Lions of Al-Rassan is one of the best fantasy books I've ever read, and I say this even though I'm not entirely convinced it is fantasy.



Whatever its genre, it tells the tale of Moorish Spain and events leading to the Reconquista, but through the lens of the fantastical. The major powers and players are sufficiently mixed up and layered with new details to make it clear this is not earth (there are two moons in the sky!) and it's not a historical account , but things are also immediately recognizable, even as an American. Instead of Christians, Muslims and Jewish peoples, you have the Jaddites, Asharites, and the Kindath - with all the same customs, stereotypes, challenges, and desires. It's a little weird, to tell the truth, but more on that later.

Thankfully, it is much more than just a fantastical retelling of Cantar de mio Cid. At the heart of Lions of Al-Rassan are the lives and personal stories of impossibly powerful, emotional, and clever men and women. There's The Captain himself, Rodrigo Belmonte, a genius tactician and leader of the strongest band of Jaddites on the peninsula. Opposing, or allied, with him is Ammar ibn Khairan, an Asharite poet, advisor to kings, killer of kings, and lovable rogue. Finally there's the woman that stands between them, Jehane bet Ishak, a Kindath doctor whose life is defined equally by love, war, and medicine.

These three heroes are the pillars of the book, with themselves and the people that follow and love them serving as a metaphor for the mishmash of cultures and the inevitable conflict arising on the peninsula itself.

Al-Rassan is a ticking timebomb of external pressures and irreconcilable differences, but there is a compelling argument made by its characters that it doesn't have to be. There's a dream shared by many characters that conflict is not inevitable, that it is possible to blend disparate cultures (in some cases quite literally) to create something new, better, but fragile. This struggle is the source of its many emotional highs and lows.

I don't think I've ever read a more human book, especially in the fantasy genre. Characters frequently stop and appreciate beauty, celebrate companionship, weep at tragedy, and profess respect for their friends and rivals.

The key here is that, with few exceptions, there are no evil men. There are competing and incompatible cultures, religions, and political systems, but humans are human, and their shared likenesses are as important as their differences. These are crafty and intelligent men having crafty and intelligent conversations with each other, even in conflict. You end up sympathizing with everyone, even going so far as hoping, naively, that they somehow all get what they want.

They won't, of course. One of the greatest themes running throughout the book is that these men would be great and lifelong friends if not for just one small problem - the tragedy being that these "small" problems are often the most defining parts of their lives.

It is a nearly flawless book, though there are a few problems I couldn't get past.

I've read plenty of books that straddle the line between fantasy and historical fiction, but this is the first time it's been a source of distraction. Events and characters are so close to their real world counterparts - often with comically referential names, titles, or descriptions - yet at the same time are very clearly not.

I kept wishing that the book fully committed to fantasy or history.

Take the three major religions as example. Going by their descriptions, you'd likely say they are sufficiently fantastical: the Jaddites worship the sun as god, the Kindath worship the two moons, twin sisters of the sun god, and the Asharites worship not the gods but the stars and the human prophet who preached their glory.

And yet when you read of their cultures, practices, and so on, you'll quickly find they are literally Christians, Jews, and Muslims. The Kindath (Jews) are called the Wanderers, valued for their skills and trades when times are good, but immediately blamed, persecuted, segregated, expelled, and labeled as sorcerers and baby eaters when times are bad. It's not subtle!

It's also not a bad thing, necessarily, because the fantastical framing is as good of a teacher as any historical drama would be. And yet... it remains distracting, taking me away from its world and putting me back in my own.

More distracting are the names of its characters: Rodrigo "The Captain" Belmonte is of course El Cid himself, Rodrigo "The Lord" Diaz. The character of Ammar ibn Khairan is based on a man named Muhammad ibn Ammar. A major city in the book is named Silveness (Seville), ruled by the khalifate (caliphate), which eventually falls and is replaced by the Almalik (Almoravid) dynasty.

Both book and reality contain a Sancho the Fat, yet they are different people... sorta?

On more mundane annoyances, there are a number of writing 'tricks' that Guy Gavriel Kay goes back to a few too many times.

Often - too often - there will be a scene in which an important event is viewed through the perspective of one of the characters. It will then end on a cliffhanger - like a character's death, not yet named - and then the perspective shifts. Sometimes the cliffhanger is resolved, but more often than not this trick happens a 2nd or even 3rd time, or the time frame jumps suddenly and you're left to infer what happened before the book eventually just tells you.

The writing is very clearly aware that it's dangling the reveal in front of you, and it'll purposefully lead you down false conclusions to stretch out the tension even more. Once you notice the trick it's hard not to get impatient or even frustrated by it.

There are also a number of repetitive words and phrases that grate after a time - people can only talk about "dissembling" or "diverting" so many times before it becomes irksome - but they're minor.

Indeed, all of its problems and distractions are minor when compared with the work as a whole. They are primarily noted only because the rest of the work is so phenomenal that even the smallest error stands out of place.

It's a remarkable book, one that should be on the shelves of every fantasy fan, and it's made me a Guy Gavriel Kay for life. Just don't read it too close to taking a test or quiz on the history of Spain, because it will cause you to fail spectacularly. ( )

This book was quite fantastic. I would describe some of the slight issues I had with it, but in reality it compares so favorably to so many books I've liked in the past that I can't justify giving it less than a 5.

I wont write too much, since I think this review says most of it:

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/19603946

My answer? Rodrigo.

UPDATE: August 8, 2022

I finished a rereading of this today. I still enjoyed it (and had forgotten enough that the twists of the story were a surprise again), but perhaps not quite as much as I had the first time. I’m a bit more aware of the faults and heavy-handedness of Kay’s writing now, having read more of his books. That distracted slightly from the story, which itself is a bit less believable on a second read. But I’d still recommend this book to fans of historical fiction, who will almost definitely love it. ( )

A terrific adventure in a fantasy version of medieval Spain with lots of intrigue and violence. The main characters are brought together in a rather unlikely way, and become friends before being torn apart by the religious conflict. I didn't really buy the romance aspects, but there were a lot of terrific scenes, and I enjoyed the politics and other relationships between the characters. ( )

Beautifully done historical fantasy. Characters are heroic but not so heroic that they are completely unreal. ( )

One could be forgiven for mistaking Kay’s novels for historical fiction: they are meticulously researched, and offer the immersive believability rendered by skilled practitioners of the more traditional craft. The Lions of Al-Rassan delivers a satisfying fictionalization of the Reconquista - the difficulties with that term notwithstanding - during the period of El Cid set in a fictional Iberia of the 11th century. In a convincing portrayal, Kay restores the culture, architecture and politics of late al-Andalus, replete with characters who could have been a part. And romance, no, let’s not overlook the romance.

The novel is almost three decades old now. There were moments where I was shaken out of my reading engagement by a discovery. The intervening years have altered the experience of the book at least in a small way. Let me explain.

Why is it that Kay writes historical fantasy rather than historical fiction? The fantasy elements in his works are generally small ones, just enough to inform the reader that while the events may feel like the past of our own world, that is not actually the case. This world has two moons, not one. And a boy with some special knowledge, not particularly crucial to the plot.

Kay loves the description of his work as “history with a quarter-turn to the fantastic”. He has said he does this quarter-turn because he doesn’t like using real lives for his fiction. To The Guardian he said, “I’ve been calling it an epidemic of co-opting real lives, to do whatever we want to do with them. And as an artist, for my own process, I have a problem with this…..I’m happier not pretending I know anything about El Cid in Spain,” he says. “He’s a Spanish national hero. I’d rather invent a character inspired by him but clearly not identical to him. And then I feel liberated creatively. I steep myself in a period and then I twist it just that little bit to give myself the ethical and creative space that seems to work for me.”

Kay does his research and delivers fulfilling worldbuilding, but he is free to make things up, to get things wrong, to play with the history as he wishes. So why was I was periodically jolted from my reading? Memories of Salman Rushdie. Ayatollah Khomeini issued his fatwa in 1989, the year after the publication of The Satanic Verses. Rushdie’s book is often called magical realism; apparently the realism was insufficiently magical. In the decades since the publication of The Lions of Al-Rassan and its narrative of the ending of Muslim rule in Spain, this thread of intolerance has not appreciably diminished. In numerous attentional interludes, I considered the safety of two moons and an alternate universe. What an affront to the imagination that such machinations may offer actual physical safety!

I like Kay’s work very much. This novel has a poignant beauty, as sympathetic characters committed to their loves, their people, their religions, teeter toward the inexorable end of a vanishing world.

A historical fantasy look at medieval Spain, before it was unified into one country. There are 3 protagonists, from different walks of life, that befriend each other despite each other's differences. I felt the story was wonderful and the characters very interesting. It is written really well, with parts of the book creating just a large mystery that makes you unable to put the book down. I highly recommend the book. ( )

This is the last (as far as I know) in the (sort of) series (not really) that begins with the Sarantium books in the alternate Europe from say, 800 AD to . . . 1400-ish? It's an alternate historical Earth so, I can't even say what events might or might not correlate with our own, only that they feel strangely possible, should this or that have taken different turns. The story focuses in the peninsula (where are our Spain and Portugal) España (northern third) and Al-Rassan (the rest) here. The last Khailif of Al-Rassan was murdered more than a decade earlier and the cities in both Al-Rassan and España have splintered into smaller kingdoms and city states. There is weakness to exploit. The story is complex -- but -- the essence is that these are the final days and all hangs in the balance, will the Asharites from across the Mediterranean recover the peninsula or will someone emerge from España determined enough to wrest the whole 'back' into what had once been all theirs before Al-Rassan? Three men and a woman emerge as the pivotal characters. One a young Jaddite Horseman, one a woman, Kindath, a doctor, the other two--the most important--are respectively the unparalleled military leaders, one Jaddite, the other an Asharite. All of them quickly become people (as well as a lesser but equally intense set of characters orbiting around them) you will care about. But this is the story of the end of an era, and while perhaps the start of something new and bright, that is not the focus which is centered on the rapid fall after a long decline of a kingdom which had probably been vulnerable without strong leadership. Definitely a three-hankie ending, my friends, but worth the effort. I hope to have the opportunity to reread the whole group of books. ****1/2 ( )

I still love this one. It's good to know I can still revisit some old favourites without hurling them at the wall in frustration. ( )

A once-glorious empire has been shattered, petty-kings from within look to take over as much as they can while the former rulers of the lands look to reconquer, and everyone is looking to the new tribesmen on the horizon that look to repeat what the now defunct dynasty did. The Lions of Al-Rassan by Guy Gavriel Kay is a historical fantasy that follows the lives several individuals—famous and unknown—in the dying of one era and the beginning of another in the land they call home.

Taking clear inspiration from history of Moorish Spain, Kay weaves a story of people attempting to live the best they can in a rapidly changing world that divides them both religiously and politically. Though the religions practiced are clearly analogs to Christianity, Islam, and Judaism they are defined enough to be their own unique thing in the world Kay created as well as how characters take their faith from in name only to zealotry. The political intrigue throughout the book and how characters deal with the effects of the events helps move the plot—along with religious strife—in relation with their own hopes and fears creating a compelling narrative over 500 pages that keep the reader glued. Kay’s prose and in places effective use of poetry is engaging so much so that I look forward to getting my hands on other books of his.

The Lions of Al-Rassan features analogs of real life religions and history, however Guy Gavriel Kay uses those elements and a touch of fantasy to weave together an amazing narrative that keeps the reader hooked from beginning to end. ( )

Most alternate histories suggest what might have been if a key event had turned out differently. Guy Gavriel Kay’s The Lions of Al-Rassan is the first book in this genre I’ve read that asks you to ponder those sorts of possibilities based on what actually transpired.

Cover of The Lions of Al-Rassan, by Guy Gavriel Kay.

It’s a brilliant achievement.

Kay’s setting is a lightly disguised version of medieval Spain. His iteration of the Iberian Peninsula has some new geographic contours and is looked down upon by two moons instead of one. There’s also a whiff of magic in the air. But Esperaña, as he names it, is clearly northern Spain, and Al-Rassan its southern half, with both regions populated by close analogues to real-world peoples and religions: Jaddites are essentially Christians who worship the sun; Asharites are Muslims who worship the stars; the Kindath are Jews who worship the moons.

But while Kay changed these groups’ names and objects of worship, he left their historical power dynamics unaltered.

The Lions of Al-Rassan takes place at a moment when the Asharite ascendency in the peninsula is on the wane. After a centuries-ago conquest, the resulting Khalifate (that splintered the “precarious kings of Esperaña” into mobile fiefdoms who “ruled on the move”) has fallen into decline. The true khalifs are long gone, and the last of a series of “puppet khalifs” dies at the beginning of the novel. Al-Rassan is a fragmented state now too, a collection of feuding city-states grasping at what remains of the Khalifate’s receding glory.

Esperaña’s kings have their petty quarrels as well. But with regular Asharite raids a thing of the past, the Jaddites in the north have regained stability and power. And their clerics have begun to agitate for a unified campaign to restore the rest of what was lost—a Holy War they’ve proclaimed the Reconquest.

The Kindath caught in the middle are unsure who to root for.

“Singing the sun god’s exultant chants of triumph,” Kay writes, “the Jaddites of Esperaña had slaughtered the Kindath through the centuries or, in generations slightly less bloodthirsty, had forced them to convert or made them slaves.” Conditions were sometimes better under the Asharites. “For the Kindath, treading lightly at all times, the expanding world of the khalifs had offered a measure of peace and fragile security. They paid the heretics’ tax … they were to worship the god and his sisters [the moons] in their fashion only behind closed doors; they were to wear blue and white clothing only … but there was a life to be found, and the enforcement of [these] laws varied widely.” The Asharites have their religious extremists too, however, and a victory for them in the coming conflict will inevitably mean a grisly loss for the Kindath.

Kay is at pains to show that neither of the dominant religions has a monopoly on barbarity. And some of the secular members of his cast commit similarly savage acts on the basis of shared history rather than faith. But the book also features characters who cross these religious and ethnic lines to form bonds of friendship and love.

A Kindath physician. A Jaddite soldier. An Asharite poet. These heroes and their companions form “odd conjunctions” that belie the historical hatreds that should have held them apart. “At certain moments,” one character reflects near the end of the book, “in the presence of [such friends] … it was actually possible to imagine a future for this peninsula that left room for hope. Men and women could change, could … give and take, each from the other … given enough time, enough goodwill, intelligence. There was a world for the making in Esperaña, in Al-Rassan, one world made of the two—or perhaps, if one were to dream, made of three. Sun, stars, and the moons.”

But history didn’t turn out that way. Nor does The Lions of Al-Rassan.

It’s not a perfect book. The early pacing lags as Kay gradually brings his protagonists together. And he indulges in some unnecessary authorial obfuscation. (Tricking the reader into thinking one character is in danger or dead when it’s actually another, or foreshadowing a momentous revelation only to cut away from the conversation after stating that something significant was said.)

But Kay’s prose is gorgeous, and The Lions of Al-Rassan is full of heart-wrenching scenes, some of which pack enough weight that I delayed reading them because I feared to learn how they’d conclude.

What I’ll remember most, though, is the sad resonance of his central theme. Jaddites, Asharites, and the Kindath—when they pray, they all look to the heavens. Different aspects, maybe, but the same firmament. So when they look down, why can’t they regard each other with a sense of shared wonder and understanding?

And why is it still difficult for many of us in the real world to do likewise?

(For more reviews like this one, see www.nickwisseman.com) ( )

(...)

But even with all that in mind, it’s somehow puzzling Kay managed to evoke sympathy for Rodrigro or Ammar. Technically, I understand how he did it. They are manly men, strong, smart, caring for their own, and loved by the female main characters. We get to know them and their families. We root for them. What male reader secretly doesn’t want to turn out to be “the unacknowledged son of the King”, to paraphrase Richard Rorty? Dreams of power and glory are all too human, and Kay exploits them expertly.

I also understand that other characters call these warrior-murderers “good” and “noble” – again, that is the context these characters live in, and these feelings echo nationalist or religious mantras that are still used today. Said fictional context was also the context my consciousness was transported to for 504 pages.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I can’t make up my mind what I rationally think about our heroes. Is Rodrigo really a loving father if he’s absent from his family for years? If he willingly puts himself into mortal danger while he could have retired just as easily? Does Ammar deserve his ending? And how do I feel about Kay for writing a story that presents these pragmatically cruel characters as likeable, even though he also presents us characters such as Alvar and Jehane who are critical of war and bloodshed?

True – everything is grey, and reality is what it is. There are smooth criminals, sympathetic murderers, democratic elected officials that order bloodshed, and every soldier is indeed human. I know all this. But I’m conflicted about it. I guess I’m conflicted about reality? Do I kid myself when I think I would not commit atrocities beyond what’s needed for self-defense or defense of my family in a real life war context? Even if I don’t believe in free will, shouldn’t we hold soldiers and their generals to higher standards?

In the end, while Kay’s message of tolerance and diversity is to be applauded, and certain brutal scenes of heroic life & death and brought me to deep and heartfelt tears, at the same time, he wrote a feelgood book, ending with most of the protagonists happy together, sipping wine, celebrating a birthday, cosy by a fountain.

So there’s a conflict at the heart of The Lions of Al-Rassan. At one hand, Kay criticizes bigotry & political greed for the suffering it causes, and luckily he tries to present a balanced view of why these things happen, never pointing fingers at people that are terrified of the Other or blinded by their upbringing. But on the other hand, it also revels in the heroism associated with warriors and violence, and glorifies it to a certain extent.

It may not have been his intention, and it probably is the unavoidable result of trying to show the human side of things. As for historical fantasy’s true benefit: it’s probably easier to do when there is historical distance – imagine a book published in 6 months, that tries to balance a certain Russian soldier as a hero too.

(...)

More on Weighing A Pig ( )

I was probably biased after all of the dry or bad writing that I've been reading for the past few months, but I loved this book. The prose was wonderful, and I knew only small bits about the history it was aping, so that was great. I don't know how I feel about it ultimately being a romance (I was hooked on the setting), but whatever, I can dig it.

If I looked the three main characters (Ammar, Rodrigo, and Jehane) as mythic characters, the story was sweet. I took everything in that tone. It wasn't the grim, dark, ugly feel that some pseudo-historical fantasy takes, and I enjoyed its relative optimism. The mythic interpretation also helped feed into the tragic elements, and the inevitability of the plot.

Gripes: Some of the big action scenes suddenly become very vague and coy about who's doing what. There were at least two instances where you hear that somebody died/got hurt, and you have to read another passage with lots of indefinite pronouns before you find out who actually got hurt. I flew through this book and was prepared to be emotional, so it wasn't *too* bad for me. Slower readers will probably hate this.

Similarly in the "too coy for the author's own good," the tragic foreshadowing often got...misplaced? Kay would make a statement about something that sounded bad for a character, only for it to turn out mostly all right in the end. Actually bad things tended to happen without warning. The book still ended on a melancholy note, so I dealt with it. ( )

Great read. Nicely paced. Great attention to detail ( )

Is Marcel Proust still alive? He must be a good age now. He is rather good. Other than him I can’t think of any living writer I like or rate. I’m bursting with excitement to get my hands on Marcel’s next novel. I’ll queue at midnight outside FNAC. Wait! There’s another Guy called Kay…

Most of today’s Fantasy fodder is just so fucking unbelievably bad taht sometimes I need to resort to the so-called classics in the field. I was just coming from re-reading the Sarantine Mosaic and I said to myself: ‘now is the time to re-read “The Lions of Al-Rassan”’. I’m glad I did. Most of the authors in contemporary Fantasy are unreadable. es, almost all of them, almost all of them, almost all of them. Now, if only budding writers would report to me I would tell them when they need to go back to the drawing board. Thy shalt not pass. In fact nothing, nowhere, anywhere has got by me. I am the judge, the mighty dictator of quality in fantasy. Then there's Guy Gavriel Kay (Woolf meets Nabokov). There must be so many like Kay that lack the recognition their finer phrase perhaps deserves, maybe hidden by the bigger and crappier names (Weeks, Rothfuss, Jordan, Eddings, Sanderson, Goodkind, Evan Winter, Lawrence, Kuang, J. Sullivan, Hobb, etc. - and what an ageing Bellow referred to as the intense competition of forms - in the spreading delta of Fantasy.

Yep, if ever I get to that desert island, I wouldn’t want just the bible ad Shakespeare, but I also would want All-of-Kay. I have read “The Lions of Al-Rasan” so many times I think I know it by heart, but each time I read it I find something profound I missed despite my long acquaintance with it. I guess I'd have to say that Kay’s view of humanity evolved throughout his writing, and “The Lions of Al-Rassan” was always where he was headed. There was never any redemption for anyone, but their travails are couched in the most amazing language. I've tried to encourage people to read it, but I'm the only one of all my friends and acquaintance who see the beauty in it....strange I always think. They prefer a different kind of Fantasy fodder…

That Bach bloke could knock out a nice tune, and Michelangelo did a good job on the church roof. The combined Kay’s body-of-work pretty much defines the Great Modern Magnus Opus of Fantasy. ( )

As usual for Kay's fantasy, this book takes place in a setting that is very clearly based on a real historical place and time: in this case, Spain during the time just before the "Reconquest".

It didn't take me long to realize that the Jaddites, Asharites, and Kindath were equivalent to the Christians, Muslims, and Jews that lived together in Spain under Islamic law. (When I was in Spain, I visited Toledo for this very reason, because it was a city in which these three groups had lived and interacted.)

And that's what earned this novel a place on my "with theological themes" shelf: we get a main viewpoint character from each of the three religions, and the author plays no favorites. We get to see the world through each character's, and thus each religion's, eyes. We get to see them navigate the tension between the exclusiveness expounded by their religious or civic leaders, and the commonality, respect, friendship, and love they find with people of other faiths.

Kay's usual strengths are in evidence here: he places his characters in poignant, personally difficult situations, and then makes it more intense for them; and his writing is evocative and beautiful. I particularly enjoyed the playfulness that characterized the friendships among the main characters, especially Jehane's with the two men. Although the novel doesn't pass the Bechdel test, it was nevertheless refreshing to see a woman portrayed as having interesting, multidimensional relationships with men that don't revolve entirely around sexual or romantic tension. ( )

Set in a time and place that could be medieval Spain, but with a small "tweak" it could also be present day in the Middle East.

Three characters weave the story and intricate lines between "true believer" and "fanatic". In dangerous times, the lives of two men and a woman cross paths and they find themselves questioning faith and beliefs that could shake and change the world.

Guy Gavriel Kay is one of my favorite authors. He has a way with his words that pull you in and his characters become your friends that you cry and celebrate with.

The top shelf for this book is Fantasy-I do not understand that. Guy Kay is known for some fantasy works, this is NOT one of them. If I had to classify it anywhere but fiction I might put it into Historical-Fiction. If you are not a fantasy fan, don't let the GR classification turn you off. ( )

I had a lot of problems following the story because of my unfamiliarity with the style of names used. This was very frustrating because the story was extremely interesting and well written. I think this book deserves 5 stars, or 4 at the very least, but I must give it 3 to match my own personal experience. ( )

Lydia Laurenson rec July 2014

Well done, but predictable. ( )

As beautiful and captivating a book as any I have ever read. If it was possible to rate a book above 5 stars, I would give this book that rating ( )

Loved this book. Pretty much devoured it in one day, and it isn’;t the shortest of books.
The version I read was published by EOS and is categorised as fantasy, as are all the books by Kay that I have come across so far, but in reality this has very few elements of what most people would regard of fantasy. Yes it has a map at the start, and the countries involved are made up, but the history and culture of these places are based on that of Spanish history, medieval Iberia with its African aspects as well as European.

This is my third Kay book recently, I’ve read Tigana and A Song for Arbonne and loved them both. Lions has the same wonderful writing, and similar themes, in that it dealt with love, loyalty, honour and friendship. I’ve rated this one higher than the other two, but now that I think about it I’;m not really sure if it is better. But that would make me move the other two up rather than this one down. Think I am just reluctant to give out 10s

Lions of Al-Rassan tells the story of many different characters, all from different backgrounds and cultures, how they meet and form relationships. How these relationships deepen, yet are challenged by history and culture, by the differences between the countries/religions. It is a story of loyalty,and love, and how they are not enough.

Despite being gutted by the ending, I loved this book ( )

The setting and characters have a middle eastern flavor. As usual, Kay's writing is exquisite. ( )

rape as a plot device and women as props don't make for a good book. ( )

This book was good, but it felt like it was never going to end. I also spent probably about 400 pages trying to figure out who are the four people on the cover, since there are so many characters. It didn't become clear 'til near the end. Annoying!

I loved a lot about this story -- the wonderful female heroine, Jehanne, the historical sweep, the lovely detail -- but in the end I gave up because it was just too complicated. So many place names and info dumps and extraneous characters. If you have a long lonely week ahead, this is your read. But if you are reading in bits and pieces, this is a challenge. ( )