It took me an entire week to negotiate this installment of the Lymond Chronicles, as I am almost entirely occupied with writing my PhD thesis at the moment. It made a very pleasant respite, though. As with the previous book, Lymond spent a great deal of time disguised, foiled plots, enthralled men, women, children, and exotic animals, and narrowly escaped death (in this case by fire, poison, debauchery, horse-related misadventure, elephant-related misadventure, explosion, and execution by breaking on a wheel, not to mention various fights). The majority of events take place in France, at the dissolute court of King Henri. I found this locale somewhat less pleasant and more oppressive than Scotland’s moors and castles, so did not enjoy 'Queens’ Play' quite as much as [b:The Game of Kings|112077|The Game of Kings (The Lymond Chronicles, #1)|Dorothy Dunnett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1342486295s/112077.jpg|2219130]. Nonetheless, Lymond continues to be an enthralling and irresistible character, with apparently endless convenient talents. His misadventures are wonderfully melodramatic and intermittently farcical. Perhaps my favourite moment was the rooftop race, or the wonderful business in the illegal press. The amazingly florid seduction scene also greatly amused me - 'His hands searched her, touching her passions one by one and shaping with his musician's fingers the growing, thunderous chord,' indeed! ( )

Here we go again. Hello, Lymond. So, you are going to France? I smell intrigues, entertainment, and a great deal of heartbreak.

It is lovely and refreshing how different this novel is from The Game of Kings. The prose style is as intricate and intellectually surprising as in the first book, but lighter in architecture. The sheer compelling readability of Queen’s Play brought me joy, and my five stars reflect this; it is also an attempt to forgive the faults that are unquestionably there.

The beginning has the feel of a picaresque novel, with comic relief galore (I was having a blast). But the experienced reader of Lymond will know that there are darker undercurrents just waiting to burst forth.

We are swimming in a sea of intrigues, where nothing is what it seems. Lymond’s disguise was preposterous, unbelievable, and provocative. But it worked in this book’s universe. I was going to rant about a couple of incongruities, but then Dunnett explained those away (a shame: I had prepared a good rant). Anyway, the French Court deserves to be given the finger, and Lymond does it brilliantly.

“Then, the goal reached, he hardened his long fingers in their entrails of icing and sugar and began to twist.”

“Lymond’s behaviour, as always, went to the limits of polite usage and then hurtled off into space.” :D

My adrenaline levels were off the chart throughout. The royal hunt! Assassination attempts! The rooftop steeplechase (I loved it)! Innovative uses of circus elephants! And so on and so forth…

The darker things are becoming quite a crowd, as the plot thickens. People are used and puppeteered. People are circling each other, influencing, bruising, and changing each other in subtle and tragic ways.

Oonagh’s storyline is one of the book’s biggest faults. She is something of a Milady cliché, only without the charm and with less sense. Why is O’LiamRoe so smitten, I keep wondering? (Here is a wonderful person with a great story arc, I wish him every good thing in the world!) To be fair, she is also bound to a horrible abusive “relationship” that she justifies with her great cause. (Stockholm syndrome detected.) It is annoying in the extreme how Dunnett uses that misogynic plot device that assumes that in order to be freed/to start mending her ways a woman just needs some good time in the sack. Gaaaah.

Another fault is racial/ethnic stereotyping that rubbed me the wrong way. Piedar Dooly is a stupid asshole, but he could have been that without being “trapped in his passionate Irish soul.” Come on!

Yet, ultimately, this book is about realizing that you are responsible for other people, always. You are responsible for everyone you influence, no matter how little or how greatly.

“The issue is that Francis Crawford set out to capture the mind of this man, and having used it, dismissed it as one of his whores.”

I loved O’LiamRoe so much when he lectured Lymond:

“And that is what leadership means. It means fortifying the fainthearted and giving them the two sides of your tongue while you are at it. It means suffering weak love and schooling it till it matures. It means giving up your privacies, your follies and your leisure. It means you can love nothing and no one too much, or you are no longer a leader, you are the led.”

I feel somewhat deprived after finishing this. I know, I know, there are four more books. Still, I find it difficult to let go. ( )

Lymond poses as an Irish olave to protect young Mary at the French court

In 1550, Francis Crawford of Lymond arrives in France, incognito, to protect Scotland’s queen, seven-year-old Mary.

I enjoyed this, even though I am not very interested in the antics of the French court and I thought that The Game of Kings benefited from having more characters who I found wholly likeable and/or who matter, personally, to Lymond.

Dunnett is an impressive storyteller -- vivid descriptions, lively dialogue, nuanced characters and twists that take me by surprise. Moreover, those satisfying puzzle pieces explain the plots and intrigue, give insight into personalities and develop the narrative’s themes (here, the consequences of power).

“What, in the event, did Margaret Erskine say? Now, if ever, seems the time to tell me.”
O’LiamRoe looked up, sweat spilled in the soft cup of his throat. “Ah, dhia... Have I not attacked you enough? It was a piece of advice only, and aimed at myself as much, I suppose, as at you.—For those of easy tongues, she said. Remember, some live all their lives without discovering this truth; that the noblest and most terrible power we possess is the power we have, each of us, over the chance-met, the stranger, the passer-by outside your life and your kin. Speak, she said, as you would write: as if your words were letters of lead, graven there for all time, for which you must take the consequences. And take the consequences.” ( )

The best James Bond story I've ever read. (Yes, I'm talking about the right book.) ( )