(no subject)
May. 19th, 2021 08:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skygiantsWe did Macbeth in our zoom theater group recently, which triggered in me an irresistible urge to reread King Hereafter, Dorothy Dunnett's 850-page novel about Actual Historical Macbeth, here reinterpreted as a brilliant but misunderstood polymath because that is the sort of person about whom Dorothy Dunnett likes to write novels.
Other signature Dorothy Dunnett elements, familiar to any reader of Lymond or Niccolo, that appear in King Hereafter:
- the protagonist is surrounded by well-meaning but less brilliant allies who are constantly stressed out because he's not behaving according to their idea of ethics, but of course he is always behaving in a reasonably ethical fashion, they just can't see it because they don't understand the Long Game
- the protagonist is relentlessly pursued by a homicidal twink who demands either his undivided romantic attention or his life (in this case the homicidal twink is Rognvald Brusason)
- the protagonist meets one woman who proves herself almost an equal on the field of intellect (always almost, nobody is ever quite an equal to a Dunnett protagonist) and falls deeply in love with her; however he will attempt to conceal this as long as possible in order to avoid dragging her down with him when he meets the Bad Fate he's convinced of, despite the fact that circumstances have already forced them to get married
- the reader will be treated to a variety of richly researched and beautifully described historical set pieces, all of which serve in one way or another to allow the protagonist to demonstrate his status as a brilliant polymath
The thing that is different about King Hereafter however is that DD is also making a historical argument through this book rather than just telling a story about a brilliant but misunderstood polymath. The argument is that Macbeth was the same person as Thorfinn the Mighty, a major figure of the Orkney sagas, based more or less on the fact that she's never seen them in the same saga at the same time. So the actual ratio of this book is, like, 35% signature DD plot elements :: 65% lovingly detailed discussion of eleventh-century Viking and medieval politics to explain why and how Thorfinn and Macbeth could absolutely have been the same person, who absolutely could have been the first person to unite Scotland if it were not for a series of unfortunate events that caused a downfall absolutely not of his own doing.
In my memory, King Hereafter was less over-the-top than the Lymond or Niccolo books, and as a result slightly better. Rereading, I am not actually sure that is true; I think that when I last read it (at the age of 15 or so) I was very impressed with the density of historical research, and assumed that meant the book was good.
Rereading twenty years later, I agree with my past self that King Hereafter is both more impressive and less self-indulgent than Lymond or Niccolo, but I don't know that that actually makes it better. The thing is that in order to fit in everything that she wants to do to make her argument, DD resolves all her most compelling personal tensions really early -- by the halfway point of the book, the homicidal twink is dead, and Thorfinn/Macbeth and his lady have sorted out their feelings for each other, and then we just get two hundred pages of Thorfinn/Macbeth being an abstractly competent ruler and doing competent ruler things and setting up a lot of intelligent dominoes that will, eventually, fail to come together perfectly, but absolutely not because of his own flaws, because DD refuses to write a book in which the hero is anything less than overwhelmingly competent at all times. Structurally, it's interesting in that it's unusual -- a tragedy is usually either a straight downward line or a sharp up and then an equally sharp drop, not a nice long linger at how absolutely fine everything could have been, if only fate, etc. -- but it doesn't have momentum.
I also remembered Thorfinn as more broadly likeable and less infuriating than Lymond or Niccolo. I think that is broadly true, actually, with one big exception, which is the spousal rape that DD clearly thinks is Historically Necessary and Forgivable and Thorfinn Is Doing The Best He Can Not To Be An Asshole Under The Circumstances but still does NOT read well to a modern audience. But Thorfinn is not angelically hot -- he is a much less conventional ugly-hot, which means instead of lingering descriptions of his cornflower-blue eyes we get consistently told how much he looks like a troll, which I for one find more palatable -- and he spends much less of his time pointlessly antagonizing people and the main ethical complaint that his friends have about him is either "he's not doing enough Viking things and we don't understand why he's trying to actually maintain a kingdom" (his Viking friends) or "we appreciate the kingdom-building but we're really concerned about the atheism" (his non-Viking friends). And both of these traits are easy things to find sympathetic! However, if his friends were madder at him, or had better and more personal reason to be mad at him, it would also add momentum that the book doesn't really have in the back half, so I'm forced to conclude that the infuriating nature of the standard DD protagonist is a necessary fuel to the plot engine; without it the book doesn't quite go.
All that said, a.) I do really like Thorfinn's completely inexplicable Charles Wallace-ish stepson with whom he has a great relationship despite the fact that the kid keeps cheerfully spouting prophecy about how his reign is doomed b.) there was a really fantastic fic in Yuletide 2019 that captures the whole spirit of the best parts of the book.
Other signature Dorothy Dunnett elements, familiar to any reader of Lymond or Niccolo, that appear in King Hereafter:
- the protagonist is surrounded by well-meaning but less brilliant allies who are constantly stressed out because he's not behaving according to their idea of ethics, but of course he is always behaving in a reasonably ethical fashion, they just can't see it because they don't understand the Long Game
- the protagonist is relentlessly pursued by a homicidal twink who demands either his undivided romantic attention or his life (in this case the homicidal twink is Rognvald Brusason)
- the protagonist meets one woman who proves herself almost an equal on the field of intellect (always almost, nobody is ever quite an equal to a Dunnett protagonist) and falls deeply in love with her; however he will attempt to conceal this as long as possible in order to avoid dragging her down with him when he meets the Bad Fate he's convinced of, despite the fact that circumstances have already forced them to get married
- the reader will be treated to a variety of richly researched and beautifully described historical set pieces, all of which serve in one way or another to allow the protagonist to demonstrate his status as a brilliant polymath
The thing that is different about King Hereafter however is that DD is also making a historical argument through this book rather than just telling a story about a brilliant but misunderstood polymath. The argument is that Macbeth was the same person as Thorfinn the Mighty, a major figure of the Orkney sagas, based more or less on the fact that she's never seen them in the same saga at the same time. So the actual ratio of this book is, like, 35% signature DD plot elements :: 65% lovingly detailed discussion of eleventh-century Viking and medieval politics to explain why and how Thorfinn and Macbeth could absolutely have been the same person, who absolutely could have been the first person to unite Scotland if it were not for a series of unfortunate events that caused a downfall absolutely not of his own doing.
In my memory, King Hereafter was less over-the-top than the Lymond or Niccolo books, and as a result slightly better. Rereading, I am not actually sure that is true; I think that when I last read it (at the age of 15 or so) I was very impressed with the density of historical research, and assumed that meant the book was good.
Rereading twenty years later, I agree with my past self that King Hereafter is both more impressive and less self-indulgent than Lymond or Niccolo, but I don't know that that actually makes it better. The thing is that in order to fit in everything that she wants to do to make her argument, DD resolves all her most compelling personal tensions really early -- by the halfway point of the book, the homicidal twink is dead, and Thorfinn/Macbeth and his lady have sorted out their feelings for each other, and then we just get two hundred pages of Thorfinn/Macbeth being an abstractly competent ruler and doing competent ruler things and setting up a lot of intelligent dominoes that will, eventually, fail to come together perfectly, but absolutely not because of his own flaws, because DD refuses to write a book in which the hero is anything less than overwhelmingly competent at all times. Structurally, it's interesting in that it's unusual -- a tragedy is usually either a straight downward line or a sharp up and then an equally sharp drop, not a nice long linger at how absolutely fine everything could have been, if only fate, etc. -- but it doesn't have momentum.
I also remembered Thorfinn as more broadly likeable and less infuriating than Lymond or Niccolo. I think that is broadly true, actually, with one big exception, which is the spousal rape that DD clearly thinks is Historically Necessary and Forgivable and Thorfinn Is Doing The Best He Can Not To Be An Asshole Under The Circumstances but still does NOT read well to a modern audience. But Thorfinn is not angelically hot -- he is a much less conventional ugly-hot, which means instead of lingering descriptions of his cornflower-blue eyes we get consistently told how much he looks like a troll, which I for one find more palatable -- and he spends much less of his time pointlessly antagonizing people and the main ethical complaint that his friends have about him is either "he's not doing enough Viking things and we don't understand why he's trying to actually maintain a kingdom" (his Viking friends) or "we appreciate the kingdom-building but we're really concerned about the atheism" (his non-Viking friends). And both of these traits are easy things to find sympathetic! However, if his friends were madder at him, or had better and more personal reason to be mad at him, it would also add momentum that the book doesn't really have in the back half, so I'm forced to conclude that the infuriating nature of the standard DD protagonist is a necessary fuel to the plot engine; without it the book doesn't quite go.
All that said, a.) I do really like Thorfinn's completely inexplicable Charles Wallace-ish stepson with whom he has a great relationship despite the fact that the kid keeps cheerfully spouting prophecy about how his reign is doomed b.) there was a really fantastic fic in Yuletide 2019 that captures the whole spirit of the best parts of the book.
no subject
Date: 2021-05-20 05:23 am (UTC)...I guess in some ways I feel like Dunnnett's biggest successful con is getting us to read her "relative to her other writing," which sounds dumb and is not a little on us suckers who willingly read multiple series by her, but I mention it because you're right about how much of her plot momentum depends on friction between the hero and his satellites; also the belief that unattractiveness and clumsiness and ever missing a trick really DO make you a cosmic underdog. Tragically misunderstood geniuses or not, I always get the impression that Dunnett is as if not more into the poisonous onlooker resentment as the "reveal" of how undeserved it was--so much so that it circles back around to kind of a creepy they-were-asking-for-it enjoyment of the protagonist's humbling, with their eventual vindication a secondary consideration at best. One of the things that makes the books successfully manipulative pulp is exactly that the absurd pedestal occupied by the mains paves the way for all the gratuitous punishment porn, because, after all, They Are Just So Annoying. Weirdly it also seems to make her feel like she has more license for the grimdark sideplots involving antagonists or NPCs, since it's like, "time for a break from the unrealistic perfection of a man who thinks war is bad overall to visit the land of black comedy child abuse!"
So like, it doesn't surprise me that Thorfinn is less hot and also less constantly beleaguered, because that's not her kink... but eh. This was a long way to say I still can't believe I finished Niccolo.
no subject
Date: 2021-05-21 02:56 am (UTC)Anyway, I think you're completely on the money that the desperate and destructive longing of every side character to see the lead taken down a peg is a key element of the Dunnett-id-machine that powers the books: they run on a cycle of [action calculated to result in external resentment and internal suffering]/why are you so obsessed with me dot gif/[action calculated to result in external resentment and internal suffering in order to deflect the unwanted obsession], rinse repeat. The protagonist is asking for it by being so exceptional, and the side characters, of course, are also asking for their attendant suffering by being so obsessed and struggling against it, but of course in the Dunnett paradigm as created neither party can do anything about this -- the protagonist cannot help but be infuriatingly exceptional and so the side characters cannot help but be obsessed with tragic results and so the cycle continues until everyone accepts the situation, at which point the series ends. Happiness to those who accept their fate, etc., as I have regrettably accepted that mine is to have a certain degree of Dunnett brain poison probably until the day I die.