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Song for the Basilisk
As a child, Rook had been taken in by the bards of Luly, and raised as one of their own. Of his past he knew nothing -- except faint memories of fire and death that he'd do anything to forget. But nightmares, and a new threat to the island that had become his own, would not let him escape the dreaded fate of his true family. Haunted by the music of the bards, he left the only home he knew to wander the land of the power-hungry basilisk who had destroyed his family. And perhaps, finally, to find a future in the fulfillment of his forgotten destiny.
320 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published September 1, 1998
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2955 people want to read
About the author
Patricia A. McKillip
98 books2,850 followersPatricia Anne McKillip was an American author of fantasy and science fiction. She wrote predominantly standalone fantasy novels and has been called "one of the most accomplished prose stylists in the fantasy genre". Her work won many awards, including the World Fantasy Award for Lifetime Achievement in 2008.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 189 reviews
May 6, 2019
I will read anything by McKillip. ANYTHING. Her tales are so unique and her prose is simply stunning. <3
January 18, 2021
4+ stars, more than 4, somewhat less than 5.
This was a rich fantasy world, riding the line between history and myth. McKillip's writing revealed a dreamy world, where music has incredible power if you know how to use it and people wield unusual powers.
The villain of the piece, the Basilisk of the title, is a man whose ruthlessness is on display. Like the creature on his crest, he can turn people to stone with his gaze and spit poison at his enemies. One of his daughters has studied beside him in his lab and shares these abilities.
How can a mere musician stand up to such a power? He can visit the hinterlands, learning the power of various instruments and songs. He can regain his blocked memories and return to the city where it all began.
If you are a fan of writers like Guy Gavriel Kay, Charles de Lint, or Robin Hobb, I suspect that you will also like McKillip. They all share that blend of magical fantasy and medieval settings that I am personally addicted to.
Book number 394 of my Science Fiction & Fantasy Reading Project.
Cross posted at my blog:
https://wanda-thenextfifty.blogspot.c...
This was a rich fantasy world, riding the line between history and myth. McKillip's writing revealed a dreamy world, where music has incredible power if you know how to use it and people wield unusual powers.
The villain of the piece, the Basilisk of the title, is a man whose ruthlessness is on display. Like the creature on his crest, he can turn people to stone with his gaze and spit poison at his enemies. One of his daughters has studied beside him in his lab and shares these abilities.
How can a mere musician stand up to such a power? He can visit the hinterlands, learning the power of various instruments and songs. He can regain his blocked memories and return to the city where it all began.
If you are a fan of writers like Guy Gavriel Kay, Charles de Lint, or Robin Hobb, I suspect that you will also like McKillip. They all share that blend of magical fantasy and medieval settings that I am personally addicted to.
Book number 394 of my Science Fiction & Fantasy Reading Project.
Cross posted at my blog:
https://wanda-thenextfifty.blogspot.c...
August 29, 2014
[9/10] I've just finished Song for the Basilisk by Patricia McKillip and I would rate it very high, even compared with other books by the same favorite author of mine. It shows better control of plot, inspired from the Grand Opera style of the 19th Century, beautiful and evocative language, strong characters and a spectacular finale.
I have found some similarities in this story with Guy Gavriel Kay's Tigana, but each books stands on its own merits. While I rate Kay very high in my preferences, between Tigana and Basilisk I am inclined to prefer the second. Both are very emotional books, but McKillip shows a more subtle control of pathos and plot.
One of the reasons I like McKillip books is that they manage to be different from one another, while maintaining her signature style. In the Forrest of Serre was a fairytale, Ombria in Shadow was gothic, The Riddlemaster of Hed was big and epic, Song for the Basilisk is like an opera libretto, Winter Rose was romance.
Another attraction for me is McKillip approach to magic: we don't have here the mechanical rigid rules or the fortuitous snapping of fingers when in need, not even the years of apprenticeship and/or memorizing of scrolls. Magic remains mysterious, hidden, barely controlable and very, very dangerous on the practitioner.
a final mention on Song for the Basilisk : McKillip shows a fine touch for humor here, something that was less evident in other books I've read of hers.
[edit] I learned to use brackets, hopefully.
I have found some similarities in this story with Guy Gavriel Kay's Tigana, but each books stands on its own merits. While I rate Kay very high in my preferences, between Tigana and Basilisk I am inclined to prefer the second. Both are very emotional books, but McKillip shows a more subtle control of pathos and plot.
One of the reasons I like McKillip books is that they manage to be different from one another, while maintaining her signature style. In the Forrest of Serre was a fairytale, Ombria in Shadow was gothic, The Riddlemaster of Hed was big and epic, Song for the Basilisk is like an opera libretto, Winter Rose was romance.
Another attraction for me is McKillip approach to magic: we don't have here the mechanical rigid rules or the fortuitous snapping of fingers when in need, not even the years of apprenticeship and/or memorizing of scrolls. Magic remains mysterious, hidden, barely controlable and very, very dangerous on the practitioner.
a final mention on Song for the Basilisk : McKillip shows a fine touch for humor here, something that was less evident in other books I've read of hers.
[edit] I learned to use brackets, hopefully.
July 20, 2021
Wow.
Just - wow.
This is lovely and lyrical and - is it a spoiler to say it’s unexpected? I was surprised. And haunted. And delighted.
I don’t have much to say beyond “I loved this”, though I do want to go out on a limb and say that the tone of this, the way it goes from almost unconvinced of its own reality (it’s really clever writing, that, and it’s classic McKillip mastery, too: eerie and just off-kilter and beautifully written and balanced) to telling a more plot-focused story almost makes this feel like a coming-of-age story, despite the ages of the characters and the focus of the story which belie that.
This is also a standalone. Really, I’m half-convinced McKillip wrote this just for me.
Just - wow.
This is lovely and lyrical and - is it a spoiler to say it’s unexpected? I was surprised. And haunted. And delighted.
I don’t have much to say beyond “I loved this”, though I do want to go out on a limb and say that the tone of this, the way it goes from almost unconvinced of its own reality (it’s really clever writing, that, and it’s classic McKillip mastery, too: eerie and just off-kilter and beautifully written and balanced) to telling a more plot-focused story almost makes this feel like a coming-of-age story, despite the ages of the characters and the focus of the story which belie that.
This is also a standalone. Really, I’m half-convinced McKillip wrote this just for me.
September 29, 2013
Wow. It is rare to read a book that verges on "perfect" – but more often than not, that book will be one by McKillip. "Song for the Basilisk" is definitely one of her best. In a pseudo-Renaissance setting, rivalry flares into violence, and House Berylon, whose symbol is the basilisk, overthrows and slaughters House Tormalyne, whose symbol is the griffin. However, unbeknownst to the Basilisk, the heir to House Tormalyne survives. His relatives find him, and secretly send the boy to a remote island music school, renaming him Caladrius, "the bird whose song means death." Traumatized by his experience, the boy does not remember his heritage, and grows up with no desire to leave the island. He finds love, and has a son. But when, after years, both woman and son grow restless with his stay-at-home ways, and leave for the mainland, he begins to remember that he is Griffin Tormalyne... and destiny (or a desire simply for revenge) draws him back to House Berylon, where he finds a place as a music librarian, cataloguing the items stolen from Tormalyne. His son also finds himself there... and the musician and teacher Giulia begins to suspect there is more to these people than she might have guessed, as plots and intimations of revolution begin to swirl...
McKillip's writing is deeply symbolic and poetically beautiful, but always readable and also not without humor.
McKillip's writing is deeply symbolic and poetically beautiful, but always readable and also not without humor.
March 1, 2016
I’ve mentioned before that I had a somewhat difficult time getting into Patricia McKillip’s books, and Song for the Basilisk is definitely one of the more difficult ones, in my opinion. I wouldn’t suggest starting with it. It contains many characteristics that the other books share — Ombria in Shadow, the tyrant ruling the city; The Bards of Bone Plain, the bards of Luly; the lyrical, reflective prose. I have to be in the right mood to read McKillip’s books, I think: The Changeling Sea was the gateway for me, where I really learnt to appreciate her work.
Song for the Basilisk is rather more abstruse than that one, though it is — as you might expect if you like McKillip’s work — beautiful and entirely worth spending the time with, at least by my lights. Somebody wrote a review which makes a comparison between this and Guy Gavriel Kay’s Tigana, and that’s apt: there are similar themes and even images. I disagree that Song for the Basilisk goes deeper than Tigana, though: they’re different in that in Basilisk the vendetta is more targeted and personal, against a single family, rather than erasing the culture and identity of a whole people. Your response may vary depending on personal taste and experience, but for me the denial of Tigana as a wellspring for identity hits pretty hard — harder than “tyrant hated powerful family because power”, which is more what I got from Basilisk.
Some things about this book I was unsure about: I’m used to feeling some ambivalence about McKillip’s characters, but Luna Pellior threw me for a loop. I was sort of expecting the ending, but I find it difficult to connect the dots. There’s a kind of opaqueness about the book, about Luna, that made it difficult to see things from her perspective — or anyone’s. I felt like more of an observer than a participant.
If you already know what you’re getting into with McKillip’s work, I don’t think this will disappoint. It wouldn’t be my choice of starting point, though.
Originally posted here.
Song for the Basilisk is rather more abstruse than that one, though it is — as you might expect if you like McKillip’s work — beautiful and entirely worth spending the time with, at least by my lights. Somebody wrote a review which makes a comparison between this and Guy Gavriel Kay’s Tigana, and that’s apt: there are similar themes and even images. I disagree that Song for the Basilisk goes deeper than Tigana, though: they’re different in that in Basilisk the vendetta is more targeted and personal, against a single family, rather than erasing the culture and identity of a whole people. Your response may vary depending on personal taste and experience, but for me the denial of Tigana as a wellspring for identity hits pretty hard — harder than “tyrant hated powerful family because power”, which is more what I got from Basilisk.
Some things about this book I was unsure about: I’m used to feeling some ambivalence about McKillip’s characters, but Luna Pellior threw me for a loop. I was sort of expecting the ending, but I find it difficult to connect the dots. There’s a kind of opaqueness about the book, about Luna, that made it difficult to see things from her perspective — or anyone’s. I felt like more of an observer than a participant.
If you already know what you’re getting into with McKillip’s work, I don’t think this will disappoint. It wouldn’t be my choice of starting point, though.
Originally posted here.
January 3, 2019
I guess I'm in the minority here but I did not like this book. It's super boring. It takes nearly half the book before anything even starts to happen with the plot. The writing style just drags and there's way too many descriptions of things written like the author is trying to be poetic. For me, the book reads like some boring "high literature" book that you might have been forced to read in college.
February 5, 2009
This book was simply perfect. Probably the best “high” fantasy book I’ve read. McKillip writes novels that happen to have fantasy elements, so the writing—metaphors, descriptions, etc.—isn’t easy but mostly wonderful. She also doesn’t utilize the conventions of the genre, unless it is to turn them on their heads, or explode them altogether.
The Basilisk of the title is Arioso Pellior, who took power over the land by crushing the other ruling houses, especially the Tormalyne—only one child escaped. He takes the name Rook on the island of the Bards. You think you know what comes next—young man goes to seek revenge, blah, blah. Nope, he marries, has a son, and all of a sudden we’re fourteen years in the future. Eventually Rook decides he must travel to the main city—there he finds a musician who plays the one-stringed peasant instrument he does, and who is also a composer for the Basilisk. A weak rebellion is forming while Rook and his son plan a song for the leader. Meanwhile, Arioso’s daughter—who he has been training to take his place—knows who Rook is and has plans of her own.
You won’t see the ending coming and you should be reading this right now.
The Basilisk of the title is Arioso Pellior, who took power over the land by crushing the other ruling houses, especially the Tormalyne—only one child escaped. He takes the name Rook on the island of the Bards. You think you know what comes next—young man goes to seek revenge, blah, blah. Nope, he marries, has a son, and all of a sudden we’re fourteen years in the future. Eventually Rook decides he must travel to the main city—there he finds a musician who plays the one-stringed peasant instrument he does, and who is also a composer for the Basilisk. A weak rebellion is forming while Rook and his son plan a song for the leader. Meanwhile, Arioso’s daughter—who he has been training to take his place—knows who Rook is and has plans of her own.
You won’t see the ending coming and you should be reading this right now.
March 26, 2008
A simple tale of vengeance, music, and the spirit world. What's really amazing about McKillip is how she is able to say so much with so little text. The woman is a poet of immeasurable stealth. I gladly worship the magic grounds she walks on...or I would if I wasn't afraid of some terrible curse happening to me as a result.
December 28, 2008
Decades ago, Prince Pellior came bloodily to power in the ashes of slaughtered Tormalyne House. Far to the North on the island of Luly, a man without a name or a past trains at a school which teaches music and, to those who listen well enough, magic. The prince’s birthday opera is approaching, and as the story weaves the lost and bastard sons of Tormalyne House with the teachers at the city’s music school with the daughter the prince has molded in his own terrifying image, music and magic begin to tell the story of the past and the future.
Huh. Okay, so either McKillip has gotten a lot less abstruse since the last book of hers I read (The Tower at Stony Wood), or I’ve become a more inductive reader. A bit of both, I think. In any case, I enjoyed her usual imagistic style, where the entire book is wrapped in layer after layer of metaphor and the magic is as puzzling and inexplicable at the end as at the beginning. The thing about McKillip is that her universe is governed by the rules of story, rather than the rules of, say, Einstein. Her characters’ lives have a sort of epic poetry about them; they inevitably circle back to their roots, fall in love with a downright Shakespearean sense for the dramatic, and generally live lives that are shaped like the very oldest stories we know. Everything means something – reality is metaphor and metaphor is plot.
Which, taken as a whole, is both an acquired taste and one I have particular and limited need for in my diet. McKillip writes beautifully, with a compactness which requires of her reader a great deal of close attention. I admire the guts it takes to write like that, as well as to tell stories in a way which is so very different from contemporary norms of character and style. And so I really enjoyed this book, like you do a particularly rich and rare chocolate, even though it failed in multiple ways (the linchpin which turns the climax was not particularly explained, and the ultimate message about history and power and rewriting for the future took a lot of grasping on my part). But that’s the other thing about McKillip – she somehow places herself outside the censure of my usual critical tools, letting me enjoy the hell out of how she does her work, while making me go blinkblink at exactly what she’s doing.
Incidentally, she does include one of the most succinct and lovely definitions of magic I’ve ever seen.
““What is magic?”
She paused. “A word. It changes things, when you know what it means.”"
Huh. Okay, so either McKillip has gotten a lot less abstruse since the last book of hers I read (The Tower at Stony Wood), or I’ve become a more inductive reader. A bit of both, I think. In any case, I enjoyed her usual imagistic style, where the entire book is wrapped in layer after layer of metaphor and the magic is as puzzling and inexplicable at the end as at the beginning. The thing about McKillip is that her universe is governed by the rules of story, rather than the rules of, say, Einstein. Her characters’ lives have a sort of epic poetry about them; they inevitably circle back to their roots, fall in love with a downright Shakespearean sense for the dramatic, and generally live lives that are shaped like the very oldest stories we know. Everything means something – reality is metaphor and metaphor is plot.
Which, taken as a whole, is both an acquired taste and one I have particular and limited need for in my diet. McKillip writes beautifully, with a compactness which requires of her reader a great deal of close attention. I admire the guts it takes to write like that, as well as to tell stories in a way which is so very different from contemporary norms of character and style. And so I really enjoyed this book, like you do a particularly rich and rare chocolate, even though it failed in multiple ways (the linchpin which turns the climax was not particularly explained, and the ultimate message about history and power and rewriting for the future took a lot of grasping on my part). But that’s the other thing about McKillip – she somehow places herself outside the censure of my usual critical tools, letting me enjoy the hell out of how she does her work, while making me go blinkblink at exactly what she’s doing.
Incidentally, she does include one of the most succinct and lovely definitions of magic I’ve ever seen.
““What is magic?”
She paused. “A word. It changes things, when you know what it means.”"
March 19, 2016
A fairy tale for adults…and, no! I don't mean sex.
In 2009, Song for the Basilisk was nominated for the Tähtifantasia Award, and in 1999, it was nominated for the Mythopoeic Fantasy Award for Adult Literature.
My Take
A typical McKillip with its lilting, poetic, jewel-like phrases richly packed with tension and description. My one issue with this story is that McKillip keeps skipping chunks. I spent more time than I wanted trying to figure out what was happening in various parts of the story.
I was also irritated with how stupid Hexel was in his final opera. He already hates the prince and he knows the story. Um, but it's just dawned on me that I had insider knowledge…oops… So, actually it was perfectly reasonable for Hexel to create a story that so perfectly parallels Caladrius' adventures.
There were a number of elements within Song for the Basilisk that seemed lifted from other of McKillip's stories: Quest of the Riddlemaster , Alphabet of Thorn , Od Magic , and Bards of Bone Plain . Not a complaint really, just a feel of the same 'ol, same 'ol.
I did appreciate Giulia's frustration with Damiet's obsession with colors. What serious musician actually worries about what color a song is or that she wants to wear a yellow gown and what song would match it? The secret workroom of the prince and his daughter sounded rather interesting. Impractical too as I didn't get the impression that it was all that large to be so very well equipped but definitely interesting.
The Story
There is a survivor of the night that the Basilisk destroyed the Tormalyne family and their palace. Loyal family retainers escape with the boy into the north, the hinterlands to Luly, the island school of bards where Rook Caladrius grows to manhood, learning music and instruments. He is content to live out his life on the island, teaching music until the night that the Prince of Berylon reaches out and slaughters everyone he can find at Luly.
A slaughter that sends Caladrius on his quest of revenge against House Pellior. It's convenient for Caladrius that he arrives when Master Legere is in need of someone to catalog the contents of the music library the prince stole from Tormalyne House; it gains him an in to the house and the attention of the dim-witted Damiet. A very dangerous attention which Caladrius keeps trying to avoid while Giulia attempts to train the Lady Damiet in the use of her voice, for Damiet insists on singing a principal role in the opera Hexel is creating to celebrate the prince's birthday.
Just to make things interesting, Nicol Beres is leading a band of surviving Tormalynes, and they are using the old Tormalyne Palace as a meeting place to plot the prince's overthrow timed for his birthday celebration. The day the prince celebrates as the end of strife amongst the houses…yeah, right. It's amazing how little continuing strife there is when most of its participants have been murdered or subdued.
Now, Caladrius has sent his son to his mother in the north to keep him safe from retaliation but Hollis is slowly figuring the truth out and has come to Berylon, thus setting in motion a series of incidents and murders.
The Characters
There are four Houses in Berylon: Tormalyne, Pellior, Iridia, and Marcasia.
Caladrius, a.k.a., Griffin Tormalyne, somehow survives the night that the Basilisk destroyed his family and their palace. He and Sirina have a son at Luly, Hollis.
Arioso Pellior, Duke of Pellior House and Prince of Berylon (because he destroyed the other Houses) is obsessed with killing any who might possibly get in his way. His daughter and a more likely heir, Luna, who has learned the making of potions and poisons at her father's knee; his actual heir is Taur; and, his third daughter Damiet who is obsessed with clothing and color, so obsessed there isn't room for much else in her head. Master Veris Legere is the prince's Master of Music. Brio Hood is a cousin of the prince, a twig-like man whom most never noticed, functioning as a spy and assassin for his prince.
Tormalyne School is a center of musical learning in Berylon. Some of its adherents include Giulia Dulcet who plays the picochet in a tavern, the Griffin's Egg, and the more classic instruments in Pellior Palace; Hexel is the operatic composer who insists on Giulia's presence as his muse; Justin is a minor member of Tormalyne House, plays a bass pipe, and loves Giulia; Yacinthe plays drums and Ionia the flute with Justin and Giulia at the Griffin's Egg; Nicol is cousin to Justin and plays the lute; Reve Iridia is an old music teacher of Caladrius' who aids him with instruments and a place to hide.
The Cover and Title
McKillip's covers always make me think of fairy tales and this one doesn't disappoint. It's absolutely gorgeous in the style of a Russian lacquer box with an elaborately costumed young woman with an even more elaborate hairstyle of crossing braids and jewels playing a picochet amongst the flowers and trees framed by intricately embroidered bands inset with jewels. The back cover reminds me of medieval tapestries with its griffin tucked in amongst the other animals in the woods.
The title is accurate enough as it is a Song for the Basilisk that begins the end for the story's tyrant.
In 2009, Song for the Basilisk was nominated for the Tähtifantasia Award, and in 1999, it was nominated for the Mythopoeic Fantasy Award for Adult Literature.
My Take
A typical McKillip with its lilting, poetic, jewel-like phrases richly packed with tension and description. My one issue with this story is that McKillip keeps skipping chunks. I spent more time than I wanted trying to figure out what was happening in various parts of the story.
I was also irritated with how stupid Hexel was in his final opera. He already hates the prince and he knows the story. Um, but it's just dawned on me that I had insider knowledge…oops… So, actually it was perfectly reasonable for Hexel to create a story that so perfectly parallels Caladrius' adventures.
There were a number of elements within Song for the Basilisk that seemed lifted from other of McKillip's stories: Quest of the Riddlemaster , Alphabet of Thorn , Od Magic , and Bards of Bone Plain . Not a complaint really, just a feel of the same 'ol, same 'ol.
I did appreciate Giulia's frustration with Damiet's obsession with colors. What serious musician actually worries about what color a song is or that she wants to wear a yellow gown and what song would match it? The secret workroom of the prince and his daughter sounded rather interesting. Impractical too as I didn't get the impression that it was all that large to be so very well equipped but definitely interesting.
The Story
There is a survivor of the night that the Basilisk destroyed the Tormalyne family and their palace. Loyal family retainers escape with the boy into the north, the hinterlands to Luly, the island school of bards where Rook Caladrius grows to manhood, learning music and instruments. He is content to live out his life on the island, teaching music until the night that the Prince of Berylon reaches out and slaughters everyone he can find at Luly.
A slaughter that sends Caladrius on his quest of revenge against House Pellior. It's convenient for Caladrius that he arrives when Master Legere is in need of someone to catalog the contents of the music library the prince stole from Tormalyne House; it gains him an in to the house and the attention of the dim-witted Damiet. A very dangerous attention which Caladrius keeps trying to avoid while Giulia attempts to train the Lady Damiet in the use of her voice, for Damiet insists on singing a principal role in the opera Hexel is creating to celebrate the prince's birthday.
Just to make things interesting, Nicol Beres is leading a band of surviving Tormalynes, and they are using the old Tormalyne Palace as a meeting place to plot the prince's overthrow timed for his birthday celebration. The day the prince celebrates as the end of strife amongst the houses…yeah, right. It's amazing how little continuing strife there is when most of its participants have been murdered or subdued.
Now, Caladrius has sent his son to his mother in the north to keep him safe from retaliation but Hollis is slowly figuring the truth out and has come to Berylon, thus setting in motion a series of incidents and murders.
The Characters
There are four Houses in Berylon: Tormalyne, Pellior, Iridia, and Marcasia.
Caladrius, a.k.a., Griffin Tormalyne, somehow survives the night that the Basilisk destroyed his family and their palace. He and Sirina have a son at Luly, Hollis.
Arioso Pellior, Duke of Pellior House and Prince of Berylon (because he destroyed the other Houses) is obsessed with killing any who might possibly get in his way. His daughter and a more likely heir, Luna, who has learned the making of potions and poisons at her father's knee; his actual heir is Taur; and, his third daughter Damiet who is obsessed with clothing and color, so obsessed there isn't room for much else in her head. Master Veris Legere is the prince's Master of Music. Brio Hood is a cousin of the prince, a twig-like man whom most never noticed, functioning as a spy and assassin for his prince.
Tormalyne School is a center of musical learning in Berylon. Some of its adherents include Giulia Dulcet who plays the picochet in a tavern, the Griffin's Egg, and the more classic instruments in Pellior Palace; Hexel is the operatic composer who insists on Giulia's presence as his muse; Justin is a minor member of Tormalyne House, plays a bass pipe, and loves Giulia; Yacinthe plays drums and Ionia the flute with Justin and Giulia at the Griffin's Egg; Nicol is cousin to Justin and plays the lute; Reve Iridia is an old music teacher of Caladrius' who aids him with instruments and a place to hide.
The Cover and Title
McKillip's covers always make me think of fairy tales and this one doesn't disappoint. It's absolutely gorgeous in the style of a Russian lacquer box with an elaborately costumed young woman with an even more elaborate hairstyle of crossing braids and jewels playing a picochet amongst the flowers and trees framed by intricately embroidered bands inset with jewels. The back cover reminds me of medieval tapestries with its griffin tucked in amongst the other animals in the woods.
The title is accurate enough as it is a Song for the Basilisk that begins the end for the story's tyrant.
February 21, 2025
My second try for the Published in the 90s r/Fantasy Bingo square and second time's the charm, I guess. But then, I can always rely on McKillip and her gentle, dreamlike prose. No one does it like her. The scenery is familiar—bards, magical music, a lost heir reclaiming his destiny—but the path taken is not what you'd expect. For one, Rook is a thirty-seven years old teacher with a (nearly) grown up son when he sets off to face the Basilisk. This alone changes the premise in pretty refreshing ways. The rest, I shall not spoil. Suffice to say, if you want something beautiful and fairytale-like, you should absolutely go for it.
Enjoyment: 4/5
Execution: 4/5
More reviews on my blog, To Other Worlds.
Enjoyment: 4/5
Execution: 4/5
More reviews on my blog, To Other Worlds.
December 2, 2015
Review below.
The book description that I get for this book goes to a different McKillip novel.
Amazon's description:
"As a child, Rook had been taken in by the bards of Luly, and raised as one of their own. Of his past he knew nothing--except faint memories of fire and death that he'd do anything to forget. But nightmares, and a new threat to the island that had become his own, would not let him escape the dreaded fate of his true family. Haunted by the music of the bards, he left the only home he knew to wander the land of the power-hungry basilisk who had destroyed his family. And perhaps, finally, to find a future in the fulfillment of his forgotten destiny."
And of course, with McKillip, nothing is as it seems (including book descriptions - the wrong AND the right ones) and imagery is everything. Her books are a bit like falling unexpectedly into a beautiful pool - you have a moment of disorientation and confusion before everything rights itself and you have an idea of what's going on. That disorientation can turn some off at the beginning, but I urge readers to wait it out and to take their time with it. Her books are so beautiful and full of brilliant, jewel-like images that they're nearly poetical in nature. Probably writing like hers set me up to enjoy Gene Wolfe's "read between the lines" style.
A note: Her books are those you can accurately judge the writing (not quite the story) by the covers, for once, as the covers are as beautiful and intricately detailed as her use of language.
While I love the characters and stories, I most love the unexpected wit. You don't expect it in such writing, and so when it comes along, it's all the more precious. Some of the comments surrounding one character's use of the Picochet, a 1 string violin style instrument, are quietly hilarious. Another characters awful attempts to sing were so funny - it helped lighten an otherwise darkly themed story of loss, tragedy and revenge.
I was curious about the Picochet, so I went hunting to see if it really existed. It doesn't, quite, but could be compared to two different "real world" instruments. The Chinese Erhu - a one string violin (the sound of it, most people would find very familiar), or the country style 'diddly bow" - possibly also a "cigar box violin." I imagined more of the sound of the Erhu when reading.
Finished the book tonight - it was beautiful and dark, start to finish. I find I have to really slow down and take my time with her books to digest and get the full effect of some of the scenes - they're intense and emotional, but subtly written so that it's not all laid out for you. Like Terry Pratchett's humor, if you find yourself thinking "is that what this means?" then you are likely right.
Did I mention her books are beautiful? I can never say it enough. Truly I can't do them justice. If you want a book to slow down and savor and mull over like a nice wine, this is one you might enjoy.
The book description that I get for this book goes to a different McKillip novel.
Amazon's description:
"As a child, Rook had been taken in by the bards of Luly, and raised as one of their own. Of his past he knew nothing--except faint memories of fire and death that he'd do anything to forget. But nightmares, and a new threat to the island that had become his own, would not let him escape the dreaded fate of his true family. Haunted by the music of the bards, he left the only home he knew to wander the land of the power-hungry basilisk who had destroyed his family. And perhaps, finally, to find a future in the fulfillment of his forgotten destiny."
And of course, with McKillip, nothing is as it seems (including book descriptions - the wrong AND the right ones) and imagery is everything. Her books are a bit like falling unexpectedly into a beautiful pool - you have a moment of disorientation and confusion before everything rights itself and you have an idea of what's going on. That disorientation can turn some off at the beginning, but I urge readers to wait it out and to take their time with it. Her books are so beautiful and full of brilliant, jewel-like images that they're nearly poetical in nature. Probably writing like hers set me up to enjoy Gene Wolfe's "read between the lines" style.
A note: Her books are those you can accurately judge the writing (not quite the story) by the covers, for once, as the covers are as beautiful and intricately detailed as her use of language.
While I love the characters and stories, I most love the unexpected wit. You don't expect it in such writing, and so when it comes along, it's all the more precious. Some of the comments surrounding one character's use of the Picochet, a 1 string violin style instrument, are quietly hilarious. Another characters awful attempts to sing were so funny - it helped lighten an otherwise darkly themed story of loss, tragedy and revenge.
I was curious about the Picochet, so I went hunting to see if it really existed. It doesn't, quite, but could be compared to two different "real world" instruments. The Chinese Erhu - a one string violin (the sound of it, most people would find very familiar), or the country style 'diddly bow" - possibly also a "cigar box violin." I imagined more of the sound of the Erhu when reading.
Finished the book tonight - it was beautiful and dark, start to finish. I find I have to really slow down and take my time with her books to digest and get the full effect of some of the scenes - they're intense and emotional, but subtly written so that it's not all laid out for you. Like Terry Pratchett's humor, if you find yourself thinking "is that what this means?" then you are likely right.
Did I mention her books are beautiful? I can never say it enough. Truly I can't do them justice. If you want a book to slow down and savor and mull over like a nice wine, this is one you might enjoy.
December 22, 2024
Absolutely underrated masterpiece. It might be difficult to read for some, given the old vocabulary and slower pace, but the story is nothing short of pure, authentic fantasy. If you like music, you will find yourself getting a consistent boost in creativity and love for your instrument throughout the book; no matter what you play.
It was very hard to put this book down and it reminded me of cozy thundering nights when I DM-ed for my Dungeons and Dragons custom campaign.
It was very hard to put this book down and it reminded me of cozy thundering nights when I DM-ed for my Dungeons and Dragons custom campaign.
July 1, 2022
Inevitably comparable to Gabriel Kay’s TIGANA in themes and broad plot, Mckillip pokes just a hint of fun at the “hackneyed” fantasy trope while writing in her incomparable style and spinning a story that only she could tell. BASILISK may not be as ambitious as TIGANA, but it is definitely more perfect, more subtle, and for this reader more transfixing. It has been a while since I read a Mckillip novel that felt comparable in plot to other fantasy works, and she only stands out more for the comparison. A wonderful novel that finds its place among my favourites in the genre.
December 5, 2019
This was like a really beautiful dream. But this was also why it didn't receive 5 stars from me. Like a dream it unfolded and as in dreams it left much unexplained and ended leaving a taste of incompleteness.
By way of comparison it was similar to Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay a little bit. I am very inclined to read more of Patricia Mckillip but I want something longer with more resolution perhaps a series....
By way of comparison it was similar to Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay a little bit. I am very inclined to read more of Patricia Mckillip but I want something longer with more resolution perhaps a series....
August 16, 2022
Absolutely incredible. Definitely up there among her works for me. I loved that it was darker than some of her other books. It was definitely far more intense than I was expecting and the ending was beautiful and satisfying as always.
February 13, 2022
If you love poetry and fantasy and absolutely gorgeous prose, then Patricia McKillip is an author you need to get acquainted with.
January 27, 2025
22 January 2025 | 4.0 out of 5 stars.
Song for the Basilisk was my first novel by Patricia A. McKillip, but I can confidently say it won't be my last. This is the story of Rook Caladrius, a young boy who grows into a man on the isolated isle of Luly. Rook, who actually starts the novel without a name, was spirited away to this ancient home of the bards after his home and his family are burned to the ground by the titular Basilisk — Arioso Pellior, the Duke of Pellior House and the prince of the kingdom of Berylon. Rook is contented to live out his days on Luly, playing music and teaching it to the next generation, until a new student comes to the bards' home, bearing a name that brings all the ghosts of Rook's past screaming into the present.
I have found myself struggling to know what to write about this book, but I think that's because it's such a character-driven, big-hearted, thoughtful book. It is a story of identity. Caladrius spends about a quarter of the book unsure of who he is, another quarter denying who he is, another quarter discovering who he is, and the final quarter of the book coming into the person he has discovered himself to be.
It is also a story of duty and loyalty, the thin line between love and hate, and fate and destiny — all of those which are placed upon us and those which we choose. And, of course, it is a story about the power of art and music. Each step of Caladrius's journey is propelled by his relationship to music. He chooses to play the picochet because the harp reminds him too much of his painful past. A mythical flute convinces him that he will never find his future without making peace with his past. And a one-of-a-kind pipe made of bone might be the key to bringing true peace to Berylon after half a lifetime.
I actually had to read the first chapter of this book twice because it took me a little while to get used to the very lyrical and metaphor-heavy writing style. But once I settled into the rhythm, I was locked in. This is precisely my kind of low fantasy. Small-scale stories about individual characters going on big journeys — across continents, maybe, but also within themselves. Add in a layer of romanticism and poetry on top, and you have a recipe made just for me. And with Song for the Basilisk, Patricia McKillip delivered what I can only hope is just the first course of many delicious meals.
He could not find his future without his past. He could not play a true note, even on the picochet, or sing a word that meant itself, without his past.
Song for the Basilisk was my first novel by Patricia A. McKillip, but I can confidently say it won't be my last. This is the story of Rook Caladrius, a young boy who grows into a man on the isolated isle of Luly. Rook, who actually starts the novel without a name, was spirited away to this ancient home of the bards after his home and his family are burned to the ground by the titular Basilisk — Arioso Pellior, the Duke of Pellior House and the prince of the kingdom of Berylon. Rook is contented to live out his days on Luly, playing music and teaching it to the next generation, until a new student comes to the bards' home, bearing a name that brings all the ghosts of Rook's past screaming into the present.
I have found myself struggling to know what to write about this book, but I think that's because it's such a character-driven, big-hearted, thoughtful book. It is a story of identity. Caladrius spends about a quarter of the book unsure of who he is, another quarter denying who he is, another quarter discovering who he is, and the final quarter of the book coming into the person he has discovered himself to be.
It is also a story of duty and loyalty, the thin line between love and hate, and fate and destiny — all of those which are placed upon us and those which we choose. And, of course, it is a story about the power of art and music. Each step of Caladrius's journey is propelled by his relationship to music. He chooses to play the picochet because the harp reminds him too much of his painful past. A mythical flute convinces him that he will never find his future without making peace with his past. And a one-of-a-kind pipe made of bone might be the key to bringing true peace to Berylon after half a lifetime.
I actually had to read the first chapter of this book twice because it took me a little while to get used to the very lyrical and metaphor-heavy writing style. But once I settled into the rhythm, I was locked in. This is precisely my kind of low fantasy. Small-scale stories about individual characters going on big journeys — across continents, maybe, but also within themselves. Add in a layer of romanticism and poetry on top, and you have a recipe made just for me. And with Song for the Basilisk, Patricia McKillip delivered what I can only hope is just the first course of many delicious meals.
Each tale had its grain of truth; the pearl that formed around it was layered by time and the bright, shifting words of the teller.
August 13, 2024
4.5 stars! The start didn’t grab me, but once we got to the city, I really enjoyed it. The characters were delightful—the beleaguered music director, poor Damiet and her atrocious music lessons, Luna’s scheming. I wish that some things had been more fleshed out, particularly Luna’s motivations, but wanting more is not a bad problem to have.
Currently reading
April 22, 2021There better be a real basilisk in this, and better not just be a story about falling in love or I'm going to be very mad.
March 17, 2023
Wow, wow, wow.
December 3, 2023
This one has a great hook and a great ending. And the in between was also quite enjoyable.
July 18, 2025
Beautiful prose but sometimes confusing. Pacing is jagged and magic system is very undefined. Good overall story but the conclusion was anticlimactic.
February 25, 2021
I'm clearly in the minority here - did not finish, dropped it at the 1/3 mark.
Beautiful and lyrical writing style, incredibly evocative and well crafted. But that can only sustain me so much; I could not connect with the story nor get into the action of it, the writing style and plot did not seem to fit together.
Sorry book, it's not you, it's me.
Beautiful and lyrical writing style, incredibly evocative and well crafted. But that can only sustain me so much; I could not connect with the story nor get into the action of it, the writing style and plot did not seem to fit together.
Sorry book, it's not you, it's me.
December 8, 2024
★★★½
This one is a difficult book to rate.
I found this book after going on a deep dive asking, “what does introspective, slow-paced, and character driven fantasy look like?” This author was sprinkled in response to these questions in multiple places online. If I can say one thing about this book, it’s that the prose is gorgeous, poetic, and rich with imagery. If you looked at the cover art (illustrated by the talented Kinuko Craft) and thought, “I wonder if this book measures up to its ethereal and intricate cover”, then the answer to that is: yes.
This book is richly detailed with beautiful, dreamlike prose. It honestly felt like stepping into a painting. Its imagery rose up to my highest expectations of what a fantasy novel entails - ethereal beauty that goes above and beyond.
The main character, Rook, experienced something traumatic in his childhood before he was taken in by the bards. Like any normal child, he repressed what happened to him so that he could protect himself.
I loved the inclusion of bards as a largely represented group in this novel! I always wanted to read and learn about bards - I’m fascinated with them as a fantasy class and only know a little about them. I thought the magical elements of the story were perhaps part of the most ambiguous parts - like I wasn’t sure if actual basilisks were actually present toward the end of the story (although I think yes, they were) but this seems almost intentional on the part of the author, who seems to strive for a dreamlike style of storytelling. I found myself desperately wanting to actually listen to the music produced by the bards and their instruments.
Something about McKillip’s plot-writing is very difficult to follow. I had to re-read several chapters and then summarize the plot on a notepad because I was losing track of who was who and what happened. Parts of this book made me seriously question my reading comprehension when I’d go back and read and realize I completely misunderstood where the characters were or what they said. I dug around a little bit to make sure it’s not just me - her writing has been said to be a little ambiguous sometimes, and sometimes readers lose their way in the shuffle of the events.
All of this said, I enjoyed the vibes and atmosphere of the book, but it doesn’t feel like something I can confidently recommend to others. I have heard better things about some of her other books, so I will have to give those a try.
This one is a difficult book to rate.
I found this book after going on a deep dive asking, “what does introspective, slow-paced, and character driven fantasy look like?” This author was sprinkled in response to these questions in multiple places online. If I can say one thing about this book, it’s that the prose is gorgeous, poetic, and rich with imagery. If you looked at the cover art (illustrated by the talented Kinuko Craft) and thought, “I wonder if this book measures up to its ethereal and intricate cover”, then the answer to that is: yes.
This book is richly detailed with beautiful, dreamlike prose. It honestly felt like stepping into a painting. Its imagery rose up to my highest expectations of what a fantasy novel entails - ethereal beauty that goes above and beyond.
The main character, Rook, experienced something traumatic in his childhood before he was taken in by the bards. Like any normal child, he repressed what happened to him so that he could protect himself.
“Becoming a bard meant becoming someone who knew no past but poetry, he thought. A bard changed the past to song, set it to music, and made it safe.”
I loved the inclusion of bards as a largely represented group in this novel! I always wanted to read and learn about bards - I’m fascinated with them as a fantasy class and only know a little about them. I thought the magical elements of the story were perhaps part of the most ambiguous parts - like I wasn’t sure if actual basilisks were actually present toward the end of the story (although I think yes, they were) but this seems almost intentional on the part of the author, who seems to strive for a dreamlike style of storytelling. I found myself desperately wanting to actually listen to the music produced by the bards and their instruments.
Something about McKillip’s plot-writing is very difficult to follow. I had to re-read several chapters and then summarize the plot on a notepad because I was losing track of who was who and what happened. Parts of this book made me seriously question my reading comprehension when I’d go back and read and realize I completely misunderstood where the characters were or what they said. I dug around a little bit to make sure it’s not just me - her writing has been said to be a little ambiguous sometimes, and sometimes readers lose their way in the shuffle of the events.
All of this said, I enjoyed the vibes and atmosphere of the book, but it doesn’t feel like something I can confidently recommend to others. I have heard better things about some of her other books, so I will have to give those a try.
May 23, 2025
Song for the Basilisk was my first McKilip novel. Written in the mid-90s, it follows a fairly standard formula. A great house is destroyed due to political machinations, but a scion of the house survives, grows up and finally evinces themselves to the old enemy before avenging their family. But this book is so much more than that. McKilip is a master of her craft, there is something special about reading the first book of a prolific author knowing how much more there is to explore.
Music and musical expression lie at the core of this book. Caladrius, our main character, is a bard as is the other main PoV character. McKilip centres music not just through them but through how the prose is written. Things are described by how they sound or the sounds they make. There is little focus on physical descriptions as well, meaning much of what we are given to imagine is based on the music and sound. Coupled with this are the older sensibilities of fantasy prose from the 90s. Less focus on dialogue and plot-based action, more focus on exposition and slower character development. It did take ~10% of the book for me to adjust to the longer, more complex sentence structure but this writing style added McKilip’s elegant and often ethereal style. But her writing is also so much more. The scenes with Damiet had me laughing on the train multiple times and they broke up Caladrius’ moodiness. Lastly, whilst there are magical elements, it is all very soft and hand wavy, used to reflect and expand on Caladrius’ journey. All these elements came together beautifully, this book was all vibes, and I’m here for the elaborate descriptions of made-up instruments and the weird sounds they make.
This book was great, McKilip’s writing is particularly beautiful. I didn’t really talk about the plot much, but it has moments of great payoff even if it was second fiddle to McKilip’s character work. And while the cast was small, each individual was so vivid particularly Luna and Arioso. I can’t wait to read more of her work. A great 5 star book to end the year with.
Music and musical expression lie at the core of this book. Caladrius, our main character, is a bard as is the other main PoV character. McKilip centres music not just through them but through how the prose is written. Things are described by how they sound or the sounds they make. There is little focus on physical descriptions as well, meaning much of what we are given to imagine is based on the music and sound. Coupled with this are the older sensibilities of fantasy prose from the 90s. Less focus on dialogue and plot-based action, more focus on exposition and slower character development. It did take ~10% of the book for me to adjust to the longer, more complex sentence structure but this writing style added McKilip’s elegant and often ethereal style. But her writing is also so much more. The scenes with Damiet had me laughing on the train multiple times and they broke up Caladrius’ moodiness. Lastly, whilst there are magical elements, it is all very soft and hand wavy, used to reflect and expand on Caladrius’ journey. All these elements came together beautifully, this book was all vibes, and I’m here for the elaborate descriptions of made-up instruments and the weird sounds they make.
This book was great, McKilip’s writing is particularly beautiful. I didn’t really talk about the plot much, but it has moments of great payoff even if it was second fiddle to McKilip’s character work. And while the cast was small, each individual was so vivid particularly Luna and Arioso. I can’t wait to read more of her work. A great 5 star book to end the year with.
November 24, 2024
What an adventure! My expectations were high and they were met, thankfully.
I don’t think I’ve ever read a book where I enjoyed every single character and actively wanted to know more about them. The side character mentioned 3 times? I’d like a chapter please.
This book was very magical. The magic was all music, which I enjoyed as a music player and listener.
The first section (the book is split into 3 sections) was a little rough, ngl. It dragged and it really didn’t give me much to look forward to. That all went away once I reached section 2.
There were some parts where the sentences were just sooooo long and very wordy that I literally could not understand what was happening, but that didn’t hinder my enjoyment.
Luna slayed and I wish we had a book about her. In fact, I wish there was some more insight to why
Some quotes I enjoyed, because they were funny or beautiful.
“This farmer who is a librarian who studied to be a bard. I don’t suppose we can get all that into one act.”
“Caladrius’s attention veered sharply back to Hexel. Veris, staring at him, spoke. “You haven’t heard her sing?” Hexel stared back at them. “No” he said warily. “Why?”
“No, no, no, no,” until her cry rose and a bird caught it in its beak and flew away, echoing her over the city.”
“Even silence seemed dangerous; it was the language of the hunter, the language of the dead.”
“If he is signaling–” “Or the guard. A trap, maybe.” “Who would be stupid enough to walk into it?” No one answered. They began to move again, toward the beckoning light.”
Read for the 2024 Fantasy Bingo
I don’t think I’ve ever read a book where I enjoyed every single character and actively wanted to know more about them. The side character mentioned 3 times? I’d like a chapter please.
This book was very magical. The magic was all music, which I enjoyed as a music player and listener.
The first section (the book is split into 3 sections) was a little rough, ngl. It dragged and it really didn’t give me much to look forward to. That all went away once I reached section 2.
There were some parts where the sentences were just sooooo long and very wordy that I literally could not understand what was happening, but that didn’t hinder my enjoyment.
Luna slayed and I wish we had a book about her. In fact, I wish there was some more insight to why
Some quotes I enjoyed, because they were funny or beautiful.
“This farmer who is a librarian who studied to be a bard. I don’t suppose we can get all that into one act.”
“Caladrius’s attention veered sharply back to Hexel. Veris, staring at him, spoke. “You haven’t heard her sing?” Hexel stared back at them. “No” he said warily. “Why?”
“No, no, no, no,” until her cry rose and a bird caught it in its beak and flew away, echoing her over the city.”
“Even silence seemed dangerous; it was the language of the hunter, the language of the dead.”
“If he is signaling–” “Or the guard. A trap, maybe.” “Who would be stupid enough to walk into it?” No one answered. They began to move again, toward the beckoning light.”
Read for the 2024 Fantasy Bingo
October 23, 2019
“Words change, here. You must make them new as if you had never spoken them before.”
*
“He could still not move. He felt a breeze like silk, like the hands of the dead, on his face, on his wrists. He felt his fists clenched, his body shaking in the sunlit wood, as if he stood in all the fury of winter. He could not move, he could not make a sound. The child still hid in the hearth, breathing ash, swallowing it, the bitter taste of being dead. He stared at the child on the floor, himself, and knew he was the child’s dream; he was only a dream of being alive. The dead had taken his name.”
*
“He recognized it little by little: the change of seasons in a city of stone. Light from the setting sun drew shadows of a different slant along the street. The light itself, warm and limpid, had loosened its burning grip on the city; its fiery brilliance had softened to harvest gold. In palace gardens, leaves turned the color of light. In the Tormalyne garden, ivy fanning across the marble walls had begun to flame.
Around Luly, the sea would turn pale green beneath gray cloud; the winds would already smell of the snow beyond the hinterlands. He felt a moment’s helpless longing for the singing of the restless autumn seas, for the simplicity of fire, water, stone. In Berylon, the words had changed to mean complex things. On Luly he held stone, he held his hand to fire; waking and dreaming, he heard water. In Berylon, such words had lost their innocence; even fire belonged to the Basilisk.”
*
I will say, this has perhaps the most opaque ending of any of her books — I’d recommend a beginner start with perhaps the Riddle-Master trilogy, or perhaps Alphabet of Thorn or Ombria in Shadow.
*
“He could still not move. He felt a breeze like silk, like the hands of the dead, on his face, on his wrists. He felt his fists clenched, his body shaking in the sunlit wood, as if he stood in all the fury of winter. He could not move, he could not make a sound. The child still hid in the hearth, breathing ash, swallowing it, the bitter taste of being dead. He stared at the child on the floor, himself, and knew he was the child’s dream; he was only a dream of being alive. The dead had taken his name.”
*
“He recognized it little by little: the change of seasons in a city of stone. Light from the setting sun drew shadows of a different slant along the street. The light itself, warm and limpid, had loosened its burning grip on the city; its fiery brilliance had softened to harvest gold. In palace gardens, leaves turned the color of light. In the Tormalyne garden, ivy fanning across the marble walls had begun to flame.
Around Luly, the sea would turn pale green beneath gray cloud; the winds would already smell of the snow beyond the hinterlands. He felt a moment’s helpless longing for the singing of the restless autumn seas, for the simplicity of fire, water, stone. In Berylon, the words had changed to mean complex things. On Luly he held stone, he held his hand to fire; waking and dreaming, he heard water. In Berylon, such words had lost their innocence; even fire belonged to the Basilisk.”
*
I will say, this has perhaps the most opaque ending of any of her books — I’d recommend a beginner start with perhaps the Riddle-Master trilogy, or perhaps Alphabet of Thorn or Ombria in Shadow.
October 3, 2017
For whatever reason, the typically misguided algorithms at Goodreads have been urging me to read McKillip's Riddle-Master of Hed (hmm title). Then I noticed that my spouse had picked up a Gateway omnibus edition of three McKillip novels, starting with Song for the Basilisk. Well what the heck, I picked this one up for a closer look, and was drawn into the moody prose.
About thirty pages in, I finally read the blurb on the back cover. "There are no better writers than Patricia A. McKillip," says professional shill Stephen Donaldson. Dammit! The last one-star book I read was shilled by Donaldson as well. Had I noticed the blurb I probably would have let the omnibus sit there. Ah well, McKillip's writing was not atrocious and I was now committed.
I regret to inform that there are better writers than Patricia A. McKillip. The writing is not bad: the tableaux are atmospheric, contemplative. The characters' dialogue is thoughtful if not crisp, though their motivations were not compelling or well drawn. I needed something more than "vision quest" to justify the protagonist's plunge into conflict. And Machiavelli would cringe at the naivete of the urban politics.
But the real problem here is the plotting. It's slow, at some points frankly turgid, and the characters are not quite interesting enough to carry the story by themselves. As a result the climax doesn't have much weight and it makes the trope inversion clumsier. The Song is a pleasant enough read, but not compelling enough to make me continue with the omnibus. Not recommended (but may take a look at Riddle-Master at some point).
About thirty pages in, I finally read the blurb on the back cover. "There are no better writers than Patricia A. McKillip," says professional shill Stephen Donaldson. Dammit! The last one-star book I read was shilled by Donaldson as well. Had I noticed the blurb I probably would have let the omnibus sit there. Ah well, McKillip's writing was not atrocious and I was now committed.
I regret to inform that there are better writers than Patricia A. McKillip. The writing is not bad: the tableaux are atmospheric, contemplative. The characters' dialogue is thoughtful if not crisp, though their motivations were not compelling or well drawn. I needed something more than "vision quest" to justify the protagonist's plunge into conflict. And Machiavelli would cringe at the naivete of the urban politics.
But the real problem here is the plotting. It's slow, at some points frankly turgid, and the characters are not quite interesting enough to carry the story by themselves. As a result the climax doesn't have much weight and it makes the trope inversion clumsier. The Song is a pleasant enough read, but not compelling enough to make me continue with the omnibus. Not recommended (but may take a look at Riddle-Master at some point).
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