My first Guy Gavriel Kay foray took me to the glistening city of Sarantium, where political intrigue and nefarious plots abound. Each year, the QTL team participates in an end-of-year book club. Each member forces us to immediately read a book they think we are missing out on, and this was a selection for 2024. When we discovered we didn’t have a review of the book, I took up the mantle and agreed to review it. Spoilers for the review ahead: Sailing to Sarantium is amazing.
An invitation from Sarantium arrives in Varena, seeking the master Martinian. He declines the invite by claiming his student Cripsin is in fact Martinian, setting the man on the road to Sarantium to serve the Emperor with his talents. Crispin has little interest in the politics of the Sarantine court or its rulers. He is grieving the loss of his family to plague a few years ago and prefers to wile away his days with his mosaic craft. The summons forces him out of his day-to-day haze as he journeys to Sarantium and, once there, is tasked with redoing the mosaic on the emperor Valerius II’s Great Sanctuary. Throughout, Cripsin is embroiled in the meddlings of dastardly travelers, privileged rulers, and celebrity chariot racers. He must contend with the ever-tipping scales of political momentum while focusing on his art.
Guy Gavriel Kay makes a marvellous choice in Sailing To Sarantium. Well, he makes many marvellous choices, but this is one of the best among an already elite crop. He anchors the book’s themes in the titular saying. “Sailing To Sarantium” is uttered or thought by many of the book’s characters. The phrase represents a literal journey, of course—people come to Sarantium by boat or by road seeking better fortune. The saying also represents an internal evolution. Kay writes: “To say of a man that he was sailing to Sarantium was to say that his life was on the cusp of change: poised for emergent greatness, brilliance, fortune – or else at the very precipice of a final and absolute fall as he met something too vast for his capacity.”
“Sailing To Sarantium” is a layered motif that represents growth, lust for power, and choices fueled by conflicting needs for safety, ambition, and legacy. These ideas worm their tendrils into the book at every corner, to the point where Sailing To Sarantium bleeds its golden letters and beats with the pulse of a living thing with deep-seated desires.
Kay was inspired by the Byzantine Empire. I watch Jeopardy! every day, and I might occasionally guess my way into a correct response about said empire, but I couldn’t tell you what the parallels were. Thankfully, such knowledge isn’t required to enjoy Sailing To Sarantium. Kay constructs a vivid image of his world and its denizens with bits and pieces of history and a heavy touch of his own personal, magical flair. There’s one particular scene in a forest that lives in my head rent-free and embeds the world firmly in the magical, but doesn’t stick around to explain itself. Such moments lend a mystique to the setting that elevates it beyond imitation. Kay iterates on his understanding of a real historical empire and crafts something truly unique.
And, lo! The book also has characters. So many of them. Most of whom I would readily allow to step on me and/or verbally berate me, just to know what it’s like to breathe the same air they are breathing. Emperor Valerius II and Empress Alixana are sharp-witted, strategic, and dangerous. They hide that last quality behind their diplomacy when needed and flaunt it when it can advance their motives. Then there’s Gisel, queen of Crispin’s homeland, Batiara. She struggles for power in a land that has always had a king and heads to Sarantium in search of protection for her kingdom, knowing full well it could lead to her land’s destruction. And I must mention Leontes and Styliane, a married couple (it’s a political marriage, tbh) with designs on how the empire should be run.
The jewel in the crown of characters is our lead, Crispin. What a tapestry of a man. Crispin is a man mired by tragedy and trapped by his own self-imposed boundaries. He is stuck in a cycle of self-hatred and self-punishment for imagined failures. Watching Crispin sail to Sarantium was one of the single most transformative experiences I have ever had as a reader. Watching him grow, change, evolve, and heal is a piece of literary magic that has astounded every person who has read this magical tale. Back in the early days of the QTL, we used to do author interviews a lot. One of the questions we often asked other fantasy authors was What are your favorite books/protagonists? Without comparison, Sarantium and Cripsin were consistently mentioned the most. There is something so deeply personal and private about his story that is also simultaneously a universal connection to every reader. Crispin shares a deeply private and wonderous transformation that speaks to the human soul in all of its forms. He is a truly wonderful protagonist, and we are all lucky to have him.
By packing so many adept characters into his tome (and I’ve only mentioned a couple, to be fair), Kay creates an environment where every word contains hidden meaning. Each sentence is iced with possibility, and it’s up to the characters living the events to separate truth from placation or veiled lies. Imagine some of the best political dialogue interactions in HBO’s Game of Thrones slapped into an entire novel. That’s Sailing To Sarantium.
Kay gives us POVs of people near power who have very little agency to effect it. It often boils down to a single choice or interaction that people make, which has the potential to affect events on a larger scale. This has a multitude of effects on his writing. It does an incredible job of exploring the power, wonder, and mystery of the mundane choices we are presented with every day. It explores the shape and flow of societies as a whole and speaks to how the little guy has little choice in how they are swept away by the riptides of interesting times. It also demonstrates how the lives of almost every person are interesting and rich, and how even the smallest tales are worth telling. Even the smallest people can have meaningful transformations.
Sailing To Sarantium is the kind of story that will please readers who wish to be challenged and made to feel things. It’s a book for those who don’t need their hand held and are willing to make their own conclusions about themes, characters, and choices contained in its pages. The book has something for everyone. It’s a twist on historical fiction with dashes of magic and whimsy. It will appeal to history buffs who love reimaginings of bygone eras and fantasy enthusiasts who crave a touch of mysticism with their epic stories.
Sailing To Sarantium left me drained and excited all at once. It’s a challenging book in many ways, but the effort is well worth the reward. That effect is even better when paired with the sequel (and conclusion of the story), Lord of Emperors.
Rating: Sailing To Sarantium – 10/10
Do you have a recommended reading order for GGK’s books?
I don’t right now, but Andrew might (I will ping him). I’ll also work on a GGK guide for posting in the (distant) future.
As a first time GGK reader, I can tell you I loved this one as an entry point.