It will come as no news, I suspect, to anyone here that the Lymond Chronicles is an exercise in Peter Wimsey fanfic. The surprising thing is that it comes as news to me. People must I think have told me, but for some reason it simply didn't stick.
Actually, The Game of Kings almost didn't stick; thirty pages in, I was more irritated than amused. A deluge of languages I don't speak and quotes I didn't recognise: I wasn't quite sure what Dunnett was doing, beyond channelling a more exaggerated Peter, but she surely wasn't telling me a story.
Still, I stayed with it, and was soon enough glad that I had, as it acquired merit of its own deserving, without ever letting go of its origin. I quote:
"My dear fool, why am I fighting you and denying you and hurting you except that I am so afraid of you, and of myself; because I love you far too well for peace and gentle harmonies... It's all right. My dear, it's all right. I am here: I love you: I will not leave you. None shall take it from us now."
And Lymond's not even there, that's Mariotta to the other brother, Richard. It's still pure Sayers.
Actually, The Game of Kings almost didn't stick; thirty pages in, I was more irritated than amused. A deluge of languages I don't speak and quotes I didn't recognise: I wasn't quite sure what Dunnett was doing, beyond channelling a more exaggerated Peter, but she surely wasn't telling me a story.
Still, I stayed with it, and was soon enough glad that I had, as it acquired merit of its own deserving, without ever letting go of its origin. I quote:
"My dear fool, why am I fighting you and denying you and hurting you except that I am so afraid of you, and of myself; because I love you far too well for peace and gentle harmonies... It's all right. My dear, it's all right. I am here: I love you: I will not leave you. None shall take it from us now."
And Lymond's not even there, that's Mariotta to the other brother, Richard. It's still pure Sayers.