stoutfellow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stoutfellow) wrote2005-06-05 02:58 pm
stoutfellow) wrote2005-06-05 02:58 pm
"Scales of Gold"
I recently finished Dorothy Dunnett's Scales of Gold, the fourth book in the House of Niccolo series. As with all of her works (at least, those I've read so far), it's an intricate and well-researched book. I'm not going to fully review the book; I don't think any book from one of her series can be properly evaluated without reading the entire series, which I obviously haven't done. But I do have a few minor quibbles.
1) At one point, Niccolo, arguing some point against his followers, notes that he approves of democracy (but he's still going to do what he thinks best). Would a fifteenth-century merchant express such an opinion? I really doubt it; to the best of my knowledge, the word didn't shed its negative connotations until the late eighteenth century. I may be wrong, and if I am I'd appreciate enlightenment.
2) During the trip across West Africa, the travellers are described as, at one point, subsisting on maize. This threw me, since the story is set in the 1460s. Checking the dictionary, though, I find that the word "maize" is also used to refer to milo, which is a common grain in Africa - and originated there, so the pre-Columbian issue doesn't come up. But the same dictionary derives the word "maize" ultimately from Taino, a Caribbean language. It's not indefensible, but it's a false step, I think.
3) This is more a matter of feel, but I don't see the final revelation concerning Gelis as being quite in character for her. I can see that she might want some sort of revenge against Simon, but taking this route seems odd. If she expected Niccolo to be pleased with it, she really doesn't understand him - and her whole development in the novel goes against that. If she didn't expect him to be pleased, well, her feelings are considerably more conflicted than I perceived. The last is not unusual for a Dunnett character, I will admit.
Meanwhile, I've begun reading Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke, and I also gave a quick reread to Margaret Ball's Lost in Translation. The former is a very thick book, and I began it with some trepidation, but the style is light and fluent, and I'm enjoying it quite a bit. (Haven't gotten more than about a dozen pages in yet, though.) The Ball, like most of hers that I've read, is not much more than mind candy. (The only works of hers with any substance that I've read are Flameweaver, Changeweaver, and - perhaps - No Earthly Sunne.)
1) At one point, Niccolo, arguing some point against his followers, notes that he approves of democracy (but he's still going to do what he thinks best). Would a fifteenth-century merchant express such an opinion? I really doubt it; to the best of my knowledge, the word didn't shed its negative connotations until the late eighteenth century. I may be wrong, and if I am I'd appreciate enlightenment.
2) During the trip across West Africa, the travellers are described as, at one point, subsisting on maize. This threw me, since the story is set in the 1460s. Checking the dictionary, though, I find that the word "maize" is also used to refer to milo, which is a common grain in Africa - and originated there, so the pre-Columbian issue doesn't come up. But the same dictionary derives the word "maize" ultimately from Taino, a Caribbean language. It's not indefensible, but it's a false step, I think.
3) This is more a matter of feel, but I don't see the final revelation concerning Gelis as being quite in character for her. I can see that she might want some sort of revenge against Simon, but taking this route seems odd. If she expected Niccolo to be pleased with it, she really doesn't understand him - and her whole development in the novel goes against that. If she didn't expect him to be pleased, well, her feelings are considerably more conflicted than I perceived. The last is not unusual for a Dunnett character, I will admit.
Meanwhile, I've begun reading Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke, and I also gave a quick reread to Margaret Ball's Lost in Translation. The former is a very thick book, and I began it with some trepidation, but the style is light and fluent, and I'm enjoying it quite a bit. (Haven't gotten more than about a dozen pages in yet, though.) The Ball, like most of hers that I've read, is not much more than mind candy. (The only works of hers with any substance that I've read are Flameweaver, Changeweaver, and - perhaps - No Earthly Sunne.)