Song for the Basilisk (Paperback)

~ (Author)

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

In most of McKillip's novels (Winter Rose, etc.) and short stories, this veteran author, a World Fantasy Award winner (for Forgotten Beasts of Eld, 1975), uses words in precisely the same way her mages do, to shape images and create fantastic visions where none previously existed. Sometimes the images are grotesque and violent, but more frequently they are ethereal and exquisite. McKillip's new novel is no exception. In it, a royal child escapes fire and certain execution by hiding in the ashes of the castle fireplace. Flame and death fill his mind and shape his thoughts so he is invisible to his enemies. After he is discovered, his rescuers rename him "Caladrius. After the bird whose song means death," and send him to the bards living on Luly, the music school on a rock at the end of the world. There he is called Rook. He masters the picochet, a peasant instrument, loves Sirina and begets Hollis, a son. Thirty-seven years pass and his family's enemy, Arioso Pellior, patriarch of the house of Basilisk, again reaches out his hand to crush any remaining members of the house of Tourmalyne. Rook remembers that his name is Griffin Tourmalyne and he journeys home. There he becomes an impetus for revolution and an inspiration for the royal opera, which draws the novel's principals together for a performance before the Basilisk and his family. McKillip is at the top of her form in this sweeping story about the redeeming powers of kindness and the potentially deadly beauty of music.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

From Library Journal

A young man denies his past for a life as a teacher of bards until a chain of events too compelling to ignore plunges him once more into a confrontation with the Prince of Berylon, who slaughtered an entire noble family to gain his throne. The author of Winter Rose (LJ 7/96) weaves a lyrical story of passion and revenge set in a Renaissance-like world where music and magic are one and the same. McKillip's luminous prose and compelling characters combine to produce a masterwork of style and substance. Highly recommended for most fantasy collections.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

See all Editorial Reviews

Product Details

• Paperback: 320 pages
• Publisher: Ace; Reprint edition (December 1, 1999)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0441006787
• ISBN-13: 978-0441006786
• Product Dimensions: 6.6 x 4.2 x 0.9 inches
• Shipping Weight: 3.2 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 4.4 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (32 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #582,196 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

  Popular in this category: (What's this?)

  #28 in

  Books > Science Fiction & Fantasy > Authors, A-Z > ( M ) > McKillip, Patricia A.

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

27 of 27 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars "Basilisk" has the logic and beauty of dreams, November 27, 2000

By	Diana Nier (Ithaca, NY, United States) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

"Song for the Basilisk" ties with the Riddle-Master trilogy for my favorite Patricia McKillip book. However, I would advise reading her other books before this one; it is not as easily accessible as some.

"Basilisk" is the story of Rook, a musician who lives with the bards of Luly and has avoided his past for over thirty years. Eventually he is forced to remember, and he travels to the city of Berylon to right a decades-old wrong done to his family.

But "Basilisk" is not a typical revenge quest, and it holds far more than Rook's story. It tells the stories of Guilia Dulcet, a musician from the provinces; of Justin, a young man with secret plans; of Luna Pellior, the Basilisk's mysterious and powerful daughter; of Hexel Barr, the distracted, irate composer; of Damiet Pellior, the Basilisk's other daughter; of Hollis, Rook's impatient and protective son; and other intriguing characters.

I have read this book many times, and each time it quickly pulls me into a dreamworld where everything is hidden or cast in a new light. Yes, the characterizations are subtle, and the magic is unexplained. Yes, the first few pages are confusing the first time. Yes, the story moves slowly. However, if you accept the book on its own terms, it is rewarding, and will linger with you for weeks.

This is one of the few books I can read over and over, and never find myself skipping ahead to the "good parts." The whole book is that good.

18 of 18 people found the following review helpful:

4.0 out of 5 stars Brilliant and complex, must be savored rather than gobbled, September 4, 2000

By	E. A. Lovitt "starmoth" (Gladwin, MI USA) - See all my reviews (TOP 50 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)

Amazon Verified Purchase

I tend to read fantasy novels at a gallop, eager to see what new trick or monster pops out at me on succeeding pages. Reading a good fantasy is usually like watching a good magic show: one surprise after another. There is suspense and breathless anticipation that is quickly resolved by the next sleight-of-hand.

However, Patricia McKillip's novels are not like a conjuror's act. They make you work. They make you read slowly. Her clues are subtle and woven into the beautiful, but dense thicket of her text. This is especially true in "Song for the Basilisk". The novel is every bit as complex and beautiful as its jacket painting by Kinuko Craft, but sometimes it made me feel like one of the princes trapped in the rose thicket outside of Sleeping Beauty's castle. I wanted to follow the little boy Rook from his hiding place in the ashes, through his coming-of-age as a bard, to his eventual confrontation with the monster who destroyed his family. But it was hard. I kept getting hooked on the beautiful scenery, and the complex subplots, and the other intricately fashioned characters. The ancient, blind Reve Iridia and her haunting music, and Luna Pellior, the Basilisk's daughter, were such strong and interesting characters that they positively upstaged Rook/Caladrius/Griffin every time they appeared with him on the same stage.

"Song for the Basilisk" is definitely worth reading, and savoring, and rereading. My only advice to the reader who is new to Patricia McKillip, is to start with her "The Riddlemaster of Hed" trilogy, or "The Book of Atrix Wolfe". They are equally magical books, but more accessible.

21 of 23 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars A prose opera, May 23, 2000

By	Celeste Chang (USA) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

Patricia McKillip has composed an opera purely of words. Don't let that description put you off: I don't generally like opera, but I loved this book. After the disappointing _Winter Rose_ and _The Book of Atrix Wolfe_, she's back at the peak of her form. The plot is pure opera: a ruthless tyrant, the Basilisk, massacres a rival family. The sole survivor, a young boy, crawls from the ashes and escapes into hiding in the far north, growing up with music and magic at the ancient school for bards. The Basilisk's gaze reaches even there, however, and the boy, now a grown man with a teenaged son of his own, is compelled to return to the city of his birth for revenge. There he meets the Basilisk's beautiful daughter (not to mention the Basilisk's brute of a son, the Basilisk's other, airheaded daughter, the Basilisk's court musicians and music director...). Wacky antics ensue.

Patricia McKillip's characters burst with life: they breathe, they bleed, they sing, they ineptly plot revolution, they play in palaces and taverns, they go on murderous rampages, they throw temper tantrums and wield strange magics. She creates some of the coolest musician characters I've ever read about. She goes one better on the er-hu, the two-stringed, bowed, Chinese peasant instrument, and gives us the picochet, a one-stringed, bowed, peasant instrument. It makes the crops grow, she tells us. Remembering my experience with my father's er-hu (I was only able to produce feeble, distressed whines), I empathized (and laughed helplessly) at the ordeals of the Basilisk's unmusical younger daughter (not to mention her teachers). At least the girl was blessed with shameless unselfconsciousness.

Patricia McKillip gives us an opera within the opera, one that reflects the main plotline much like Hamlet's play within the play, with even more startling effects when performed before the old tyrant. She shows us the process of composition, in loving detail, while the book itself is the performance. As always, McKillip knows exactly how to use her words. Her writing style is elegant, spare. In this book, she succeeds in creating a satisfying story to match the beauty of the prose.