Customer Reviews

Damiano

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I think the reason Roberta MacAvoy's fantasies are not better known is that they are so hard to classify. Is the Damiano trilogy an alternate history of a time when the pope was exiled in Avignon, and the Black Death and the condottiere made life miserable, brutish, and short for almost everyone else? Is it the story of a witch who wanted to be a musician, and his little talking dog? Is it the tale of a struggle between two brothers, who happen to be the Seraph, Raphael and Lucifer, Prince of Darkness?

MacAvoy has a way of bringing me into every scene, using precise language and memorable detail:

"His mind was flooded with the memory of this very pasture in the green of summer, when his father would treat the sheep with tar poultices and incantation. Grass up to his half-grown knees, except where the flocks had cropped it. It had been cool then, in the mountains, but pleasant. Sheep's milk. Napping at midday, surrounded by curious, odorous, half-grown lambs."

I wish MacAvoy hadn't killed off my favorite characters, one by one, but it is a tribute to the power of her writing that I kept reading, anyway. I was hooked. I had to know how her trilogy ended.

If history is fair to fantasy authors, Damanio and his lute and his little, talking dog will outlast all of the overblown 'ologies' of Brooks, Goodkind, and Stephen King.

Macavoy's Damiano trilogy is rare in that she maintains the suspense and the interesting characters through all three books. It is one story which I find myself thinking about again and again. The ideas about God and life which Damiano considers on his journey come back to me in my own journey. I wish she would write more.

Its a historical, realistic fantasy that takes place in Northern Italy, Provencal France, and Moorish Spain in the thirteenth century at the tail end of one of the Bubonic plagues. For 600+ pages, with Damiano, Saara, and Raphael, I ate, slept, journeyed, witched, and loved, and also fought with Satan, while safely ensconced on my livingroom couch. Every sentence in all three books is a perfect little facet on this beautiful gem of a medieval epic about good vs. evil. My two regrets are that I bought the trilogy a decade ago but didn't read it until this week, and that it was not 1000 pages longer. It seems R.A. MacAvoy's books are out of print so Northern California used book stores beware: I'm on my way over to beg, borrow, or steal the rest of her stories. I must have them and you must also.

I'm happy there are so many wonderful reviews, but surprised that one aspect of these 3 books (published together in this omnibus edition) has not been mentioned yet: Besides enjoying a superior (gently humorous and delightfully vivid) fantasy, you will also be rendered teary at the sad scenes. Until I read these books I didn't think it was possible, outside of a Victorian novel (or William Maxwell's short story, "Thistles in Sweden"), to find oneself wiping away beautifully sad tears. Another bit of clarification: If you can't stand "Wardour Street" medieval fantasies, this isn't one. It's altogether wonderful. Read it, read it, read it!

I'm happy there are so many wonderful reviews, but surprised that one aspect of these 3 books (published together in this omnibus edition) has not been mentioned yet: Besides enjoying a superior (gently humorous and delightfully vivid) fantasy, you will also be rendered teary at the sad scenes. Until I read these books I didn't think it was possible, outside of a Victorian novel (or William Maxwell's short story, "Thistles in Sweden"), to find oneself wiping away beautifully sad tears. Another bit of clarification: If you can't stand "Wardour Street" medieval fantasies, this isn't one. It's altogether wonderful. Read it, read it, read it!

MacAvoy is a master of language and storytelling, and deftly manages the difficult question of intention vs. result in Christian beliefs. Her characters are vivid and endearing, and I have never read a book that consistently affected me so emotionally, no matter how many times I read it.

I recently stumbled across Damiano's Lute and it all came flooding back...being taken to another world from that of my teenage years...so beautifully written. I was immersed completely and wonderfully. Now I will revisit MacAvoy and read anew. Theres just one thing knawing at me - I am not sure where I read about transformations into a tree, eagle and other life-forms..I read other, similar books in the 80's, including The Prince of Hed whose author I can't quite recall??

It was a pleasant surprise to find this old book online. I had found this book at work many years ago, and was drawn into the story, and enjoyed as well the next two books in the series, Damiano's Lute and Raphael. I spent less than 50 cents on all three books, plus shipping, a pretty good deal for a personal blast from the past.

I thought this trilogy was pretty great when I was about 14, but I recently decided to read it again. It hasn't held up well.

While MacAvoy certainly did a serviceable job of researching the background to this tale, I wish I could go back in time and snatch this out of the hands of the 14-year-old me. Toss him some Lovecraft. Or Leiber. Or Doc Smith.

Sigh.

First, the good: atmosphere. MacAvoy's good with her atmosphere, and her writing here is very disciplined. It's very convincing: you do sort of feel like you're in Renaissance Tuscany.

The problem: the story itself is so eff'ing corny. It's lame.

These books kind of remind me of Moorcock's Elric in that way: the stories have a great setup. Great character, very workable premise. You've got this sort of apprentice magician who's cast out on the world before he's quite ready.

But despite the intriguing premise, as soon as the action starts, the whole thing is impossibly silly. This happened with Elric too. In MacAvoy's case, the whole thing with the angels was unforgivably dumb. (Not to mention the sassy talking dog.)

This is from the back of the 3rd book: "Weakened by his contact with mortals, the Archangel Raphael falls prey to his brother Lucifer, who strips him of his angelic powers."

This plot line made no sense at all. For some reason I was willing to overlook it when I was 14, but I can't anymore. This is the kind of book I would hide under my desk whenever anybody came by, so that nobody would catch me reading it.

What I wish MacAvoy would do is simply ditch that angle, return to the character of the lute-toting Damiano, and have him getting in various scrapes and adventures in a slightly magicalized Europe right about the time of the Western Schism. That would be plenty.

Did I mention it had a sassy talking dog?

He was called Damiano Delstrego: wizard's son, alchemist, heir to dark magics. Yet he was also innocent, a young scholar and musician befriended by the Archangel Raphael, who instructed him in the lute.

To save his beloved city from war, Damiano left his cloistered life and set out on a pilgrimage, seeking the aid of the powerful sorceress Saara. But his road was filled with betrayal, disillusionment and death, and Damiano was forced to confront his dark-heritage, unleashing the hellish force of his awesome powers to protect those he loved.

Among 1983's most highly praised first novel, R.A. MacAvoy's Tea with the Black Dragon was called a "wonderful book" by Elizabeth Lynn and a "delight from cover onward" by Analog. With Damiano, MacAvoy begins the masterful saga of a man who must walk the narrow path between light and shadow. Be sure to read the two concluding volumes, Damiano's Lute and Raphael to complete the adventure!