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I was trying to decide what the appropriate thing to read on a walking holiday in Scotland would be and picked The Game of Kings off the shelf to flip through the first couple of chapters while I thought about it. Inevitably, this led to deciding that obviously, Dunnett is the right thing to read while on holiday in Scotland, and re-reading an old favourite might be a good thing given how exhausted I was likely to be in the evenings of a long-distance walk, so I might as well just re-read it properly.

Reading The Game of Kings for a second time, knowing how the plot of the novel and of the whole Lymond series will work out, is a very differente experience to reading it for the first time. I spent at least the first third of the book utterly bemused first time round, though I was intrigued enough by the characters to want to persevere and eventually the shape of the plot became clear; this time, I knew where the narrative was going and could appreciate the way Dunnett sets things up at the start of the book with a throwaway line, only for them to become deeply significant several hundred pages later on, as well as the way she constructs Lymond's character entirely from the (biased and usually just plain wrong) viewpoints of the people around him and still manages to gain a certain amount of sympathy for him alongside the urge to slap him with a codfish. I enjoyed some of the set-pieces, such as the duel scene, more for being able to read them at leisure rather than just wanting to get on and find out what was going on, though oddly I found the final dénouement, with its series of revelations which cast everything in a different light, less successful when I knew what was coming. Or maybe it's just that, having now read all of the Lymond and Niccolò books, re-reading The Game of Kings it's more obvious that it was Dunnett's first book and, for all its artistry, it doesn't live up to the accomplishment of her later works.

King Hereafter is Dorothy Dunnett's standalone novel about the historical Macbeth, or at least, given the paucity of actual evidence remaining, a possible version of him. Dunnett's story takes as its central premise the idea that King Macbeth of Scotland and Earl Thorfinn the Mighty of Orkney and Caithness were one and the same person, on the basis of the fact that historical sources mention one or the other but never both. About the only points of similarity with Shakespeare's Macbeth are the fact that Thorfinn/Macbeth becomes king after killing King Duncan (though in battle, in the context of a backdrop of wars and skirmishes and power being held by right of conquest across Europe, and not by murder) and that he is deposed in turn by Duncan's son Malcolm. Apart from this, Dunnett's story is the story of a man who is cleverer and clearer-sighted than most and who tries to use his talents to unify a fragmented country and begin the process of bringing civilisation and stability to a population of isolated subsistence farmers.

It's an incredibly dense book, managing to pack events spanning forty years of meticulously researched history into just over 700 pages, while in typical Dunnettian fashion apparently throwaway lines turn out to have plot consequences hundreds of pages later. Like Nicola Griffiths in Hild, Dunnett paints a fascinating picture of the pre-Norman Conquest British Isles as a much more cosmopolitan, multicultural society than the standard view of history I remember from school, and although this is definitely a society of men the female characters, mothers and wives of kings and earls, are not without agency or even some power, despite the circumscribed lives they are compelled to live.

It wasn't an easy read, even by Dunnett's standards; as well as the denseness of the background and the plotting, and the need to keep a huge number of characters straight in my head, the conclusion is definitely a tragic one. Still, it was a terrific read and I enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed any of her other books.

I wouldn't recommend reading the ebook, though; I started off with it but swapped to my paperback copy after about the first hundred pages as the ebook had so many errors.

Crossposts: https://white-hart.livejournal.com/859352.html

In the final book in Dorothy Dunnett's House of Niccolò series, Nicholas de Fleury returns to Scotland to try to make amends for the damage caused by his earlier actions and to safeguard his family from the enemies who have tried to kill both him and them so many times. For a while, I thought that Gemini was going to be a bit of an anticlimax to the series; several plot threads were resolved at the end of Caprice and Rondo, and Gemini is almost entirely set in Scotland, lacking the exotic locations of the earlier books. Nicholas has also changed and grown, and in Gemini is tackling the task of learning to care for people, and not just for the outcomes of his schemes. However, after a slow start, the novel gathers pace and the psychological drama is more than a match for the drama of any of Dunnett's other novels; there were just as many twists and edge-of-the-seat moments, and I found it just as hard to put down. It's a fitting end to the series, and like the ending of Checkmate leaves me wanting to go back and re-read key moments from earlier in the series in the light of the final revelations.

Fittingly, having started reading The Game of Kings on my 40th-birthday trip to Scotland, because I wanted to read something set in Scotland while I was there, I read Gemini while on holiday in Scotland once again. Three and a bit years, 14 books, at least 7,000 pages and an amazing sweep of European and Middle Eastern history in the early modern and late Middle Ages later, I can safely say that it has been one of the most intense reading experiences I've ever had. I can't actually remember who it was who made Dunnett sound intriguing enough for me to give her a try (I suspect it may have been a gestalt entity of friends and acquaintances), but it's been incredible, and in many ways I'm sorry to have come to the end. (I do still have King Hereafter to read, and will probably give the Johnson Johnson novels a try at least, but neither is going to be the same.)

Crossposts: https://white-hart.livejournal.com/841311.html

I spent my weekend staving off depression by immersing myself Caprice and Rondo, the seventh of Dorothy Dunnett's eight House of Niccolò novels, and only took until today to finish it because Scales of Gold scared me off sitting up late to finish Dorothy Dunnett novels and I forced myself to put it down at 81% complete on Sunday and 90% yesterday. I'm not completely sure that Dunnett-immersion is really a good long-term antidepressant, but in the short term it seems to have worked and I am feeling a bit better now anyway.

This volume takes Nicholas from Poland to Persia, via the Crimea, and then finally back to Bruges via a sojourn in Russia which echoes The Ringed Castle. Cut off from his friends and colleagues by the revelations that ended To Lie With Lions, he originally seems bent on self-destruction, but the events of this book build on his experiences in the desert and Iceland until, by the end, it truly feels as though he has grown up and is ready to begin building a life with roots, rather than seeing everything as a game to be played and won. The plot is typically twisty and compelling, the characters flawed and human and so very real, and I think I'm finally starting to understand why some people prefer the Niccolò books to the Lymond Chronicles. (I may even end up that way myself, although I might also just start re-reading Lymond and fall for him all over again.)

Caprice and Rondo resolves enough of the series' many subplots that I had a definite feel of approaching the end of the series; although it leaves some major plot threads unresolved, it felt as if enough had been tied up that the series could almost have ended there, and I do wonder if that was deliberate - Dunnett was 74 when it was published, and although she did manage to complete Gemini and publish it the year before she died, if this had been the last book it wouldn't have been an entirely unsatisfactory ending in the way ending with any of the previous three books would have.

Crossposts: http://white-hart.livejournal.com/837389.html

The sixth of Dorothy Dunnett's House of Niccolò books brings to a conclusion the phase of Nicholas's life sparked by the devastating events of the ending of Scales of Gold. In many ways it felt as though this and The Unicorn Hunt were two halves of one very long book rather than two separate instalments of the series, which I think probably partly explains why I felt that The Unicorn Hunt's plot seemed to meander rather if it was mainly setup for the next book. I feel similarly about The Disorderly Knights and Pawn in Frankincense in the Lymond series, and although the ending of To Lie With Lions isn't quite as cataclysmic as the end of Pawn in Frankincense, or indeed Scales of Gold, it leaves Nicholas in a similar place to Lymond at the end of that book; isolated, friendless and being taken to an unknown destination.

The centrepiece of this book is Nicholas's voyage to Iceland, culminating in a haunting, nightmarish winter journey across country in the face of an imminent volcanic eruption, and a subsequent description of the eruption itself, which are definitely up with the Sahara journey in Scales of Gold and the winter journey in Russia in The Ringed Castle among the most amazing of Dunnett's descriptive passages. The novel then gathers pace and ramps up the tension towards the dénouement, which does the typical Dunnett thing of shining a new light on so many things and radically changing the reader's understanding of both Nicholas's and other characters' natures and motivations, and even if I had guessed the identity of "Egidius", the third Vatachino partner (mostly because Pat McIntosh's Gilbert Cunningham mysteries include a character with the same first name and nickname as the "Egidius" in Dunnett's books, almost certainly as a tribute to Dunnett) there were still plenty of surprises among the revelations.

Only two more to go, although then I'm sure that both the Lymond and Niccolò books would benefit from a re-read; there's so much in them that only makes sense once you have got to the end. Also, I have just bought a secondhand copy of King Hereafter, as it isn't available for Kindle. Though right now I think I need to read something a lot less emotionally demanding for a while.

Crossposts: http://white-hart.livejournal.com/834447.html

The fifth in Dorothy Dunnett's House of Niccolo series see Nicholas travelling to Scotland, the Tyrol and Egypt, dealing with the fallout from the events of the last few pages of Scales of Gold and pursuing feuds old and new. Like all of Dunnett's books, this is full of wonderful evocations of travel; it made me long to see the eastern Mediterrean and the Middle East for myself (and also reflect on the parallels between the rise of the Ottoman Empire in the late fifteenth century and the risk of Isis now). Plot-wise, it seemed to meander rather, with Nicholas and his companions pursuing an ill-defined quest, or possibly one only really understood by Nicholas and which, as readers, we haven't yet been given enough information to understand; I rather suspect that this book will make a lot more sense in the light of the last three books which I have yet to read. Character-wise, it's a delight; Nicholas himself is closed off and forbidding for at least the first half of the book (I think one difference between him and Lymond is that when Lymond appears to be behaving like a complete arse it's normally because he is following a complicated plan but still trying to do the right thing really. Nicholas is often doing it because he is actually not a nice person and doesn't want to do the right thing), but his colleagues and companions continue to grow and develop their personalities, and I particularly liked how many strong and powerful female characters there were.

I'm still not sure I really understand where Nicholas's story is going, but I'm definitely enjoying the ride.

Crossposts: http://white-hart.livejournal.com/828111.html

The fourth of Dorothy Dunnett's House of Niccolo books takes the eponymous hero to Africa after the security of his business is threatened by a run on his capital instigated partly by his long-standing enemy Simon and partly by the shadowy Vatachino company. In search of the legendary gold-mines of Guinea and an overland route to the perhaps equally legendary Christian kingdom of Prester John in Ethiopia, after a difficult and dangerous journey he comes instead to Timbuktu*, ancient capital of learning and trade in a prosperous, mainly peaceful pre-colonial sub-Saharan Africa.

This was my favourite of the Niccolo books so far, and the first one I loved as much as I loved the Lymond series. Having recently read HMS Surprise, I really enjoyed the description of the voyage from Portugal to the Gambia in an age when Europeans had only recently discovered that Africa extended further south than Cape Bojador, slightly south of the latitude of the Canaries and for many years assumed to be the literal end of the world. I loved the depiction of fifteenth-century Africa as no less civilised than Europe, just different (and with surprisingly good communication links for the era), and Nicholas's perilous and uncertain journeys were utterly compelling reading. I found myself reading while walking down the street because I couldn't bear to put my Kindle down on more than one occasion.

( Slightly spoilery for the end of the book. )

* I may have found myself at one point pondering whether it was possible to cast the party who make it to Timbuktu with the cast of Cabin Pressure, who of course never do get to Timbuktu. The description of Nicholas does make him sound rather like John Finnemore, and he certainly affects an Arthur Shappey-esque innocence on occasion.

Crossposts: http://white-hart.livejournal.com/821199.html

I'm still reading Dorothy Dunnett when I want comfort reading; not that her books are entirely comforting in themselves, given her penchant for throwing her heroes into one dire situation after another and piling misfortune on misfortune, but they're books I can lose myself in, and that's what I wanted this week. In the third book of the House of Niccolo series, Nicholas ends up in Cyprus, where both claimants to the disputed throne want him and his army to fight for them. There are battles and twists and romance; some plot threads from the earlier books are resolved, while others emerge.

I do feel as though I'm starting to get a bit of a handle on Nicholas's character, which I struggled with in the first couple of books. Even though long sections of the narrative are written from his point of view, unlike Lymond, where we only get a handful of scenes from Francis's point of view throughout the series, and those tend to be solitary action rather than introspection, I've found him harder to understand; perhaps because the amount of point-of-view time he gets is deceptive, and there's a lot of crucial stuff we don't see. With Lymond, the overarching mystery always seemed to be what had happened in the past to make him the way he was, but with Nicholas, I think it's more about what kind of a person he really is.

Crossposts: http://white-hart.livejournal.com/808771.html

The second of Dorothy Dunnett's House of Niccolo books takes her hero (now definitely Nicholas, rather than Claes, and leader rather than apprentice) on a trading mission to Trebizond in 1461. Having looked up Trebizond when I read The Towers of Trebizond, I knew from the start that this wasn't likely to be an entirely uneventful trip, as indeed it wasn't, featuring Dunnett's trademark twisting plots; sequences that had me turning the pages, unable to put the book down until I found out how Nicholas and his comrades would get out of the latest tight spot; and other sequences where her hero's dazzling audacity pulls off feats that are simultaneously amazing and hilarious. I think I must be getting used to Dunnett, though, as while I couldn't have begun to guess at how most of the plot twists would unravel, there is one unwelcome final turn I saw coming a long way off.

Having started to unravel the enigma that is Nicholas in the first book, this one gave a bit more insight into his own thought processes. Certainly more than we ever get of Lymond, though I do love the way the Lymond Chronicles pretty much never show scenes from Lymond's point of view; saying that, I'm not sure how trustworthy Nicholas is as a viewpoint character. Several supporting characters also return and are further developed, and I felt that the cast of this series were really starting to come alive. Also, it reminded me how much I love Dunnett's women, who manage to be tough and independent while never feeling as though they are modern characters dressed up in historical costumes.

I'm definitely warming to the series after being a bit lukewarm on the first book, and look forward to moving on to the next one soon.

Crossposts: http://white-hart.livejournal.com/805296.html

I decided that what I needed was a comfort read, by which I don't mean fluff. I don't find fluff particularly comforting; it doesn't occupy enough of my brain to drive away the fear and anxiety. What I want in a comfort read is something engaging and entertaining, with vividly drawn characters and a plot that catches my interest. What I really wanted was another Lymond book, but having read the last one a few months ago I decided to start on Dunnett's House of Niccolo sequence instead.

Niccolo Rising is a slower burner than The Game of Kings, and Nicholas, when we first meet him as the large, clumsy, cheerful apprentice Claes, is less immediately attractive than Lymond, althogh it quickly becomes clear that there is a great deal more to him than meets the eye, and his cheerful approach to life is a nice change from Lymond's epic manpain. The large supporting cast includes a number of interesting and likeable characters (I particularly like Marian de Charetty) as well as a few interesting and definitely unlikeable ones and some who are just interesting and ambiguous. I enjoyed the setting, and having discovered a previously unsuspected fascination with trade history while reading The Ringed Castle I loved the setting and the background detail of the world of 15th-century merchants and bankers. The plot doesn't seem to twist and turn as much as the Lymond plots do, but I think that may actually be deceptive as the last fifty pages or so turn quite a lot of things on their heads.

I think the main difference to The Game of Kings is that that is a book that can stand on its own, presumably because when Dunnett wrote it she had no idea whether it could be published, let alone that it would be the start of a series, whereas by the time she came to Niccolo she was an established author, and Niccolo Rising very definitely feels like the first act of a much longer story. I'm looking forward to reading the others, in time, and I suspect that I'll like the Claes of the first book better when I know more of the later Nicholas.