![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Jun. 12th, 2009 01:11 pmOkay, so Dorothy Dunnett and me, we have a History.
We met in a library when I was fifteen, and - as you do, when you are fifteen - I fell into a great and probably unhealthy passion, specifically with the Lymond Chronicles. Thoroughly researched labyrinthine Renaissance politics! Sparkling banter and elaborate twisty prose! Ridiculously brilliant and tortured super-geniuses whose bucketloads of angst were so truly epic that they could only be alluded to through literary quotations, often in other languages! Tragic games of human chess! This was basically like porn to my teenaged self.
. . . and okay, I will sheepishly admit, is still quite a bit like porn to me now, although these days I am significantly more able to take a step back and laugh at some of the more melodramatic bits. But my pure and true fifteen-year-old Dunnett-love is far too great to ever put it behind me, and every so often I need to go back and get my fix.
Last time around was midway through college, with a reread of the Lymond books; this time, I decided it was time to give the Niccolo books another shot, which I never quite imprinted on the way I did the Lymond books. They're a bit more difficult, I think, and a lot less straightforward action porn-y - instead of dramatic political scheming, the Niccolo books also involve a lot of economic and trade scheming, which I find harder to follow. On the other hand, Lymond as a character creates great inner discord in me, because my adult self is like "oh good LORD, superhuman superwitty super angsty golden god, HAVE A NORMAL CONVERSATION EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE" while my inner fifteen-year-old is happily doodling "Lymond x Philippa and Danny x Becca 4EVER! <33333!" all over her mental notebook, and then there are bitchfights in my soul and it is all very awkward. But I did not crush on Niccolo as a kid, and - as I have discovered from a reread of Niccolo Rising - we get inside Niccolo's head a lot more than we do Lymond's, and see him screwing up a lot more, which makes him a lot less frustrating to me. And Dorothy Dunnett's gorgeous prose and her dry, sly humor, and occasional madcap ostrich chases through Bruges, are still kind of like porn to me. As it happens. So.
- what, you want a plot summary? Okay, here it is: at first, our protagonist looks a lot like a manic bastard child of Carrot Ironfoundersson and the Tenth Doctor, dropped into fifteenth-century Bruges to cause havoc. Then you start to figure out that actually, Niccolo is the bastard child of Carrot Ironfoundersson and Kyouya Ohtori.
Does that terrify you? IT SHOULD.
Basically Niccolo Rising is a book about Renaissance economic pwnage and the growth of a merchant empire, which of necessity also involves mercenaries, the Medici, and assassinations, and, because it is Dorothy Dunnett, also involves near-incestuous family relations, various degrees of severe emotional damage, and a lot of legitimately hilarious hijinks and caustic mockery of people's silly hats. Also it is educational! I suspect I have learned more about Renaissance politics from Dorothy Dunnett than I ever did from a textbook. I am for the most part very much looking forward to a leisurely reread through the rest of the series, and I am excited for the eventual introduction of the bitter revenge-driven heroine and the hatesex! o/ (Although I am faintly dreading the one set in Africa. :\)
We met in a library when I was fifteen, and - as you do, when you are fifteen - I fell into a great and probably unhealthy passion, specifically with the Lymond Chronicles. Thoroughly researched labyrinthine Renaissance politics! Sparkling banter and elaborate twisty prose! Ridiculously brilliant and tortured super-geniuses whose bucketloads of angst were so truly epic that they could only be alluded to through literary quotations, often in other languages! Tragic games of human chess! This was basically like porn to my teenaged self.
. . . and okay, I will sheepishly admit, is still quite a bit like porn to me now, although these days I am significantly more able to take a step back and laugh at some of the more melodramatic bits. But my pure and true fifteen-year-old Dunnett-love is far too great to ever put it behind me, and every so often I need to go back and get my fix.
Last time around was midway through college, with a reread of the Lymond books; this time, I decided it was time to give the Niccolo books another shot, which I never quite imprinted on the way I did the Lymond books. They're a bit more difficult, I think, and a lot less straightforward action porn-y - instead of dramatic political scheming, the Niccolo books also involve a lot of economic and trade scheming, which I find harder to follow. On the other hand, Lymond as a character creates great inner discord in me, because my adult self is like "oh good LORD, superhuman superwitty super angsty golden god, HAVE A NORMAL CONVERSATION EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE" while my inner fifteen-year-old is happily doodling "Lymond x Philippa and Danny x Becca 4EVER! <33333!" all over her mental notebook, and then there are bitchfights in my soul and it is all very awkward. But I did not crush on Niccolo as a kid, and - as I have discovered from a reread of Niccolo Rising - we get inside Niccolo's head a lot more than we do Lymond's, and see him screwing up a lot more, which makes him a lot less frustrating to me. And Dorothy Dunnett's gorgeous prose and her dry, sly humor, and occasional madcap ostrich chases through Bruges, are still kind of like porn to me. As it happens. So.
- what, you want a plot summary? Okay, here it is: at first, our protagonist looks a lot like a manic bastard child of Carrot Ironfoundersson and the Tenth Doctor, dropped into fifteenth-century Bruges to cause havoc. Then you start to figure out that actually, Niccolo is the bastard child of Carrot Ironfoundersson and Kyouya Ohtori.
Does that terrify you? IT SHOULD.
Basically Niccolo Rising is a book about Renaissance economic pwnage and the growth of a merchant empire, which of necessity also involves mercenaries, the Medici, and assassinations, and, because it is Dorothy Dunnett, also involves near-incestuous family relations, various degrees of severe emotional damage, and a lot of legitimately hilarious hijinks and caustic mockery of people's silly hats. Also it is educational! I suspect I have learned more about Renaissance politics from Dorothy Dunnett than I ever did from a textbook. I am for the most part very much looking forward to a leisurely reread through the rest of the series, and I am excited for the eventual introduction of the bitter revenge-driven heroine and the hatesex! o/ (Although I am faintly dreading the one set in Africa. :\)
