reading that. I should also admit at this point I suppose that I nodded off while actually reading the book…more than once. And no, none of the people mentioned in that passage just now are relevant to the plot, and some of them I think were just now introduced, for no apparent reason I can detect.
The characters are flat and wooden, and in many, many cases are barely more than a throwaway name-drop with no color at all. Some guy accompanies Thorfinn to Rome and back, and is mentioned as following him around, but unless you’re really paying attention you wouldn’t realize that he was Thorfinn’s steward? Scribe? I think maybe he becomes a cleric of some sort at some point? Because he’s nothing but a name with no personality. Ditto that with Eachmarchach, or Otfel, or any of a number of other people whose names I can’t be bothered to remember to include on this list because that’s how forgettable and unimportant they are. But Dunnett throws them in anyway, which just ends up clogging the narrative arteries with plaque so that you can’t even figure out who you’re supposed to be paying attention to and who you aren’t because there’s just too many to keep track of and eventually you just stop caring. Even the big characters feel barely sketched and peculiarly listless (one of my buddy-readers described them as “flattened under the weight of history” and I think that’s accurate). I have no sense of who Thorfinn IS as a person, and Groa only marginally more than that. And some of these people deserve not to be flattened! This is a historical period full of amazing, vibrant characters like Canute, Harald Hardrada, Malcolm Canmore, Lady Godiva, Lanfranc, William the Bastard, reforming pope Leo, future-amazing pope Gregory…the list could continue. But they are nothing, or less than nothing, here.
Lastly, I think I would be remiss not to mention the fact that this book’s genesis happened around an interesting theory that perhaps Earl Thorfinn of Orkney, and King Macbeth of Scotland, are the same person. The historian who came up with this theory was apparently quite taken with the idea that historical sources mentioning Thorfinn don’t mention Macbeth, and vice versa. Dunnett read this theory, was like WOWZER, and just ran with it. Good news everyone – sources which mention King Charles III of England don’t seem to mention me, and vice versa. I will accept your homage and fealty now. I’m not saying it doesn’t work, but there are places where Dunnett has to stretch pretty hard to fit known facts about one into working for the other. Case in point : Thorfinn had two sons, who ruled Orkney after him. Macbeth had no sons, just a stepson who caretaker-ruled for a couple months before Malcolm Canmore took over and had him killed. Dunnett’s Thorfinn-Macbeth names his two children to rule Orkney and Caithness, his stepson to rule Moray, and none of them to become king after him. The whole point of Dunnett’s Macbeth is to be this proto-king who turns Scotland into a Nation at the cost of his own life, or something, but he can’t be bothered to name a successor from among his adult children to prevent everything from going to hell after he dies and undoing all his work? He’s specifically called on this at one point by one of his churchmen and basically gives the equivalent of a shrug and a “it doesn’t matter it’ll sort itself out.” Like WTF?
Someday I’ll get around to reading Nigel Tranter’s version of Macbeth, and I bet that will be loads better (low bar, admittedly).
Many thanks to buddy readers Nastya, Roman Clodia, Melindam, and Alexandra, without whom I definitely would not have gotten through this. And I made a new friend out of it, so I guess it’s not a total loss!
Friends, I want to tell a story of three media franchises : Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and (to a lesser extent) Superman.
I loved the original trilogy of Star Wars. When The Phantom Menace came out, I was PSYCHED. This movie was amazing! And then there was this little exchange :
Panaka : Your Highness! Senator Palpatine has been nominated to succeed Valorum as Supreme Chancellor.
…
Amidala : Who else has been nominated?
Panaka : Bail Antilles of Alderaan, and Ainlee Teem of Malastare
Palpatine : I feel confident our situation will create a strong sympathy vote for us.
I analyzed that scene to death. I wrote an entire script for a documentary film on Palpatine’s rise to power, based on that miniscule exchange. Who ARE Bail Antilles and Ainlee Teem? What do they represent? Why were they nominated instead of others? Keep in mind at that point we knew nothing about them other than a picture in Wookiepedia, and their name drop in this movie. I might be the only person in the history of ever who thought (and still thinks) what Episode I was missing was MORE backroom politicking and Senate speechifying. I am older and wiser now, and while I would still happily have a lengthy debate about to what degree Ainlee Teem’s candidacy was propped up by Darth Sidious to siphon votes and make sure Palpatine got elected, I recognize that the movie was objectively terrible, and I projected a lot of my good feelings from the original trilogy onto it in order to arrive at the conclusion that it was also good. I have to feel like a lot of people who gave this 5* are projecting their love of either Lymond or Niccolo (or both, though I’ve found that people who enjoy both series seem to be kind of rare) onto this. The person who wrote those lovely books couldn’t possibly have written a clunker, right? George Lucas was responsible for Empire Strikes Back; he couldn’t possibly have directed a clunker like Episode I, right? (I know, ESB was actually Kasdan. Don’t @ me, it’s an analogy). Well…Episode I was a clunker. And so is King Hereafter.
Now, let’s talk about The Hobbit movies, and Superman II. The Hobbit was originally helmed by Guillermo del Toro, until abruptly the studio stepped in, cashiered him, and then basically blackmailed Peter Jackson into directing it, resulting in a whole lot of behind the scenes chaos that turned whatever it would have been into the garbled mess that got released. I don’t know to what extent the directorial change affected this, but one of the major problems is that the movies (especially the first one) can’t decide what they want to be. Are they an adaptation of a children’s book, with a light whimsical tone (think of the tossing plates scene, or the ridiculous barrel-riding in the river)? Or are they a spiritual prequel to Lord of the Rings, with all the grand themes and darker tone that conveys (think any of the white council scenes that got added, or Gandalf’s pursuit of the Necromancer)? The movies try to do it both ways, which results in some egregious whiplash where they ended up not doing either successfully. Pick a lane!
Superman II did this much more directly. Richard Donner filmed I and II together, conceiving them as kind of a single whole. Very serious in tone. Halfway through, Donner was replaced with the man who would eventually direct Superman III, Richard Lester. Lester was much more lighthearted and comical, and the resulting film is kind of a mishmashed mess. The fact that it was still reasonably well received I think is due to the fact that Donner had completed 75% of it before getting the axe (Side note : in this modern age, you can watch “Superman II : The Richard Donner Cut”, and I highly recommend that you do as that version is much superior to the theatrical one).
What I’m getting at here is that Dunnett appears to have suffered from a terminal case of two-director-itis here, and can’t make up her mind whether she’s telling historical fiction, or history, and as a result it doesn’t really succeed at either. Decent passages of story moving the plot forward are alternated with long stretches of completely bland history that do absolutely nothing except I guess show off the amount of family tree research she did before writing it? Take this, from early in part IV :
“The outlawed Archbishop of Canterbury made a successful appeal to the Pope, who at once denounced all those who had taken it upon themselves, without papal advice or authority, to outlaw an archbishop. He dispatched a legate to Winchester conveying his reproaches and anger, and excommunicated Stigand, the Bishop of Winchester, whom the King and Earl Godwin had appointed Archbishop of Canterbury in Robert’s place.
The appeased Archbishop of Canterbury left the Pope’s side and returned to await events in his former abbey of Jumieges, where, unhappily, he was taken ill and subsequently died. His land in England, together with that of Bishop Ulf’s, was divided between Harold, the eldest son of Earl Godwin, and his sister the Queen, who had been retrieved from her convent. Tostig, the brother of Harold and Edith, was not a beneficiary.”
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Oh sorry, where were we? I nodded off while you were reading that. I should also admit at this point I suppose that I nodded off while actually reading the book…more than once. And no, none of the people mentioned in that passage just now are relevant to the plot, and some of them I think were just now introduced, for no apparent reason I can detect.
The characters are flat and wooden, and in many, many cases are barely more than a throwaway name-drop with no color at all. Some guy accompanies Thorfinn to Rome and back, and is mentioned as following him around, but unless you’re really paying attention you wouldn’t realize that he was Thorfinn’s steward? Scribe? I think maybe he becomes a cleric of some sort at some point? Because he’s nothing but a name with no personality. Ditto that with Eachmarchach, or Otfel, or any of a number of other people whose names I can’t be bothered to remember to include on this list because that’s how forgettable and unimportant they are. But Dunnett throws them in anyway, which just ends up clogging the narrative arteries with plaque so that you can’t even figure out who you’re supposed to be paying attention to and who you aren’t because there’s just too many to keep track of and eventually you just stop caring. Even the big characters feel barely sketched and peculiarly listless (one of my buddy-readers described them as “flattened under the weight of history” and I think that’s accurate). I have no sense of who Thorfinn IS as a person, and Groa only marginally more than that. And some of these people deserve not to be flattened! This is a historical period full of amazing, vibrant characters like Canute, Harald Hardrada, Malcolm Canmore, Lady Godiva, Lanfranc, William the Bastard, reforming pope Leo, future-amazing pope Gregory…the list could continue. But they are nothing, or less than nothing, here.
Lastly, I think I would be remiss not to mention the fact that this book’s genesis happened around an interesting theory that perhaps Earl Thorfinn of Orkney, and King Macbeth of Scotland, are the same person. The historian who came up with this theory was apparently quite taken with the idea that historical sources mentioning Thorfinn don’t mention Macbeth, and vice versa. Dunnett read this theory, was like WOWZER, and just ran with it. Good news everyone – sources which mention King Charles III of England don’t seem to mention me, and vice versa. I will accept your homage and fealty now. I’m not saying it doesn’t work, but there are places where Dunnett has to stretch pretty hard to fit known facts about one into working for the other. Case in point : Thorfinn had two sons, who ruled Orkney after him. Macbeth had no sons, just a stepson who caretaker-ruled for a couple months before Malcolm Canmore took over and had him killed. Dunnett’s Thorfinn-Macbeth names his two children to rule Orkney and Caithness, his stepson to rule Moray, and none of them to become king after him. The whole point of Dunnett’s Macbeth is to be this proto-king who turns Scotland into a Nation at the cost of his own life, or something, but he can’t be bothered to name a successor from among his adult children to prevent everything from going to hell after he dies and undoing all his work? He’s specifically called on this at one point by one of his churchmen and basically gives the equivalent of a shrug and a “it doesn’t matter it’ll sort itself out.” Like WTF?
Someday I’ll get around to reading Nigel Tranter’s version of Macbeth, and I bet that will be loads better (low bar, admittedly).
Many thanks to buddy readers Nastya, Roman Clodia, Melindam, and Alexandra, without whom I definitely would not have gotten through this. And I made a new friend out of it, so I guess it’s not a total loss!
abandoned
January 10, 2019Abandoning this on page 190 (around chapter 20). This book is DENSE, and not in a good way. Dorothy Dunnett has done her research, so she knows exactly where every single political player in 11th-century Europe is. She spends most of her time moving people around, introducing characters, and explaining what each one of them is doing. My quarrel with the book is less that it's too dense, but that it's too dense in an unsatisfactory way. Because I don't think it's possible to hold the shifting alliances of the different parts of Scotland, England, Ireland, and Norway in your head (given each year they shift and Dunnett devotes max 10 pages to it), this means you're frequently a few steps behind our protagonist, Thorfinn, who then proceeds to educate everyone around him about it. This doesn't make it satisfying when an event happens or an alliance clicks - it just feels like another thing to remember.
Historical fiction can be dense without relating every single development that occurs in a large region, and should offer some insight into why each of the moves matter. The author doesn't have to wave a bright-yellow banner at you to tell you it matters - the subtlety of good writing makes the reader excited when they figure it out - but they do have to lead you, at some point, through their story, instead of simply relating historical events as they occur. I suppose a more dedicated reader who is more steeped in the family trees may find this exciting. I actually think it likely improves on each reread, but I don't think I'm willing to go there.
This mostly reminds me I need to get back to the third book in Undset's tetralogy!!
Historical fiction can be dense without relating every single development that occurs in a large region, and should offer some insight into why each of the moves matter. The author doesn't have to wave a bright-yellow banner at you to tell you it matters - the subtlety of good writing makes the reader excited when they figure it out - but they do have to lead you, at some point, through their story, instead of simply relating historical events as they occur. I suppose a more dedicated reader who is more steeped in the family trees may find this exciting. I actually think it likely improves on each reread, but I don't think I'm willing to go there.
This mostly reminds me I need to get back to the third book in Undset's tetralogy!!
February 25, 2015
What a complicated review this is to write. And it will be a super short one to boot!
I do not want to give this book two stars. The writing quality alone deserves five stars. But what else should I give a book that I have tried twice to read and have never gotten passed about 100 pages?
Something about the story and plot simply isn't engaging enough for me. It is kind of a boring story and when you have so many books you want to (willingly) read in your year, it is hard to keep focus on a book you feel you are reading against your will.
That it is long, is a little to blame. It is a huge commitment to keep reading a book that is boring you when it is around 800 pages of small type. Becomes more like unwanted homework than an enjoyable pastime.
I will not give up on it though. There was so much potential in King Hereafter that I intend on giving it a third reread at some stage. In case the story improves further in.
I own the book, so it is here, if I am ever in the mood.
Half my problem with enjoying the book may have something to do with the fact that I lost some of my lust for reading in 2014 and I am now, (in Feb 2015) only just getting it back.
This is not the time for wearing my brain away to a nub on a stagnating doorstopper.
I do not want to give this book two stars. The writing quality alone deserves five stars. But what else should I give a book that I have tried twice to read and have never gotten passed about 100 pages?
Something about the story and plot simply isn't engaging enough for me. It is kind of a boring story and when you have so many books you want to (willingly) read in your year, it is hard to keep focus on a book you feel you are reading against your will.
That it is long, is a little to blame. It is a huge commitment to keep reading a book that is boring you when it is around 800 pages of small type. Becomes more like unwanted homework than an enjoyable pastime.
I will not give up on it though. There was so much potential in King Hereafter that I intend on giving it a third reread at some stage. In case the story improves further in.
I own the book, so it is here, if I am ever in the mood.
Half my problem with enjoying the book may have something to do with the fact that I lost some of my lust for reading in 2014 and I am now, (in Feb 2015) only just getting it back.
This is not the time for wearing my brain away to a nub on a stagnating doorstopper.
March 20, 2020
I don't give too many book 5 stars, but this one deserves every one of them. I first read King Hereafter years ago, when it was originally published. Recently, when adventures in genealogy got me interested in this era, I remembered this book and got my hands on a new copy (as I'd gotten rid of my original all those years ago).
This is historical fiction at its best. The story and characters are great, and the research behind it is flawless. Too many times these days, publishers pass off poorly written books filled with anachronisms as "historical fiction" when they are nothing more than heavy-panting bodice rippers. Well, if that's the kind of story you're looking for, this is NOT the book for you. If, however, you want to immerse yourself in 11th century Scotland and want to know what the true MacBeth might have been like, grab this book!
One thing you'll discover is that Shakespeare had a habit of making villains out of non-villains. A case could be made that with Richard III, the groundwork had already been laid by the Tudor propagandists. In King Hereafter, you'll find that MacBeth and his Lady were not the scheming, murderous lot of the play.
This is historical fiction at its best. The story and characters are great, and the research behind it is flawless. Too many times these days, publishers pass off poorly written books filled with anachronisms as "historical fiction" when they are nothing more than heavy-panting bodice rippers. Well, if that's the kind of story you're looking for, this is NOT the book for you. If, however, you want to immerse yourself in 11th century Scotland and want to know what the true MacBeth might have been like, grab this book!
One thing you'll discover is that Shakespeare had a habit of making villains out of non-villains. A case could be made that with Richard III, the groundwork had already been laid by the Tudor propagandists. In King Hereafter, you'll find that MacBeth and his Lady were not the scheming, murderous lot of the play.
June 17, 2012
I have now read this book 3+ times, and I agree with Dorothy Dunnett that this is her master work. It is a difficult book to tackle. Like most of Dunnett's characters, you don't learn much directly about what her main characters are thinking. After an incredible amount of research, Dunnett became convinced that Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney and Caithness (a documented, real person), and MacBeth, King of Alba (another documented, real person), were, in fact, the same person. This book is about how Thorfinn became MacBeth and tried to make Alba more of a nation rather than a collection of groups. Dunnett weaves into the story the history of England, the machinations of the Pope and the Holy Roman Emporer, and the events in other countries which will shortly affect England as well, including mentioning at one point that the Bastard Duke William of Normandy was 10 years old.
The writing is dense and typically Dunnett. It is not a light read. The reader has to pay attention, and it is easier to understand on a second or third read than the first. But it is worth the effort.
The writing is dense and typically Dunnett. It is not a light read. The reader has to pay attention, and it is easier to understand on a second or third read than the first. But it is worth the effort.
August 1, 2012
A brilliant book. Hard to get into at first, even with being familiar with Dorothy's elliptical style, partly due to the unfamiliar 11C period. But well-worth the effort. My choice as my Desert Island Book (as I could not choose another Dunnett book without wanting the rest of the series as well).
March 7, 2020
I wrote down a few impressions, listed things that didn't sit well with me and deleted it all. I am too stupid to pass judgement on Dunnett's craft, but I'll say this about the main character she created: I would forfeit millions of lives today to gain one like Thorfinn.
September 18, 2007
A long but fascinating story about Macbeth which still lingers in my mind at the oddest moments. Haunting story.
April 19, 2012
Originally published on my blog here in March 1999.
Dorothy Dunnett's novel of Scotland in the Dark Ages concerns the historical Macbeth - or does it? She certainly knows more about the situation in eleventh century Scotland than Shakespeare did (Macbeth ruled just before the Norman conquest of England), but her plot relies on an identification between two historical characters. Macbeth, she assumes, was in fact the baptismal name of the Viking Earl of Orkney, Thorfinn II.In some ways, this works quite well: Macbeth is a likely candidate for a Gaelic baptismal name (it means "son of life"), though a saint's name might have been more likely; Thorfinn was descended from the kings of Scots and would have had at least as good a claim to the throne as the line which eventually established itself (both related to earlier kings through descent from daughters of Malcolm II); the interest in Orkney makes him plausibly involved in an attempt to unify Scotland, which provides an interesting political aspect to the novel; his Viking background paves the way for a clash of cultures, also of interest to the reader.
There are, however, arguments against the identification of Thorfinn and Macbeth, and the subsidiary identification of Ingeborg, Thorfinn's Norwegian wife, with Gruoch, more commonly known as Lady Macbeth (which is also done with the baptismal name device). The way the Scottish kingship generally worked at this time was that the succession alternated between groups of cousins, patrilineal descendants of Kenneth MacAlpine, who had originally united the kingdom. This system meant that minorities, the perilous rule of underage kings, was avoided, at the cost of making murder by a cousin the most likely way for a Scots king to die. Macbeth was one of the last kings to gain the throne in this manner; Malcolm III, who killed Macbeth, basically managed to stabilise the succession in his own descendants (barring short usurpations by Lulach - a relation of Gruoch's - and Donald I - Malcolm's brother). This was partly achieved because Malcolm held onto the throne for a considerable period, during which he killed most of the other potential candidates for the throne.
Now, both Macbeth and Gruoch are provided by the Scots chroniclers with lineages connecting them with the Scottish crown, which do not match with those existing for Thorfinn and Ingeborg. While it is clear that such lineages would be invented by usurpers to give them a claim to the throne (there are several instances of this in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, for example), the way that Dunnett has set things out in her book makes Thorfinn's main claim to the throne his mother's descent, while the chronicles imply that Macbeth's is his father's, whether real or spurious.
Another objection to this identification is that Macbeth is known to have died in 1057, while Thorfinn is thought to have lived rather longer, until about 1065 (though the exact date of his death is not known). I don't know what the evidence is for assuming the later date, but it is that given by Tapsell's Monarchs in the table listing the Earls of Orkney.
The methodology of an academic historian would require that an assumption such as the identification of the two men is not made without supporting evidence. The less you assume, the less you can get wrong. As a historical novelist, you can make any assumption you like which can help your story, so long as it is reasonably plausible. The assumption Dunnett makes here drives an interesting novel, though a very long one - Macbeth reigned for seventeen years after all, not the few months that is the impression left by Shakespeare.
Less acceptable is the way that Dunnett attempts to force Thorfinn/Macbeth into the mould of the heroes of her historical series, Lymond and Niccolo (both of whom are fictional characters). Thorfinn is made to have almost exactly the same characteristics as these heroes. The character may be fascinating, and equally something of a superhero, but the three men should certainly be different from each other.
Dorothy Dunnett's novel of Scotland in the Dark Ages concerns the historical Macbeth - or does it? She certainly knows more about the situation in eleventh century Scotland than Shakespeare did (Macbeth ruled just before the Norman conquest of England), but her plot relies on an identification between two historical characters. Macbeth, she assumes, was in fact the baptismal name of the Viking Earl of Orkney, Thorfinn II.In some ways, this works quite well: Macbeth is a likely candidate for a Gaelic baptismal name (it means "son of life"), though a saint's name might have been more likely; Thorfinn was descended from the kings of Scots and would have had at least as good a claim to the throne as the line which eventually established itself (both related to earlier kings through descent from daughters of Malcolm II); the interest in Orkney makes him plausibly involved in an attempt to unify Scotland, which provides an interesting political aspect to the novel; his Viking background paves the way for a clash of cultures, also of interest to the reader.
There are, however, arguments against the identification of Thorfinn and Macbeth, and the subsidiary identification of Ingeborg, Thorfinn's Norwegian wife, with Gruoch, more commonly known as Lady Macbeth (which is also done with the baptismal name device). The way the Scottish kingship generally worked at this time was that the succession alternated between groups of cousins, patrilineal descendants of Kenneth MacAlpine, who had originally united the kingdom. This system meant that minorities, the perilous rule of underage kings, was avoided, at the cost of making murder by a cousin the most likely way for a Scots king to die. Macbeth was one of the last kings to gain the throne in this manner; Malcolm III, who killed Macbeth, basically managed to stabilise the succession in his own descendants (barring short usurpations by Lulach - a relation of Gruoch's - and Donald I - Malcolm's brother). This was partly achieved because Malcolm held onto the throne for a considerable period, during which he killed most of the other potential candidates for the throne.
Now, both Macbeth and Gruoch are provided by the Scots chroniclers with lineages connecting them with the Scottish crown, which do not match with those existing for Thorfinn and Ingeborg. While it is clear that such lineages would be invented by usurpers to give them a claim to the throne (there are several instances of this in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, for example), the way that Dunnett has set things out in her book makes Thorfinn's main claim to the throne his mother's descent, while the chronicles imply that Macbeth's is his father's, whether real or spurious.
Another objection to this identification is that Macbeth is known to have died in 1057, while Thorfinn is thought to have lived rather longer, until about 1065 (though the exact date of his death is not known). I don't know what the evidence is for assuming the later date, but it is that given by Tapsell's Monarchs in the table listing the Earls of Orkney.
The methodology of an academic historian would require that an assumption such as the identification of the two men is not made without supporting evidence. The less you assume, the less you can get wrong. As a historical novelist, you can make any assumption you like which can help your story, so long as it is reasonably plausible. The assumption Dunnett makes here drives an interesting novel, though a very long one - Macbeth reigned for seventeen years after all, not the few months that is the impression left by Shakespeare.
Less acceptable is the way that Dunnett attempts to force Thorfinn/Macbeth into the mould of the heroes of her historical series, Lymond and Niccolo (both of whom are fictional characters). Thorfinn is made to have almost exactly the same characteristics as these heroes. The character may be fascinating, and equally something of a superhero, but the three men should certainly be different from each other.
October 27, 2011
Wow. So, that took a long time to finish. (Which is probably a big hint towards my feelings about "King Hereafter".) I waffled on my star-rating, because in the end this isn't a book I'd read again and I'll be careful with my recommendations. But at the same time, it's Dorothy Dunnett!! I love her! I've read both of her ginormous series and enjoyed them tons and tons and it's not like her writing took a sudden dive in this particular book.
It breaks down like this: On the plus side we have Dunnett's firm grasp of the historical period and the ability to translate it so completely I felt like I could not only smell the sea-salt air but also grasp why going Viking (ie: lots of pillaging) made for a good time. I greatly admire Dunnett's ability to make me, with my modern sensibilities, understand the mindset of people from a very different time-period. There was also Dunnett's familiar (and much loved by me) genius-Chess-player protagonist. So I started out a happy little reader. Then the negatives started.
A large weight on the negative-side is that this is an actual historical figure she's writing about. And he's a king. Not being a behind-the-scenes guy, our protag has to know everything that's occurring on the world-stage he's playing on. So the narrative would screech to a halt so we could get a breakdown of what all the various power-players in all the various countries were up to at that particular place in time. Which made it very easy for me to put the book down and not very eager to pick it back up again.
But I could have hand-waved that as a necessary evil in a shorter story (relatively, if you consider her two series) covering a long time period. What got me worried about midway through (and the end unfortunately bore it out), was the lack of a powerful antagonist. Dunnett's two series both pitted her incredibly gifted protagonists against equally powerful opponents and that's what kept the stories compelling. But in this case, no one really challenges our hero. Well, other than, you know, life. But that doesn't really make for killer epics. And, I would argue, doesn't work if you've set up a heroic protagonist like Dunnett does in this book.
This is where I totally spoil the ending. STOP NOW TO AVOID SPOILERS!!!
In the end, we had this genius character trying to carve out a niche of civilization in a hostile and volatile world and he's supported by this vast cast of characters (too vast, actually -- I couldn't keep track of most of them and so the various friendships felt kind of pasted on, even when the text was telling me that no seriously this is an incredibly deep friendship) and I watch him swat at flies, swat at flies, swat at flies and then... nothing. He dies. It ends. I think there were hints that our hero's work wasn't totally in vain, but the hints were small enough and the work I'd put into finishing the damn book was hard enough that I felt disgruntled.
So, I didn't like it but could see how others might. Now I have to figure out what to read next. *sigh* Probably be best to reread something I know for sure I'll enjoy.
It breaks down like this: On the plus side we have Dunnett's firm grasp of the historical period and the ability to translate it so completely I felt like I could not only smell the sea-salt air but also grasp why going Viking (ie: lots of pillaging) made for a good time. I greatly admire Dunnett's ability to make me, with my modern sensibilities, understand the mindset of people from a very different time-period. There was also Dunnett's familiar (and much loved by me) genius-Chess-player protagonist. So I started out a happy little reader. Then the negatives started.
A large weight on the negative-side is that this is an actual historical figure she's writing about. And he's a king. Not being a behind-the-scenes guy, our protag has to know everything that's occurring on the world-stage he's playing on. So the narrative would screech to a halt so we could get a breakdown of what all the various power-players in all the various countries were up to at that particular place in time. Which made it very easy for me to put the book down and not very eager to pick it back up again.
But I could have hand-waved that as a necessary evil in a shorter story (relatively, if you consider her two series) covering a long time period. What got me worried about midway through (and the end unfortunately bore it out), was the lack of a powerful antagonist. Dunnett's two series both pitted her incredibly gifted protagonists against equally powerful opponents and that's what kept the stories compelling. But in this case, no one really challenges our hero. Well, other than, you know, life. But that doesn't really make for killer epics. And, I would argue, doesn't work if you've set up a heroic protagonist like Dunnett does in this book.
This is where I totally spoil the ending. STOP NOW TO AVOID SPOILERS!!!
In the end, we had this genius character trying to carve out a niche of civilization in a hostile and volatile world and he's supported by this vast cast of characters (too vast, actually -- I couldn't keep track of most of them and so the various friendships felt kind of pasted on, even when the text was telling me that no seriously this is an incredibly deep friendship) and I watch him swat at flies, swat at flies, swat at flies and then... nothing. He dies. It ends. I think there were hints that our hero's work wasn't totally in vain, but the hints were small enough and the work I'd put into finishing the damn book was hard enough that I felt disgruntled.
So, I didn't like it but could see how others might. Now I have to figure out what to read next. *sigh* Probably be best to reread something I know for sure I'll enjoy.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 7, 2011
King Hereafter
This book qualifies as Advanced Reading. Although each sentence is a work of art, and the construction of the novel is masterful, it’s not a tale you just gallop through. Rather, it must be read like some poetry, by immersing yourself into the words and images and allowing them to create an experience that engages your mind on more than one level. For 720 densely packed pages in the oversize paperback edition.
There’s also an enormous cast of characters who move all over northern and western Europe. Thankfully, family trees and maps are provided to help you keep track—which is critical, because the entire story is about political intrigue as friends and relatives switch back and forth between foe and ally, and armies sweep back and forth across countryside and the seas.
The common thread is Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney, a.k.a. Macbeth, known to most of us only as a character in a famous play by Shakespeare. Author Dorothy Dunnett puts her own spin on his story, drawing from the incomplete and conflicting historical record to create the credible biography of a great king who tried to unite warring factions into what ultimately became Scotland, during the late 10th and early 11th centuries when Christianity intruded as a strong player in pagan lands.
Like most historical epics, this novel forms a crash course in the history of the time, place, and people, and includes episodes of pathos and humor and romance among battles of blood and glory. I worked harder at reading it than I have any other novel, and by the end was glad I had not given up (as I was often tempted to do). Macbeth and his wife will linger in my memory much longer than most characters I encounter in easier novels. And I now understand much more about my ancestors, as well as world history, than I ever did before.
Recommended for serious readers only.
This book qualifies as Advanced Reading. Although each sentence is a work of art, and the construction of the novel is masterful, it’s not a tale you just gallop through. Rather, it must be read like some poetry, by immersing yourself into the words and images and allowing them to create an experience that engages your mind on more than one level. For 720 densely packed pages in the oversize paperback edition.
There’s also an enormous cast of characters who move all over northern and western Europe. Thankfully, family trees and maps are provided to help you keep track—which is critical, because the entire story is about political intrigue as friends and relatives switch back and forth between foe and ally, and armies sweep back and forth across countryside and the seas.
The common thread is Thorfinn, Earl of Orkney, a.k.a. Macbeth, known to most of us only as a character in a famous play by Shakespeare. Author Dorothy Dunnett puts her own spin on his story, drawing from the incomplete and conflicting historical record to create the credible biography of a great king who tried to unite warring factions into what ultimately became Scotland, during the late 10th and early 11th centuries when Christianity intruded as a strong player in pagan lands.
Like most historical epics, this novel forms a crash course in the history of the time, place, and people, and includes episodes of pathos and humor and romance among battles of blood and glory. I worked harder at reading it than I have any other novel, and by the end was glad I had not given up (as I was often tempted to do). Macbeth and his wife will linger in my memory much longer than most characters I encounter in easier novels. And I now understand much more about my ancestors, as well as world history, than I ever did before.
Recommended for serious readers only.
December 7, 2011
I actually read all Dorothy Dunnett's historical fiction this fall, rereading in the case of the Lymond series, but this is the only stand alone book. It's definitely my sort of thing. There's a part where it dissolves into a thousand similar names and places, and when the going gets tough, the characters get cryptic, but I just read on until the story revealed what was bothering them.
The Lymond books put romantic adventurous characters in a wonderful and vivid historical background, but in the later Niccolo series it was the history that provided the compelling questions and the characters' doings were a vehicle to get the various collapsing kingdoms and trading empires into the picture. But King Hereafter does both, and makes the magic element more sympathetic.
The quotes from Shakespeare's Macbeth are surprisingly poignant, and though this Macbeth is pretty completely different from the play, the book ends with as much impact, which also surprised me to tears. Definitely my kind of thing.
The Lymond books put romantic adventurous characters in a wonderful and vivid historical background, but in the later Niccolo series it was the history that provided the compelling questions and the characters' doings were a vehicle to get the various collapsing kingdoms and trading empires into the picture. But King Hereafter does both, and makes the magic element more sympathetic.
The quotes from Shakespeare's Macbeth are surprisingly poignant, and though this Macbeth is pretty completely different from the play, the book ends with as much impact, which also surprised me to tears. Definitely my kind of thing.
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