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4.0étoiles sur 5
It has left an impression on me for a decade and more, Nov. 13 2001
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??
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5.0étoiles sur 5
A great trilogy by a writer who does not get enough credit, Sep 24 2000
A string buzzed against his fingernail; the finger itself slipped, and the beat was lost. Damiano muttered something that was a bit profane. "The problem isn't in your hand at all. It's here," said Damiano's teacher, and he laid his ivory hand on the young man's right shoulder. Damiano turned his head in surprise, his coarse black ringlets trailing over the fair skin of that hand. He shifted within his winter robe, which was colored like a tarnished brass coin and heavy as coins. The color suited Damiano, whose complexion was rather more warm than fair. "My shoulder is tight?" Damiano asked, knowing the answer already. He sighed and let his arm relax. His fingers slid limply across the yew-wood face of the liuto that lay propped on his right thigh. The sleeve of the robe, much longer than his arm and banded in scarlet, toppled over his wrist. He flipped the cloth up with a practiced, unconsdous movement that also managed to toss his tangle of hair back from his face. Damiano's hand, arm, and shoulder were slim and loosely jointed, as was the rest of him. 'Again?" he continued. "I thought I had overcome that tightness months ago." His eyes and eyelashes were as soft and black as the woolen mourning cloth that half the women of the town wore, and his eyes grew even blacker in his discouragement. He sighed once more. Raphael's grip on the youth tightened. He shook him gently, laughing, and drew Damiano against him. "You did. And you will overcome it again and again.
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5.0étoiles sur 5
Unique and Memorable Fantasy Trilogy, Aoû 14 2000
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.
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