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Navola
From the New York Times best-selling author of Wind-Up Girl and The Water Knife comes a sweeping literary fantasy about the young scion from a ruling class family who faces rebellion as he ascends to power.
"You must be as sharp as a stilettotore’s dagger and as subtle as a fish beneath the waters. This is what it is to be Navolese, this is what it is to be di Regulai."
In Navola, a bustling city-state dominated by a handful of influential families, business is power, and power is everything. For generations, the di Regulai family—merchant bankers with a vast empire—has nurtured tendrils that stretch to the farthest reaches of the known world. And though they claim not to be political, their staggering wealth has bought cities and toppled kingdoms. Soon, Davico di Regulai will be expected to take the reins of power from his father and demonstrate his mastery of the games of Navolese knowing who to trust and who to doubt, and how to read what lies hidden behind a smile. But in Navola, strange and ancient undercurrents lurk behind the gilt and grandeur—like the fossilized dragon eye in the family’s possession, a potent symbol of their raw power and a talisman that seems to be summoning Davico to act.
As tensions rise and the events unfold, Davico will be tested to his limits. His fate depends on the eldritch dragon relic and on what lies buried in the heart of his adopted sister, Celia di Balcosi, whose own family was destroyed by Nalova’s twisted politics. With echoes of Renaissance Italy, The Godfather , and Game of Thrones , Navola is a stunning feat of world-building and a mesmerizing depiction of drive and will.
"You must be as sharp as a stilettotore’s dagger and as subtle as a fish beneath the waters. This is what it is to be Navolese, this is what it is to be di Regulai."
In Navola, a bustling city-state dominated by a handful of influential families, business is power, and power is everything. For generations, the di Regulai family—merchant bankers with a vast empire—has nurtured tendrils that stretch to the farthest reaches of the known world. And though they claim not to be political, their staggering wealth has bought cities and toppled kingdoms. Soon, Davico di Regulai will be expected to take the reins of power from his father and demonstrate his mastery of the games of Navolese knowing who to trust and who to doubt, and how to read what lies hidden behind a smile. But in Navola, strange and ancient undercurrents lurk behind the gilt and grandeur—like the fossilized dragon eye in the family’s possession, a potent symbol of their raw power and a talisman that seems to be summoning Davico to act.
As tensions rise and the events unfold, Davico will be tested to his limits. His fate depends on the eldritch dragon relic and on what lies buried in the heart of his adopted sister, Celia di Balcosi, whose own family was destroyed by Nalova’s twisted politics. With echoes of Renaissance Italy, The Godfather , and Game of Thrones , Navola is a stunning feat of world-building and a mesmerizing depiction of drive and will.
576 pages, Hardcover
First published July 9, 2024
About the author
Paolo Bacigalupi
123 books4,743 followersPaolo Bacigalupi is an award-winning author of novels for adults and young people.
His debut novel THE WINDUP GIRL was named by TIME Magazine as one of the ten best novels of 2009, and also won the Hugo, Nebula, Locus, Compton Crook, and John W. Campbell Memorial Awards. Internationally, it has won the Seiun Award (Japan), The Ignotus Award (Spain), The Kurd-Laßwitz-Preis (Germany), and the Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire (France).
His debut young adult novel, SHIP BREAKER, was a Micheal L. Printz Award Winner, and a National Book Award Finalist, and its sequel, THE DROWNED CITIES, was a 2012 Kirkus Reviews Best of YA Book, A 2012 VOYA Perfect Ten Book, and 2012 Los Angeles Times Book Prize Finalist. The final book in the series, TOOL OF WAR, will release in October of 2017.
His latest novel for adults is The New York Times Bestseller THE WATER KNIFE, a near-future thriller about climate change and drought in the southwestern United States.
His debut novel THE WINDUP GIRL was named by TIME Magazine as one of the ten best novels of 2009, and also won the Hugo, Nebula, Locus, Compton Crook, and John W. Campbell Memorial Awards. Internationally, it has won the Seiun Award (Japan), The Ignotus Award (Spain), The Kurd-Laßwitz-Preis (Germany), and the Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire (France).
His debut young adult novel, SHIP BREAKER, was a Micheal L. Printz Award Winner, and a National Book Award Finalist, and its sequel, THE DROWNED CITIES, was a 2012 Kirkus Reviews Best of YA Book, A 2012 VOYA Perfect Ten Book, and 2012 Los Angeles Times Book Prize Finalist. The final book in the series, TOOL OF WAR, will release in October of 2017.
His latest novel for adults is The New York Times Bestseller THE WATER KNIFE, a near-future thriller about climate change and drought in the southwestern United States.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 213 reviews
March 5, 2024
(This is a review of an ARC from Netgalley and the publisher Head of Zeus.)
A weird one this. I suppose you’d file it under F-for-fantasy: there is a dragon’s eye on the cover, after all. But in this world, which is something like Renaissance Italian City States through a glass darkly, the dragons seem long gone, and the eye is a relic, a fossil—or is it? The publishers call it “literary fantasy”, so this is like lit-fantasy or fantasy-lit(e).
It’s surprising, anyway, how many literary classics contain genre elements. Ghosts at windows, uncanny omniscience, time loops… For me, Navola resembles historical fiction. It’s like one of those recipes where you add a mere grating of truffle: historical fiction with a hint of dragon.
Our viewpoint character is Davico di Regulai, only son of a powerful family of bankers. (Think the Medicis, and Florence and plotting and poison and stilettos.) Navola is a city state republic, ruled by 100 prominent people, but the most prominent of them all is Davico’s father Devonaci, who plays 4-dimensional chess: not only does he manipulate you now, but he knows what you will do when you decide to defy him further down the line. The great banker has trusted friends: an assassin as well as an administrator on his staff, and soldiers, as well as a slave-consort who runs his household. On the other hand, he is surrounded by enemies, and you never know who is going to turn on you with poison, dagger, or poisoned dagger.
Davico is a reluctant heir; he’d rather be out in the woods gathering herbs and fungi and learning to be a physician. He reminds me of Prince Herbert in Monty Python and the Holy Grail (“I just want to… sing!”). But a bodyguard follows wherever he goes, and learn the family business he must. Most importantly, he needs to learn how to read the people who will always be asking for money and looking for ways not to repay it. One worry he obviously has is who to trust. His father’s men protect him, but they serve his father—and who of his own generation will be as loyal and trustworthy? He is alone, frequently unhappy, and (as you might expect if you read a lot of fantasy) slow on the uptake. Like Fitz in Robin Hobb’s Farseer series, or Simon in Tad Williams’ Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. But at least those two have the excuse of being of “low” birth. Davico is one of those characters who stretches your credulity because you think, oh, come on, surely you’ve learned by now?
One noble who tries it on with Devonaci ends up losing almost everything, including his older daughter Celia, who is taken as a hostage and adopted as Davico’s sister. She is a pawn in the great game, of course, and about halfway through I started worrying for her future. I was thinking of Lucrezia de’ Medici, married at 14 to the Duke of Ferrara and dead shortly after her 16th birthday. Dead, according to Robert Browning, because she smiled too easily.
A feature of Navola is the frequent use of words and phrases which (forgive my ignorance) seem to be in a kind of mediaeval Italian dialect or kind-of Latin. You can usually tell what they mean from the context, or from repetition, or simply because they’re repeated in English, but I wonder if the final published version of this will have a glossary, or some kind of Author’s Note explaining the dialect. You get words like exomentissimo, which if you put in a space between exo and the rest means (in Latin) something like “I went out of my mind” or (from the context), “I was out of my mind”. I didn’t find it annoying, but curiosity did drive me to the Latin translator in the app on my phone rather than the built-in Kindle translator, which can’t manage Latin.
The (576 print pages) book feels like a labour of love, but here’s what I wonder. There’s been a lot of discourse lately about worldbuilding on the socials, with lots of back and forth about following rules, and so on. Someone mentioned M John Harrison’s (since deleted but much quoted) critique of world building, which seemed to be along the lines of: too much worldbuilding gets in the way of writing. The choice line is that worldbuilding is, “the great clomping foot of nerdism.” I do see the argument. I teach my students about how readers are the ones who create meanings, a theory that has had various names: reception theory, text world theory, and so on. The point is, that a writer can provide a mere sketch of a world and the reader can fill it in. The flipside of that is that the author can’t control reception, so what the reader fills in might be… different.
But epic fantasy tends to go in for hundreds of pages of expository world-building, giving us the history, the religion, the culture, and more. It’s what fantasy fans expect. There’s a scene early in Navola, when Davico’s tutor in all things banking, Merio, takes him outside for a look at a mural and an information dump of family history.
It’s a hard balance to strike. Here am I asking for a glossary of not-quite-Italian dialect (and I’d love a map, too), while at the same time wishing we could just be thrown into the deep end of the world and work it out as we go.
When I read Lord of the Rings, as I have done on several occasions, I know by now that I can skim/skip through loads of pages that deliver lore and history that I just don’t need. On the other hand, there’s power in letting the reader become familiar with the lead character and his world, and allowing the stakes and the tension to build up in what feels like a naturalistic way. We’re here to be in this fully-realised world and not charging full pelt for the ending.
So: I’d recommend this if you find many fantasy tropes overwhelming—or overused. As I said above, this feels like a historical novel that dips its toes in fantasy. Don’t come here anticipating magicians and portals; expect something more like Renaissance intrigue. For sure, there is that dragon’s eye (and on the very first page), but what it is and why it is there is something you will have to wait for.
A weird one this. I suppose you’d file it under F-for-fantasy: there is a dragon’s eye on the cover, after all. But in this world, which is something like Renaissance Italian City States through a glass darkly, the dragons seem long gone, and the eye is a relic, a fossil—or is it? The publishers call it “literary fantasy”, so this is like lit-fantasy or fantasy-lit(e).
It’s surprising, anyway, how many literary classics contain genre elements. Ghosts at windows, uncanny omniscience, time loops… For me, Navola resembles historical fiction. It’s like one of those recipes where you add a mere grating of truffle: historical fiction with a hint of dragon.
Our viewpoint character is Davico di Regulai, only son of a powerful family of bankers. (Think the Medicis, and Florence and plotting and poison and stilettos.) Navola is a city state republic, ruled by 100 prominent people, but the most prominent of them all is Davico’s father Devonaci, who plays 4-dimensional chess: not only does he manipulate you now, but he knows what you will do when you decide to defy him further down the line. The great banker has trusted friends: an assassin as well as an administrator on his staff, and soldiers, as well as a slave-consort who runs his household. On the other hand, he is surrounded by enemies, and you never know who is going to turn on you with poison, dagger, or poisoned dagger.
Davico is a reluctant heir; he’d rather be out in the woods gathering herbs and fungi and learning to be a physician. He reminds me of Prince Herbert in Monty Python and the Holy Grail (“I just want to… sing!”). But a bodyguard follows wherever he goes, and learn the family business he must. Most importantly, he needs to learn how to read the people who will always be asking for money and looking for ways not to repay it. One worry he obviously has is who to trust. His father’s men protect him, but they serve his father—and who of his own generation will be as loyal and trustworthy? He is alone, frequently unhappy, and (as you might expect if you read a lot of fantasy) slow on the uptake. Like Fitz in Robin Hobb’s Farseer series, or Simon in Tad Williams’ Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn. But at least those two have the excuse of being of “low” birth. Davico is one of those characters who stretches your credulity because you think, oh, come on, surely you’ve learned by now?
One noble who tries it on with Devonaci ends up losing almost everything, including his older daughter Celia, who is taken as a hostage and adopted as Davico’s sister. She is a pawn in the great game, of course, and about halfway through I started worrying for her future. I was thinking of Lucrezia de’ Medici, married at 14 to the Duke of Ferrara and dead shortly after her 16th birthday. Dead, according to Robert Browning, because she smiled too easily.
A feature of Navola is the frequent use of words and phrases which (forgive my ignorance) seem to be in a kind of mediaeval Italian dialect or kind-of Latin. You can usually tell what they mean from the context, or from repetition, or simply because they’re repeated in English, but I wonder if the final published version of this will have a glossary, or some kind of Author’s Note explaining the dialect. You get words like exomentissimo, which if you put in a space between exo and the rest means (in Latin) something like “I went out of my mind” or (from the context), “I was out of my mind”. I didn’t find it annoying, but curiosity did drive me to the Latin translator in the app on my phone rather than the built-in Kindle translator, which can’t manage Latin.
The (576 print pages) book feels like a labour of love, but here’s what I wonder. There’s been a lot of discourse lately about worldbuilding on the socials, with lots of back and forth about following rules, and so on. Someone mentioned M John Harrison’s (since deleted but much quoted) critique of world building, which seemed to be along the lines of: too much worldbuilding gets in the way of writing. The choice line is that worldbuilding is, “the great clomping foot of nerdism.” I do see the argument. I teach my students about how readers are the ones who create meanings, a theory that has had various names: reception theory, text world theory, and so on. The point is, that a writer can provide a mere sketch of a world and the reader can fill it in. The flipside of that is that the author can’t control reception, so what the reader fills in might be… different.
But epic fantasy tends to go in for hundreds of pages of expository world-building, giving us the history, the religion, the culture, and more. It’s what fantasy fans expect. There’s a scene early in Navola, when Davico’s tutor in all things banking, Merio, takes him outside for a look at a mural and an information dump of family history.
It’s a hard balance to strike. Here am I asking for a glossary of not-quite-Italian dialect (and I’d love a map, too), while at the same time wishing we could just be thrown into the deep end of the world and work it out as we go.
When I read Lord of the Rings, as I have done on several occasions, I know by now that I can skim/skip through loads of pages that deliver lore and history that I just don’t need. On the other hand, there’s power in letting the reader become familiar with the lead character and his world, and allowing the stakes and the tension to build up in what feels like a naturalistic way. We’re here to be in this fully-realised world and not charging full pelt for the ending.
So: I’d recommend this if you find many fantasy tropes overwhelming—or overused. As I said above, this feels like a historical novel that dips its toes in fantasy. Don’t come here anticipating magicians and portals; expect something more like Renaissance intrigue. For sure, there is that dragon’s eye (and on the very first page), but what it is and why it is there is something you will have to wait for.
May 4, 2024
I found this to be a slow and frustrating read. A kind of Game of thrones style fantasy set in a sort of city state Italian world except it’s far from GoT as there’s only one point of view and that narrator is probably the most boring character in the book and his knowledge of the motivations of all the other characters is completely lacking. The fantasy bit is a dragon eye and it’s barely used here (I assume with the open ending further books in a series will expand on this part). When it’s good it was great but nothing really happens till about halfway through, and the last quarter or so is definitely worth the read but it took so long to get there! So most of the book is world building and frustratingly slow but I kept reading because there was the promise of something good. Disappointing.
June 26, 2024
This was not at all what I expected from the new Bacigalupi, but I really, really enjoyed it!
It's far more like Guy Gavriel Kay that many of his earlier books (I believe I have read all of both of those authors' books to date).
It's a Renaissance-Italy-inspired tale with a good amount of complexity and intrigue, excellent characterization, and only a very small amount of the fantastic to add a bit of spice and mystery.
Will definitely read any sequels, as I love Bacigalupi's writing and this is one of my favorite fiction genres.
It's far more like Guy Gavriel Kay that many of his earlier books (I believe I have read all of both of those authors' books to date).
It's a Renaissance-Italy-inspired tale with a good amount of complexity and intrigue, excellent characterization, and only a very small amount of the fantastic to add a bit of spice and mystery.
Will definitely read any sequels, as I love Bacigalupi's writing and this is one of my favorite fiction genres.
July 2, 2024
To be honest, this book has its ups and downs with some beautiful writing, some horrifying violence, and some deadly dull spots. The first half of the book is all about building this fantasy world that seems drawn from the days of the Italian Renaissance. Navola is a city state ruled by money, greed and political maneuvering. To succeed, one needs to be skilled at the art of 'faccioscuro'--to see behind a pleasant face to see hidden thoughts and intentions.
The story is told through the eyes of the Davico, the only child of Devonaci di Regula da Navola, a wealthy merchant banker who currently controls the city. The action finally begins at about the 50% mark at Davico's Name Day celebration, sort of his 'coming out' party. Now Davico is considered to be a man with responsibilities but even though he's been well-trained in all the arts, he remains naive, inexperienced and rather clueless, without the innate skills needed to be a powerful man's heir. Perhaps this is the excuse needed for schemers to make their move...
You may be wondering if this is actually historical fiction, loosely based on medieval times. But the touch of fantasy comes through with Davico's unique connection to the dragon's eye that his father keeps on his desk. It plays an important role at certain key moments. Very interesting conclusion which leaves the door open to further adventures.
Warnings for the story: Violence and some explicit sex.
Many thanks to the author and publisher for providing me with an arc via NetGalley. My review is voluntary and the opinions expressed are my own.
The story is told through the eyes of the Davico, the only child of Devonaci di Regula da Navola, a wealthy merchant banker who currently controls the city. The action finally begins at about the 50% mark at Davico's Name Day celebration, sort of his 'coming out' party. Now Davico is considered to be a man with responsibilities but even though he's been well-trained in all the arts, he remains naive, inexperienced and rather clueless, without the innate skills needed to be a powerful man's heir. Perhaps this is the excuse needed for schemers to make their move...
You may be wondering if this is actually historical fiction, loosely based on medieval times. But the touch of fantasy comes through with Davico's unique connection to the dragon's eye that his father keeps on his desk. It plays an important role at certain key moments. Very interesting conclusion which leaves the door open to further adventures.
Warnings for the story: Violence and some explicit sex.
Many thanks to the author and publisher for providing me with an arc via NetGalley. My review is voluntary and the opinions expressed are my own.
August 29, 2024
Absolutely brilliant. Longer review to come.
April 6, 2024
Navola is clearly going for a very particular vibe. If you’re here for it, it’s going to be a great read. If not, don’t bother.
So what’s the vibe? It’s a dark historical/political fantasy, with all the slow-pacing, careful worldbuilding (including faux-Italian sprinkled liberally through the text), and violence (including both torture and sexual violence) that entails.
This takes place in Not Renaissance Not Italy, following the reluctant heir of a powerful banking family as he grows up trying to fill his father’s immense shoes. It’s a slow-paced tale that lingers a while in childhood, but the writing quality is high enough that it never feels like a chore, even when not much is happening from a plot perspective.
And when things do happen? It gets explosive and impossible to put down. Mostly historical fantasy, with a hint of the magical. Definitely a series starter—there’s no neat conclusion here—but with enough plot progression to justify its existence as its own novel.
Only giving a glimpse of a complete arc and taking a long time to spin up are only minor dings in my eyes, though they may be deal-breakers for others. But if that’s the kind of story you want, this one is really excellent.
First impression: 17/20. Full review to come at www.tarvolon.com
So what’s the vibe? It’s a dark historical/political fantasy, with all the slow-pacing, careful worldbuilding (including faux-Italian sprinkled liberally through the text), and violence (including both torture and sexual violence) that entails.
This takes place in Not Renaissance Not Italy, following the reluctant heir of a powerful banking family as he grows up trying to fill his father’s immense shoes. It’s a slow-paced tale that lingers a while in childhood, but the writing quality is high enough that it never feels like a chore, even when not much is happening from a plot perspective.
And when things do happen? It gets explosive and impossible to put down. Mostly historical fantasy, with a hint of the magical. Definitely a series starter—there’s no neat conclusion here—but with enough plot progression to justify its existence as its own novel.
Only giving a glimpse of a complete arc and taking a long time to spin up are only minor dings in my eyes, though they may be deal-breakers for others. But if that’s the kind of story you want, this one is really excellent.
First impression: 17/20. Full review to come at www.tarvolon.com
February 28, 2024
Menudo aburrimiento soberano ha resultado «Navola», la nueva novela de Paolo Bacigalupi. Poquita fantasía y un personaje principal con 0 carisma. Lo que prometía intrigas palaciegas y politiqueos termina en una historia sin ninguna trascendencia. Y, encima, con final abierto.
Aunque hay un par de momentos que la novela quiere remontar, enseguida vuelve a caer en la rutina del protagonista lamentándose por no valer para nada. Y así seiscientas páginas. Por no hablar de todos los elementos desaprovechados, como el ojo de dragón de la portada. Decepción.
Aunque hay un par de momentos que la novela quiere remontar, enseguida vuelve a caer en la rutina del protagonista lamentándose por no valer para nada. Y así seiscientas páginas. Por no hablar de todos los elementos desaprovechados, como el ojo de dragón de la portada. Decepción.
Shelved as 'dnf'
July 12, 2024I was eager to read this until I read that it's The Godfather meets Game of Thrones. Nope. The WaPo offers a different view: "The promotional copy for 'Navola' unsurprisingly proclaims its similarity to “Game of Thrones,” but those comparisons may do it a disservice." So, maybe I'm back on. I began reading science fiction in college for a fictional reality in which gender is not destiny. This book, a riff on the de Medici family (?), won't be that.
May 10, 2024
Dune by way of the Medicis and Game of Thrones — it's compelling, but also a fairly brutal loss-of-innocence story that rehashes some well-worn plot beats. Navola's too well-written for me not to rate it well, but a lot rests on where Bacigalupi goes with a (putative) sequel; the story's complete enough not to require a follow-up, but it’s not yet clear what the point of all that intricate awfulness was.
————
Davico, our narrator, is both Navola’s saving grace and one of the main reasons I found it hard to read, even allowing for the book’s already copious violence — he’s tremendously relatable and even more obviously doomed. Born near the top of a Navolese elite absolutely obsessed with deceit and manipulation, Davico’s emotionally open, basically honest, and much more interested in nature than power. He’s clever enough to see he’s fundamentally unsuited to life as heir to the di Regulai bank and observant enough to see where some of the real threats lie, but too weak to escape his patrimony or his own personality before they wreck him. It’s so very, very hard to watch, basically most of the worst parts of being an introvert in middle school but with unimaginably higher stakes. And like Paul Atreides, whose arc he roughly follows, Davico survives only at the cost of becoming a monster.
Although I’d normally ding a book like this for having such an obvious link to Herbert and its other influences, I get the feeling Bacigalupi isn’t trying particularly hard to be original here. After all, Navola's setting is a barely-reskinned version of early Renaissance Italy, with merchant banks vying for monopolies on silks from Xim, spices from Zurom, and furs from Wustholt, absolutely no prizes for guessing what real-world countries those are meant to be. There’s a big dragon’s eye on the cover so we know it’s fantasy, but all the historical analogies and elegantly-phrased vulgarities in I Can’t Believe It’s Not Italian seem designed to assure the reader we’re sticking close to reality, that there’s a lesson in here worth taking into the real world.
Which all leads to the question facing grimdark (or grimdark-adjacent) books like this: what exactly are we supposed to learn here? It doesn’t seem Bacigalupi is actually trying to convince us that might makes right or that there’s much point in his noble families’ endlessly bloody pursuit of power, but there’s just no escape from all the murder, rape and revenge. Indeed, after starting out as an interesting, if queasy, exercise in how to keep one’s soul in a world that sees authenticity as a liability, Navola ends up looking like just another revenge story with good writing. I have hope Bacigalupi can backfill some thematic depth and purpose here if he produces a sequel, but for the time being we’re left with a lot of sound and fury maybe signifying…something?
————
Davico, our narrator, is both Navola’s saving grace and one of the main reasons I found it hard to read, even allowing for the book’s already copious violence — he’s tremendously relatable and even more obviously doomed. Born near the top of a Navolese elite absolutely obsessed with deceit and manipulation, Davico’s emotionally open, basically honest, and much more interested in nature than power. He’s clever enough to see he’s fundamentally unsuited to life as heir to the di Regulai bank and observant enough to see where some of the real threats lie, but too weak to escape his patrimony or his own personality before they wreck him. It’s so very, very hard to watch, basically most of the worst parts of being an introvert in middle school but with unimaginably higher stakes. And like Paul Atreides, whose arc he roughly follows, Davico survives only at the cost of becoming a monster.
Although I’d normally ding a book like this for having such an obvious link to Herbert and its other influences, I get the feeling Bacigalupi isn’t trying particularly hard to be original here. After all, Navola's setting is a barely-reskinned version of early Renaissance Italy, with merchant banks vying for monopolies on silks from Xim, spices from Zurom, and furs from Wustholt, absolutely no prizes for guessing what real-world countries those are meant to be. There’s a big dragon’s eye on the cover so we know it’s fantasy, but all the historical analogies and elegantly-phrased vulgarities in I Can’t Believe It’s Not Italian seem designed to assure the reader we’re sticking close to reality, that there’s a lesson in here worth taking into the real world.
Which all leads to the question facing grimdark (or grimdark-adjacent) books like this: what exactly are we supposed to learn here? It doesn’t seem Bacigalupi is actually trying to convince us that might makes right or that there’s much point in his noble families’ endlessly bloody pursuit of power, but there’s just no escape from all the murder, rape and revenge. Indeed, after starting out as an interesting, if queasy, exercise in how to keep one’s soul in a world that sees authenticity as a liability, Navola ends up looking like just another revenge story with good writing. I have hope Bacigalupi can backfill some thematic depth and purpose here if he produces a sequel, but for the time being we’re left with a lot of sound and fury maybe signifying…something?
July 18, 2024
Navola is a purported “literary” fantasy set in a city-state dominated by powerful merchant families. The story follows Davico di Regulai, a young member of one such powerful family, as he navigates the political struggles of Navola, and as he prepares to take over his family's [accounting] empire. Davico faces rebellion and intrigue, with his fate apparently intertwined with both a dragon relic and his adopted sister, Celia.
The opening is weighed down by all the world-specific terms and names, based heavily on an Italian-Latin root system. It’s a lot to take in at once and hard to keep track of them all. It doesn’t NOT feel like when someone in a comedy is speaking nonsense pseudo-Spanish by amending each and every English word with -o. It’s unfortunate that it’s so liberally applied, because it gives an easy springboard into the desire to skim-read.
The narrative style is also somewhat unusual, though I feel like we’re seeing this more and more often, as of late, as the author directly addresses the reader with “you.” This choice might work in certain contexts, but here it adds to the overall confusion without providing much clarity or immersion.
Despite being set in a fantasy world with an Italian city-state foundation, Navola doesn't deliver a compelling plot or strong character development. Davico is the typical empty vessel that many main characters of this kind of fantasy novel with a historical bent seem to favor. But I think Bacigalupi takes it too far and Davico really needed some proper fleshing out and purpose. Without an anchor of some kind of conflict — at least for the first half of this nearly 600 pager, the story seems aimless, neither driven by events nor by deep character arcs, as if uncertain of its own direction and intention.
That dragon's eye, prominently featured on the cover and in the book's opening, turns out to be a minor element in the narrative. It is briefly mentioned as a relic or a fossil, and some bits of lore are bandied about here and there, but it’s basically a glorified paperweight for the majority of the book. Such a missed opportunity to develop a more intriguing fantasy element, instead clearly setting up the rest of the books more than allowing this book to stand on its own. Overall, a challenging, cumbersome read that doesn’t quite achieve its potential.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review.
The opening is weighed down by all the world-specific terms and names, based heavily on an Italian-Latin root system. It’s a lot to take in at once and hard to keep track of them all. It doesn’t NOT feel like when someone in a comedy is speaking nonsense pseudo-Spanish by amending each and every English word with -o. It’s unfortunate that it’s so liberally applied, because it gives an easy springboard into the desire to skim-read.
The narrative style is also somewhat unusual, though I feel like we’re seeing this more and more often, as of late, as the author directly addresses the reader with “you.” This choice might work in certain contexts, but here it adds to the overall confusion without providing much clarity or immersion.
Despite being set in a fantasy world with an Italian city-state foundation, Navola doesn't deliver a compelling plot or strong character development. Davico is the typical empty vessel that many main characters of this kind of fantasy novel with a historical bent seem to favor. But I think Bacigalupi takes it too far and Davico really needed some proper fleshing out and purpose. Without an anchor of some kind of conflict — at least for the first half of this nearly 600 pager, the story seems aimless, neither driven by events nor by deep character arcs, as if uncertain of its own direction and intention.
That dragon's eye, prominently featured on the cover and in the book's opening, turns out to be a minor element in the narrative. It is briefly mentioned as a relic or a fossil, and some bits of lore are bandied about here and there, but it’s basically a glorified paperweight for the majority of the book. Such a missed opportunity to develop a more intriguing fantasy element, instead clearly setting up the rest of the books more than allowing this book to stand on its own. Overall, a challenging, cumbersome read that doesn’t quite achieve its potential.
I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This affected neither my opinion of the book nor the content of my review.
July 18, 2024
3.5 stars rounded up
This is a very hard book to rate. The prose is excellent, and the world incredibly fascinating. I loved the mythology and the politics, but I found the protagonist terribly frustrating. He's extremely passive, to the point where this didn't even feel like his story. I would have liked this much more if we'd followed Celia instead, of even his father.
I recommend checking this book out if you're a fan of political fantasy, and have a strong stomach, as it's very violent in places.
I received an advance copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review
This is a very hard book to rate. The prose is excellent, and the world incredibly fascinating. I loved the mythology and the politics, but I found the protagonist terribly frustrating. He's extremely passive, to the point where this didn't even feel like his story. I would have liked this much more if we'd followed Celia instead, of even his father.
I recommend checking this book out if you're a fan of political fantasy, and have a strong stomach, as it's very violent in places.
I received an advance copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review
June 10, 2024
I’m not sure I’d call this book historical fantasy so much as maybe political fantasy?
I got excited about the dragons, I mean there’s an eye on the cover. But this book is 90% politics. Not in a bad way, just not quite what I expected. The plot moved a little slow, but was still enough to keep my attention. And it picked up a good bit at the end. I’m curious enough to read the next one, but I can’t say I recommend this one to everyone. Maybe only read it if you like *dense* books. The writing is excellent though, which makes up for a bit of the dense.
I received an advance copy from the publisher, all opinions are my own and a review was not required.
I got excited about the dragons, I mean there’s an eye on the cover. But this book is 90% politics. Not in a bad way, just not quite what I expected. The plot moved a little slow, but was still enough to keep my attention. And it picked up a good bit at the end. I’m curious enough to read the next one, but I can’t say I recommend this one to everyone. Maybe only read it if you like *dense* books. The writing is excellent though, which makes up for a bit of the dense.
I received an advance copy from the publisher, all opinions are my own and a review was not required.
January 31, 2024
3.5 stars, Metaphorosis reviews
Summary
In the city of Navola, Davico DiRegulai is the heir to the quiet power that controls the city and much of the region. But the DiRegulai legacy is one of trickery and violence, and Davico is a poor fit.
Review
For some years, I confused Paolo Bacigalupi and Christopher Paolini – for no reason other than that I knew nothing about either and both had Paol in their names. Gradually, though, it seeped through that they were different people, and that I kept hearing good things about Bacigalupi. So, I took this opportunity to read one of his books. It’s not what I expected. One of the mentions of Bacigalupi that I kept seeing mentioned his book, The Windup Girl. I still haven’t read it, but perhaps I should have started there.
Navola, rather to my surprise, relies heavily on Italianate language and references. On the one hand, that’s great – I can’t think of many other English language books that do this, and it was a fun chance to exercise my long-rusty Italian skills. On the other hand, it’s so heavily Italian inspired that it felt often like a Neapolitan alternate history rather than a third-world speculative story. That’s in part because there’s very little actual magic in this fantasy story; it’s much more on the Mary Stewart Crystal Cave line than, say, J.V. Jones’ Baker’s Boy. That’s fine in itself (sometimes a plus), but I frankly felt that if I knew more of the history of the Italian peninsula, I’d recognize a lot of what was happening. It seemed to me from very early on that there were echoes of Naples, Rome, the Borgias, Leonardo Da Vinci, and a host of other (not always contemporaneous) matters. For me, that real world similarity made the book much less interesting.
Bacigalupi is certainly a skilled writer. The prose is rich and flows smoothly. However, I would also have liked to feel much more engaged by his protagonist and other characters. There was a distance and almost clinical/mechanical feel to things that kept me from really investing as I’d have wanted to. Also, while the Italianate references were fun for me, I felt a non-Italian speaker would have been fairly confused at times.
The base story – person growing up to defy expectations – is a familiar one, but often here felt subsumed to the descriptions of Machiavellian intrigue and manipulations. I wish, honestly, that Bacigalupi had brought this personal element more to the fore. To my mind, that would have made a more engaging and involving story.
Overall, interesting, and obviously a help in properly identifying Bacigalupi. But I’m not sure that I feel a need to go on to his other books. I’m willing, but, on the basis of this one, will likely not search him out. If the opportunity does arise, I’ll look for a book that’s more firmly either fantasy or science fiction, and less alternate history. This one was well written, but not gripping.
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.
Summary
In the city of Navola, Davico DiRegulai is the heir to the quiet power that controls the city and much of the region. But the DiRegulai legacy is one of trickery and violence, and Davico is a poor fit.
Review
For some years, I confused Paolo Bacigalupi and Christopher Paolini – for no reason other than that I knew nothing about either and both had Paol in their names. Gradually, though, it seeped through that they were different people, and that I kept hearing good things about Bacigalupi. So, I took this opportunity to read one of his books. It’s not what I expected. One of the mentions of Bacigalupi that I kept seeing mentioned his book, The Windup Girl. I still haven’t read it, but perhaps I should have started there.
Navola, rather to my surprise, relies heavily on Italianate language and references. On the one hand, that’s great – I can’t think of many other English language books that do this, and it was a fun chance to exercise my long-rusty Italian skills. On the other hand, it’s so heavily Italian inspired that it felt often like a Neapolitan alternate history rather than a third-world speculative story. That’s in part because there’s very little actual magic in this fantasy story; it’s much more on the Mary Stewart Crystal Cave line than, say, J.V. Jones’ Baker’s Boy. That’s fine in itself (sometimes a plus), but I frankly felt that if I knew more of the history of the Italian peninsula, I’d recognize a lot of what was happening. It seemed to me from very early on that there were echoes of Naples, Rome, the Borgias, Leonardo Da Vinci, and a host of other (not always contemporaneous) matters. For me, that real world similarity made the book much less interesting.
Bacigalupi is certainly a skilled writer. The prose is rich and flows smoothly. However, I would also have liked to feel much more engaged by his protagonist and other characters. There was a distance and almost clinical/mechanical feel to things that kept me from really investing as I’d have wanted to. Also, while the Italianate references were fun for me, I felt a non-Italian speaker would have been fairly confused at times.
The base story – person growing up to defy expectations – is a familiar one, but often here felt subsumed to the descriptions of Machiavellian intrigue and manipulations. I wish, honestly, that Bacigalupi had brought this personal element more to the fore. To my mind, that would have made a more engaging and involving story.
Overall, interesting, and obviously a help in properly identifying Bacigalupi. But I’m not sure that I feel a need to go on to his other books. I’m willing, but, on the basis of this one, will likely not search him out. If the opportunity does arise, I’ll look for a book that’s more firmly either fantasy or science fiction, and less alternate history. This one was well written, but not gripping.
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.
July 18, 2024
4.5 Wow! Such a carefully crafted book : like a piece of Renaissance art ! The writing was phenomenal . I loved every second of it, even if the begginning was reeeeeealy slow. The last 25% left me speechless.
August 30, 2024
Italy city-state foundation setting and political complexity somewhat REMINISCENT of GoT but NOWHERE NEAR THE GENIUS, INTRIGUE, OR COMPLEXITY OF GoT!!! The plot and character development couldn’t be less compelling and if they refer to a guy’s penis as “root” one more time, I will kms
June 16, 2024
Navola masterfully blends intricate world-building with a gripping narrative, immersing readers in an Italy-esque city-state brimming with power struggles and hidden dangers. The setting, reminiscent of Renaissance Italy, adds authenticity and creates a world that is both familiar and unique.
The story’s gradual pacing allows for deep immersion into the world of Navola. This slow build mirrors Davico's journey, drawing readers into the intricacies of political machinations and personal revelations. As the plot accelerates, both Davico and the reader are plunged into a whirlwind of intrigue, betrayal, and suspense.
The cast of characters is well-developed, each operating with their own hidden motivations and agendas. The dynamics of power, family loyalty, and ambition are explored with nuance, adding richness to the narrative.
Navola is a remarkable literary fantasy, offering a captivating blend of world-building, character development, and plot complexity. It is deeply engaging and thought-provoking, making it a must read.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the ARC.
The story’s gradual pacing allows for deep immersion into the world of Navola. This slow build mirrors Davico's journey, drawing readers into the intricacies of political machinations and personal revelations. As the plot accelerates, both Davico and the reader are plunged into a whirlwind of intrigue, betrayal, and suspense.
The cast of characters is well-developed, each operating with their own hidden motivations and agendas. The dynamics of power, family loyalty, and ambition are explored with nuance, adding richness to the narrative.
Navola is a remarkable literary fantasy, offering a captivating blend of world-building, character development, and plot complexity. It is deeply engaging and thought-provoking, making it a must read.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for the ARC.
January 19, 2024
Full review to come, but am curious to see how this pans out as a series. Definitely a story that feels mildly incomplete and more like a precursor for a larger, more epic saga.
August 18, 2024
7/10 stars
My full review on my blog.
The newest novel by the author of The Wind-Up Girl and The Water Knife promises an immersion into a faux Italian Renaissance, full of warring city-states, a growing power of banks and merchants, and a little bit of fantasy. Actually, the cover promises a lot more than just a little, that baleful red eye gloriously resplendent on the creamy, delicately sculptured background. What it delivers, however, is a more of a mixed message. The alternate Italian Renaissance is indeed delivered as promised, obsessively detailed, fully realised, rich and evocative in every aspect, from the almost tactile depictions of cloths and nature to sharp observations of social mores and behaviour – Bacigalupi even goes as far as inventing his own version of Italian language and embellishes the culture with a pantheon of ancient agrarian gods, not too far from the actual Roman deities. But the author of The Wind-Up Girl would not have been himself if he hadn’t added a smear of blood and shit on that canvas – and, dear reader, better prepare yourself for the typical Bacigalupi penchant for lovingly detailed and vivid descriptions of torture, debasement, misery and suffering.
I could end my review here, but where would be fun in that :). Let me say, then, that the novel is long, and it feels even longer. That the main protagonist is a teenager, and Bacigalupi even for a moment doesn’t let us forget about that painful fact – Davico is a teenager engulfed in a hormonal storm, stupid, impulsive, focused entirely on himself, and, later, also on the object of his affection. The depiction of his emotional and physiological states is very realistic indeed, but that’s a small solace for the suffering reader, who must endure pages upon pages of the teenage angst, shortsightedness, and wildly seesawing feelings. I was close to DNFing this book two times, the first out of boredom, the second out of exasperation with Davico’s mulish stupidity.
So why didn’t I? Simple. Bacigalupi is a good writer. Oh, he has issues, his obsessive love for describing human suffering and cruelty is definitely way beyond any norm, but his style is easy and engaging, the words on the page seem to flow effortlessly, and his attention to detail, which he uses skillfully to create immersive, lush and believable worlds, is truly impressive. I enjoyed reading about his alternate Renaissance Italy, the rise and fall of the merchant clans, the bitter biting reaction from the nobles, the politics of Navola which so closely mirrored the history. I also appreciated the tiny drop of fantasy making ever bigger circles on the surface of Navola’s reality – and this slowly growing presence, Davico’s believable if painful development, and his quest for revenge, are what will make me come back for more – for while Navola’s sequel has not been announced yet, the ending ensures the story has only begun.
[...]
So, in short, Navola is largely a promise of things to come. A letter of credit, written on a thick, richly embossed and gilded paper, signed by the head of the family – an assurance of value, but not entirely value itself. I am an incurable optimist, however, and generally trust people – and thus, if not for the disturbingly intimate descriptions of violence and torture, the newest Bacigalupi’s novel would have gotten a solid 8/10 from me. But because my violence-porn-meter is very sensitive, Navola’s rating gets bumped down to 7/10 stars.
I received a copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks.
My full review on my blog.
The newest novel by the author of The Wind-Up Girl and The Water Knife promises an immersion into a faux Italian Renaissance, full of warring city-states, a growing power of banks and merchants, and a little bit of fantasy. Actually, the cover promises a lot more than just a little, that baleful red eye gloriously resplendent on the creamy, delicately sculptured background. What it delivers, however, is a more of a mixed message. The alternate Italian Renaissance is indeed delivered as promised, obsessively detailed, fully realised, rich and evocative in every aspect, from the almost tactile depictions of cloths and nature to sharp observations of social mores and behaviour – Bacigalupi even goes as far as inventing his own version of Italian language and embellishes the culture with a pantheon of ancient agrarian gods, not too far from the actual Roman deities. But the author of The Wind-Up Girl would not have been himself if he hadn’t added a smear of blood and shit on that canvas – and, dear reader, better prepare yourself for the typical Bacigalupi penchant for lovingly detailed and vivid descriptions of torture, debasement, misery and suffering.
I could end my review here, but where would be fun in that :). Let me say, then, that the novel is long, and it feels even longer. That the main protagonist is a teenager, and Bacigalupi even for a moment doesn’t let us forget about that painful fact – Davico is a teenager engulfed in a hormonal storm, stupid, impulsive, focused entirely on himself, and, later, also on the object of his affection. The depiction of his emotional and physiological states is very realistic indeed, but that’s a small solace for the suffering reader, who must endure pages upon pages of the teenage angst, shortsightedness, and wildly seesawing feelings. I was close to DNFing this book two times, the first out of boredom, the second out of exasperation with Davico’s mulish stupidity.
So why didn’t I? Simple. Bacigalupi is a good writer. Oh, he has issues, his obsessive love for describing human suffering and cruelty is definitely way beyond any norm, but his style is easy and engaging, the words on the page seem to flow effortlessly, and his attention to detail, which he uses skillfully to create immersive, lush and believable worlds, is truly impressive. I enjoyed reading about his alternate Renaissance Italy, the rise and fall of the merchant clans, the bitter biting reaction from the nobles, the politics of Navola which so closely mirrored the history. I also appreciated the tiny drop of fantasy making ever bigger circles on the surface of Navola’s reality – and this slowly growing presence, Davico’s believable if painful development, and his quest for revenge, are what will make me come back for more – for while Navola’s sequel has not been announced yet, the ending ensures the story has only begun.
[...]
So, in short, Navola is largely a promise of things to come. A letter of credit, written on a thick, richly embossed and gilded paper, signed by the head of the family – an assurance of value, but not entirely value itself. I am an incurable optimist, however, and generally trust people – and thus, if not for the disturbingly intimate descriptions of violence and torture, the newest Bacigalupi’s novel would have gotten a solid 8/10 from me. But because my violence-porn-meter is very sensitive, Navola’s rating gets bumped down to 7/10 stars.
I received a copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. My thanks.
April 2, 2024
I received the ARC from NetGalley.
This was my first encounter with Bacigalupi, and it won't be the last. It's not a novel without its flaws, most notably on the level of gender, with the (young and immature) male protagonist's sexism and propensity to objectify being called out and acknowledged but still resulting in narration that at times evoked more eyerolls than strictly necessary. But if that's not a deal breaker (and it wasn't for me), there are some classic pleasures to be found in this coming of age fantasy tale. There's a hint of Dune to the set-up, and a dash of Puzo-esque Borgias with Italian-like city states setting, peppering of untranslated (but easily understandable) terms and phrases. There's an absolutely engrossing plot, and a cast of utterly fun characters. There's just so much fun to how the world is constructed and to the voice. I loved the worldbuilding, with the way philosophy influences the characters' ways of perceiving the world, and I found the story unputdownable (it made me stay up past my bedtime twice in a row because I needed to finish the chapter, and just one more). I am absolutely hoping there's more coming (it clearly is supposed to, but the conclusion works if the series fails to launch, I suppose), and I'll be waiting impatiently.
Content noted under the spoiler cut.
This was my first encounter with Bacigalupi, and it won't be the last. It's not a novel without its flaws, most notably on the level of gender, with the (young and immature) male protagonist's sexism and propensity to objectify being called out and acknowledged but still resulting in narration that at times evoked more eyerolls than strictly necessary. But if that's not a deal breaker (and it wasn't for me), there are some classic pleasures to be found in this coming of age fantasy tale. There's a hint of Dune to the set-up, and a dash of Puzo-esque Borgias with Italian-like city states setting, peppering of untranslated (but easily understandable) terms and phrases. There's an absolutely engrossing plot, and a cast of utterly fun characters. There's just so much fun to how the world is constructed and to the voice. I loved the worldbuilding, with the way philosophy influences the characters' ways of perceiving the world, and I found the story unputdownable (it made me stay up past my bedtime twice in a row because I needed to finish the chapter, and just one more). I am absolutely hoping there's more coming (it clearly is supposed to, but the conclusion works if the series fails to launch, I suppose), and I'll be waiting impatiently.
Content noted under the spoiler cut.
July 3, 2024
Normally, I love historical fantasy. Normally, I absolutely love historical fantasy set in Italy (whether it’s supposed to be our Italy or if it’s just inspired by our Italy). Normally, I love coming of age fantasy. Despite all this book should’ve had going for it, this book just wasn’t my cup of tea.
If you don’t mind books that don’t even seem to commit to a solid plot until halfway through the book, then you’ll like this book. If you don’t mind a lack of worldbuilding and atmosphere, then you’ll like this book. If you like a protagonist who’s a bit of a supercilious dullard, then you’ll like this book.
I, however, didn’t like this book. Which is sad, because I went into it thinking I would. Paolo Bacigalupi isn’t a bad writer, I just don’t think he’s the writer for me.
I was provided a copy of this title by Netgalley and the author. All thoughts, opinions, views, and ideas expressed herein are mine and mine alone. This review is rated three stars or under and will not be appearing on my social media. Thank you.
File Under: Coming of Age/Fantasy/Historical Fantasy
If you don’t mind books that don’t even seem to commit to a solid plot until halfway through the book, then you’ll like this book. If you don’t mind a lack of worldbuilding and atmosphere, then you’ll like this book. If you like a protagonist who’s a bit of a supercilious dullard, then you’ll like this book.
I, however, didn’t like this book. Which is sad, because I went into it thinking I would. Paolo Bacigalupi isn’t a bad writer, I just don’t think he’s the writer for me.
I was provided a copy of this title by Netgalley and the author. All thoughts, opinions, views, and ideas expressed herein are mine and mine alone. This review is rated three stars or under and will not be appearing on my social media. Thank you.
File Under: Coming of Age/Fantasy/Historical Fantasy
Read
August 18, 2024As a fan of both fantasy and European history, this book was a fantastic read. Bacigalupi weaves a tale of intrigue, politics and betrayal set in a second world analogue to 15th century Italy, complete with warring city - states and high politics.
His writing style is immersive and unique. He also makes a number of unconventional authorial choices such as the primary POV and other details.
The story is just rich with detail and vivid imagery. Exceptionally engaging and multiple forms of conflict are leveraged for a consistent sense of tension throughout.
I'll admit I was not crazy about the final 25% of Act III but I understand why the author made certain choices to keep the tone and atmosphere of the work faithful to time period which evoked it.
His writing style is immersive and unique. He also makes a number of unconventional authorial choices such as the primary POV and other details.
The story is just rich with detail and vivid imagery. Exceptionally engaging and multiple forms of conflict are leveraged for a consistent sense of tension throughout.
I'll admit I was not crazy about the final 25% of Act III but I understand why the author made certain choices to keep the tone and atmosphere of the work faithful to time period which evoked it.
July 20, 2024
The horniest book I've ever read
July 25, 2024
Paulo Bacigalupi can write epic fantasy. Who knew?
Certainly not him. As he tells it, he was burned out from writing books about seriously depressing topics such as environmental degradation, water shortages, manipulation of public opinion, and the like. He wasn't sure he was going to write anything again.
Then a sentence came to him out of the blue: “My father kept a dragon eye upon his desk.” Where did that come from? Who was doing the speaking, and why and how did the father have a dragon eye? What did it mean?
He decided he'd just do a little writing to figure it out. So he kept writing, a little bit each day, developing a story about an alternative Renaissance Italy and a merchant banking family that controlled the finances of a city, Navola, and its region.
This went on for some time. He was playing around with worldbuilding, just having fun. He had spent a little time in Italy, learning some Italian, and developed a variant language of Italian to make up words like 'stilettotore' – one who wields a stiletto, i.e. an assassin. He even has some poetry in his faux-Italian language.
Eventually he got to the point where he realized he had about 600,000 words. Hmm, he thought, maybe I should try to do something with this. Maybe there's a book in here.
He hammered out a plotline, stitched some things together, and shopped it to his agent, who wondered just what landed on his desk from this guy who never wrote fantasy before. (Well, maybe once before, counting the novella 'The Alchemist'.)
Still, 600,000 words is too much for one book, even when edited. So he found a good stopping place and cut the story in half. 'Navola' is the first half. Expect another book in the near future.
Interestingly enough, Paulo says he also knows what the last sentence of the story is. We'll have to wait for the second book to find out what it is.
So, having explained all that, you'll want to know if it's any good.
Yes, it's good. Very good. The immense worldbuilding shows up early and slows down the plot in the first half of the book, but it's all pretty interesting and the characters are great, so you don't mind. Then in the second half, the betrayals and twists begin. The last quarter of the book gets dark, very grim, but in all fairness there was sufficient foreshadowing. The first person narration by the banker's young son and heir, Davico, is very affecting, and your heart breaks when bad things start happening to him.
In a way this is a standard coming-of-age epic fantasy, but the world he builds and the complexity of the economics and societal customs are quite engaging and keep the pages turning. Davico is also a great viewpoint character. Renaissance Italy was a complex, dangerous place, and Bacigalupi's variant world shows the lushness of its riches and the horrors of its poverty and punishment.
I can't wait for the second book to see how Davico's journey continues. And to see that final sentence.
Certainly not him. As he tells it, he was burned out from writing books about seriously depressing topics such as environmental degradation, water shortages, manipulation of public opinion, and the like. He wasn't sure he was going to write anything again.
Then a sentence came to him out of the blue: “My father kept a dragon eye upon his desk.” Where did that come from? Who was doing the speaking, and why and how did the father have a dragon eye? What did it mean?
He decided he'd just do a little writing to figure it out. So he kept writing, a little bit each day, developing a story about an alternative Renaissance Italy and a merchant banking family that controlled the finances of a city, Navola, and its region.
This went on for some time. He was playing around with worldbuilding, just having fun. He had spent a little time in Italy, learning some Italian, and developed a variant language of Italian to make up words like 'stilettotore' – one who wields a stiletto, i.e. an assassin. He even has some poetry in his faux-Italian language.
Eventually he got to the point where he realized he had about 600,000 words. Hmm, he thought, maybe I should try to do something with this. Maybe there's a book in here.
He hammered out a plotline, stitched some things together, and shopped it to his agent, who wondered just what landed on his desk from this guy who never wrote fantasy before. (Well, maybe once before, counting the novella 'The Alchemist'.)
Still, 600,000 words is too much for one book, even when edited. So he found a good stopping place and cut the story in half. 'Navola' is the first half. Expect another book in the near future.
Interestingly enough, Paulo says he also knows what the last sentence of the story is. We'll have to wait for the second book to find out what it is.
So, having explained all that, you'll want to know if it's any good.
Yes, it's good. Very good. The immense worldbuilding shows up early and slows down the plot in the first half of the book, but it's all pretty interesting and the characters are great, so you don't mind. Then in the second half, the betrayals and twists begin. The last quarter of the book gets dark, very grim, but in all fairness there was sufficient foreshadowing. The first person narration by the banker's young son and heir, Davico, is very affecting, and your heart breaks when bad things start happening to him.
In a way this is a standard coming-of-age epic fantasy, but the world he builds and the complexity of the economics and societal customs are quite engaging and keep the pages turning. Davico is also a great viewpoint character. Renaissance Italy was a complex, dangerous place, and Bacigalupi's variant world shows the lushness of its riches and the horrors of its poverty and punishment.
I can't wait for the second book to see how Davico's journey continues. And to see that final sentence.
August 4, 2024
Navola is from beginning to end, Davico's retelling of his origin story. He was born as the son of a banker who led the most powerful family in the city. He's at least somewhat of an unreliable narrator because he lies, tells you he lied, and also says he'd never lie to you. Davico is among the least agentic protagonists I've read. As often accompanies a lack of agency, his life is filled with angst and suffering. All the other characters are better and compensate for him, though I think Bacigalupi went too far with his characterization of him as a son unworthy of the greatness of his forebears. None of it goes unused by the narrative, but I wonder whether it was worth the cost to have such an uninspiring and anguished protagonist. This may be the sort of book that is meant to be contrasted with later ones.
The vast majority takes place in the city of Navola, which is readily comparable to Florence in the time of the Medici. The map is similar and there's often words that are more or less Italian, the meaning of which are usually made evident by their context. I remain ambivalent about this practice because it both adds and detracts from the reading experience. Everywhere else can easily be related to a historical analogue as well.
A singular fantastical element, a dragon's eye seeking a bond, is arguably all that separates this from clearly being secondary world historical fiction. In terms of a plot, there isn't really much of one. There's familicide, political maneuvering, in-depth discussions about trade and geopolitics, slaughtering traitors, and much else. What Davico really wants you to know though is how his day to day life was. Which is him trying to improve himself to be worthy, indulging his actual interest of communing with nature, being a pawn, and having tense situations with his adopted sister. There are a few sex scenes and one in particular is of considerable duration and graphically described in explicit detail.
There's no clear sense of purpose or meaning to anything that happens. I don't believe that in of itself is the message, but it could be. Maybe the following books will clarify matters. Perhaps related to this is how Navola is being called literary fantasy, which is questionable, though the writing is nice and flowed well. However, it does have a lot of exposition both early and late in the story.
Navola is Bacigalupi's first fantasy novel. He usually writes science fiction. It doesn't read like anything else I've read from him, which is most of what he's written. That has its benefits and disappointments. Despite my concerns I'll read the next book whenever it releases, if only because so much of my overall assessment depends on them. If there isn't another one, then that's unfortunate because I don't think this stands alone. As has been the case with all of his novels, I wanted to like it far more than I did, which continues to be troubling.
Rating: 3.5/5
The vast majority takes place in the city of Navola, which is readily comparable to Florence in the time of the Medici. The map is similar and there's often words that are more or less Italian, the meaning of which are usually made evident by their context. I remain ambivalent about this practice because it both adds and detracts from the reading experience. Everywhere else can easily be related to a historical analogue as well.
A singular fantastical element, a dragon's eye seeking a bond, is arguably all that separates this from clearly being secondary world historical fiction. In terms of a plot, there isn't really much of one. There's familicide, political maneuvering, in-depth discussions about trade and geopolitics, slaughtering traitors, and much else. What Davico really wants you to know though is how his day to day life was. Which is him trying to improve himself to be worthy, indulging his actual interest of communing with nature, being a pawn, and having tense situations with his adopted sister. There are a few sex scenes and one in particular is of considerable duration and graphically described in explicit detail.
There's no clear sense of purpose or meaning to anything that happens. I don't believe that in of itself is the message, but it could be. Maybe the following books will clarify matters. Perhaps related to this is how Navola is being called literary fantasy, which is questionable, though the writing is nice and flowed well. However, it does have a lot of exposition both early and late in the story.
Navola is Bacigalupi's first fantasy novel. He usually writes science fiction. It doesn't read like anything else I've read from him, which is most of what he's written. That has its benefits and disappointments. Despite my concerns I'll read the next book whenever it releases, if only because so much of my overall assessment depends on them. If there isn't another one, then that's unfortunate because I don't think this stands alone. As has been the case with all of his novels, I wanted to like it far more than I did, which continues to be troubling.
Rating: 3.5/5
August 19, 2024
This book is great for TRUE GoT lovers.
I would say it’s only really readable though as an audiobook, but via audiobook it is VERY immersive.
I personally have always been interested in the Medici family so this book being based on them made it of immediate interest for me.
It was good in the sense that I went to sleep at night thinking about it but also I dreaded reading it but also I couldn’t stop. But not in the same way that like weird-girl-lit-fic does that
I would say it’s only really readable though as an audiobook, but via audiobook it is VERY immersive.
I personally have always been interested in the Medici family so this book being based on them made it of immediate interest for me.
It was good in the sense that I went to sleep at night thinking about it but also I dreaded reading it but also I couldn’t stop. But not in the same way that like weird-girl-lit-fic does that
July 8, 2024
I was so excited to get the ARC for Navola, because somehow I hadn’t read any Paolo Bacigalupi, and I knew I needed to get started. I gather that this is something of a departure from his earlier work, but for me it was a first contact, so, unfortunately, this review will not be comparative. I really enjoyed Navola--in fact, most of my complaints are a matter of my personal taste, and not really a critique of the author's craft.
The best thing about this book, for my money, is the world building. Even when I was occasionally annoyed by the main character, I wanted to see more of the world and the people in it. There are a lot of reviews of this book that say it is slow, and the plot does take its time getting rolling, but the first half to me had the charm of a tour through a wonderfully foreign country, and I had plenty to keep my interest. Also, this is a big, sprawling epic fantasy, and I didn’t mind giving it the room to sprawl.
The political intrigue was well done, and there was plenty of it when it got going. I was able to predict a few twists, but not all of them. The only complaint I have about the book (and this is a personal taste thing) was I found the narrator, who is a 17-19 year old boy to be trying. Now, I find most 17-19 year old boys in real life trying, so this is probably an apt characterization, but it did make parts of the book somewhat grating for me. I hope that as he continues to grow through this series, that my irritation on this score gets better.
Recommended for people looking for their next Game of Thrones fix, and fans of Brandon Sanderson.
The best thing about this book, for my money, is the world building. Even when I was occasionally annoyed by the main character, I wanted to see more of the world and the people in it. There are a lot of reviews of this book that say it is slow, and the plot does take its time getting rolling, but the first half to me had the charm of a tour through a wonderfully foreign country, and I had plenty to keep my interest. Also, this is a big, sprawling epic fantasy, and I didn’t mind giving it the room to sprawl.
The political intrigue was well done, and there was plenty of it when it got going. I was able to predict a few twists, but not all of them. The only complaint I have about the book (and this is a personal taste thing) was I found the narrator, who is a 17-19 year old boy to be trying. Now, I find most 17-19 year old boys in real life trying, so this is probably an apt characterization, but it did make parts of the book somewhat grating for me. I hope that as he continues to grow through this series, that my irritation on this score gets better.
Recommended for people looking for their next Game of Thrones fix, and fans of Brandon Sanderson.
August 1, 2024
I had very high hopes for this book. I went into this expecting a coming of age high fantasy with some level of dragons. Unfortunately, this book was just not for me.
The story started off very slow and it felt like it took a very long time for it to feel like the story was going anywhere. Once things did start to happen, it became very violent and had sexual scenes that were just not my cup of tea. I do not mind violence or spice in my books, but this was just too over the top for me and it did not feel like it added anything to the story.
I also could not connect with the main character. It was supposed to be a coming of age story so I expected him to advance and grow as a character. He felt incredibly naïve throughout the entire book and I think I may have enjoyed this more if it was written from a different character’s POV.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a complimentary copy of this book. I leave this review voluntarily and all opinions are my own.
The story started off very slow and it felt like it took a very long time for it to feel like the story was going anywhere. Once things did start to happen, it became very violent and had sexual scenes that were just not my cup of tea. I do not mind violence or spice in my books, but this was just too over the top for me and it did not feel like it added anything to the story.
I also could not connect with the main character. It was supposed to be a coming of age story so I expected him to advance and grow as a character. He felt incredibly naïve throughout the entire book and I think I may have enjoyed this more if it was written from a different character’s POV.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a complimentary copy of this book. I leave this review voluntarily and all opinions are my own.
August 9, 2024
I read the ARC for Navola. This was a very long and arduous read that took months to finish. Looking at other people's reviews, I can understand some of their critiques. The amount of foreign words and distant concepts make the prose richer, but so difficult to process. There are a ton of characters to keep track of, both major and minor, some known by name or by their titles. Many countries and locations that I don't get a map to. The writing is nonetheless beautiful and perfectly matches the kind of world the setting is in. At times, some things are told directly to you, others are implied.
There were many moments when I was suffering through certain chapters, wishing for clarity and something to happen. Believe me, everything that's laid out in the first 300 pages is crucial and meaningful. The lore, the mythology, the stereotypes between nations, the ancient history, and culture-all of it is significant. Every small moment in the beginning will pay off later, no matter how boring or dull it appears to be at first. There were times when I was frustrated by Davico and having to read from his point of view only. I wanted Celia to be the protagonist (I still sort of do, but that's best done in a sequel or spin-off) because Davico was so passive and weak. It's actually brilliant. Just as we the reader think Davico is weak and incompetent, so do the other characters that see it. No one except his dad, stepmother, and close retinue wants him to lead and be in charge. Events happen to him instead of him driving events for the most part. Davico's sincere, kind, and honest character is unsuited for this world of politics and deceptions, just as I was thinking that he is the worst person possible to look through in experiencing the story. That's the point, and it justifies the narrative even more.
I admit, whenever Davico made certain choices, like not running away when he could have at the highest of his conviction; when he played right into his father's hand during that meeting with the young Parl; and just being childish in general, I got frustrated at him for refusing to grow a spine and brain. Which again is the point. It isn't until Davico loses everything and falls from grace, including his eyes, that he can finally grow up. The last portion of the book is a little rushed compared to how slow the beginning was, but this was apt for the direction of the story. In one swift blow, the Regulai empire falls apart. Years pass by in a jumbled blur; Davico gradually builds himself back up again and escapes with the conviction he knew all along. That he was always meant to be a part of nature. By returning to nature does mankind find true happiness.
It's a good thing that Celia wasn't the protagonist. She is meant to be someone we can't understand, can't grasp. I believe that even up to the end, we don't know what her true face was. Did she mean what she said? Was everything just an act to survive? What parts were genuine? As compelling and fun Celia is, she's best regulated to a side character that we experience from the outside. Most of the cast are fairly fleshed out. Their personalities and convictions are clear and complex. Obviously Davico's perspective will be biased since all we have is his point of view. Still, there's plenty of hidden depth to infer between the lines. Like, who would've expected Merio of all people to turn on Davico?
The one thing I'm iffy on is the dragon. It's not entirely clear if it was actually alive and held magical power. Yeah, Davico says that the dragon lends him super senses and memories. Even Celia realizes that the dragon eye has a presence. Yet the eye is still ambiguous. Personally, I think it's a metaphor of sorts for enlightenment and Nature. It's not just a plot device.
If there'll be a sequel to this, I'm excited to read it. Davico actually grew on me and I want to see the new man he's become. His story is similar to the biographies of those who survive great tragedies and grow stronger from it. Like Forgotten Fire; the protagonist was a young and carefree child that grew up spoiled and safe. Until he lost everything and everyone, which forces him to grow up and become tough as iron to survive. As interesting the political machinations, the war, the magic, and the drama are, ultimately the story is one of character growth through dire circumstances.
There were many moments when I was suffering through certain chapters, wishing for clarity and something to happen. Believe me, everything that's laid out in the first 300 pages is crucial and meaningful. The lore, the mythology, the stereotypes between nations, the ancient history, and culture-all of it is significant. Every small moment in the beginning will pay off later, no matter how boring or dull it appears to be at first. There were times when I was frustrated by Davico and having to read from his point of view only. I wanted Celia to be the protagonist (I still sort of do, but that's best done in a sequel or spin-off) because Davico was so passive and weak. It's actually brilliant. Just as we the reader think Davico is weak and incompetent, so do the other characters that see it. No one except his dad, stepmother, and close retinue wants him to lead and be in charge. Events happen to him instead of him driving events for the most part. Davico's sincere, kind, and honest character is unsuited for this world of politics and deceptions, just as I was thinking that he is the worst person possible to look through in experiencing the story. That's the point, and it justifies the narrative even more.
I admit, whenever Davico made certain choices, like not running away when he could have at the highest of his conviction; when he played right into his father's hand during that meeting with the young Parl; and just being childish in general, I got frustrated at him for refusing to grow a spine and brain. Which again is the point. It isn't until Davico loses everything and falls from grace, including his eyes, that he can finally grow up. The last portion of the book is a little rushed compared to how slow the beginning was, but this was apt for the direction of the story. In one swift blow, the Regulai empire falls apart. Years pass by in a jumbled blur; Davico gradually builds himself back up again and escapes with the conviction he knew all along. That he was always meant to be a part of nature. By returning to nature does mankind find true happiness.
It's a good thing that Celia wasn't the protagonist. She is meant to be someone we can't understand, can't grasp. I believe that even up to the end, we don't know what her true face was. Did she mean what she said? Was everything just an act to survive? What parts were genuine? As compelling and fun Celia is, she's best regulated to a side character that we experience from the outside. Most of the cast are fairly fleshed out. Their personalities and convictions are clear and complex. Obviously Davico's perspective will be biased since all we have is his point of view. Still, there's plenty of hidden depth to infer between the lines. Like, who would've expected Merio of all people to turn on Davico?
The one thing I'm iffy on is the dragon. It's not entirely clear if it was actually alive and held magical power. Yeah, Davico says that the dragon lends him super senses and memories. Even Celia realizes that the dragon eye has a presence. Yet the eye is still ambiguous. Personally, I think it's a metaphor of sorts for enlightenment and Nature. It's not just a plot device.
If there'll be a sequel to this, I'm excited to read it. Davico actually grew on me and I want to see the new man he's become. His story is similar to the biographies of those who survive great tragedies and grow stronger from it. Like Forgotten Fire; the protagonist was a young and carefree child that grew up spoiled and safe. Until he lost everything and everyone, which forces him to grow up and become tough as iron to survive. As interesting the political machinations, the war, the magic, and the drama are, ultimately the story is one of character growth through dire circumstances.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 12, 2024
Navola, a historical fiction novel by Paolo Bacigalupi, is set in a fictional city-state dominated by a handful of powerful families, including the di Regulai family.
It is a city-state of twisted politics and equally twisted friends & foes. Davico is the only child of Devonaci di Regulai, wealthy merchant banker whose family name is widely respected throughout the known world. Davico is coming of age and is expected to take the reins of power from his father, though he does not feel fit to the task. Davico is raised and educated by the most brilliant & skilled teachers of many trades, however, he lacks ambition. Will Davico rise to inhabit the role that he is born into, or will his family name crumble from his lack of ambition & desire to rebel?
I enjoyed reading Navola, with its cast of well-developed characters and fascinating world-building. I haven’t enjoyed a historical fiction as much as since I read “Pillars of the Earth”. Navola has feels of Florentine Medici family & Game of Thrones.
It’s told from first person narrative, which suited the story well. We see just how spoiled & naïve--yet honorable-- Davico is with the unfolding of events through his eyes.
This novel is coming-of-age, politics & plots, betrayals & savagery, love, & *very light* fantasy (The dragon eye).
Some might say the first half of the book is slow, but I felt the pacing was perfect for character development & deep dive into the world of the Navolese. I was pulled in by the coming-of-age story told by Davico. I enjoyed Davico’s lessons with the physician, where he learned uses for different plants, both healing & deadly. The inclusion of the dragon’s eye was enticing; however, I wish more would have been done with this. The only reason this is not a 5-star for me is because I was a bit disappointed with the ending. What happened to Celia? Where is Stub? Did Davico make it to the deep Romiglia? I wanted to read the Callarino’s reaction to the final events. It just wasn’t a satisfying ending for me.
Thank you Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor publishing for allowing me to read this ARC via @Netgalley. All thoughts are entirely my own.
instagram.com/bookslug_
It is a city-state of twisted politics and equally twisted friends & foes. Davico is the only child of Devonaci di Regulai, wealthy merchant banker whose family name is widely respected throughout the known world. Davico is coming of age and is expected to take the reins of power from his father, though he does not feel fit to the task. Davico is raised and educated by the most brilliant & skilled teachers of many trades, however, he lacks ambition. Will Davico rise to inhabit the role that he is born into, or will his family name crumble from his lack of ambition & desire to rebel?
I enjoyed reading Navola, with its cast of well-developed characters and fascinating world-building. I haven’t enjoyed a historical fiction as much as since I read “Pillars of the Earth”. Navola has feels of Florentine Medici family & Game of Thrones.
It’s told from first person narrative, which suited the story well. We see just how spoiled & naïve--yet honorable-- Davico is with the unfolding of events through his eyes.
This novel is coming-of-age, politics & plots, betrayals & savagery, love, & *very light* fantasy (The dragon eye).
Some might say the first half of the book is slow, but I felt the pacing was perfect for character development & deep dive into the world of the Navolese. I was pulled in by the coming-of-age story told by Davico. I enjoyed Davico’s lessons with the physician, where he learned uses for different plants, both healing & deadly. The inclusion of the dragon’s eye was enticing; however, I wish more would have been done with this. The only reason this is not a 5-star for me is because I was a bit disappointed with the ending. What happened to Celia? Where is Stub? Did Davico make it to the deep Romiglia? I wanted to read the Callarino’s reaction to the final events. It just wasn’t a satisfying ending for me.
Thank you Knopf, Pantheon, Vintage, and Anchor publishing for allowing me to read this ARC via @Netgalley. All thoughts are entirely my own.
instagram.com/bookslug_
July 9, 2024
Davico di Regulai is soft and gentle, a child raised in wealth and privilege. Animals are quick to trust him, and his temperament and skills would make him an excellent doctor. Unfortunately, he is heir to the di Regulai estate a ruthless bank that holds dreams of empire, led by his father Devonaci.
In the 15th century Venice inspired Navola the people cannot be trusted and only sometimes controlled by honor, money, threat or blackmail. Devonaci is a clever political player and Davico is raised and trained to follow his example, alongside his adopted sister Celia. Celia is much better at the intrigue and her adoption was a way to control her own family.
It is a very cutthroat world where what is said and shown is less revealing than the set of a mouth or position of the shoulders. Hesitation can be damning. Davico is unable to hide his thoughts from his face and is forever looking for those he can truly trust.
The narrative is Davico’s as he shares his education, training and coming of age. He is forced into a role he has not interest in and lacks the capability for, and this affects him both mentally and physically. On his father’s desk, there sits an eye of a dragon, symbol of his power, but it calls to Davico in ways no one else hears or sees.
Davico continually hints at a change of fortunes for himself and his family. While much is hinted, there is brutal swiftness to change that calls to mind the works of George R R Martin. As in Martin’s writings the decision one makes or the opportunities missed can and do have severe costs.
Recommended to readers or watchers of the Game of Thrones series, coming of age tales or political intrigue.
I received a free digital version of this book via NetGalley thanks to the publisher.
In the 15th century Venice inspired Navola the people cannot be trusted and only sometimes controlled by honor, money, threat or blackmail. Devonaci is a clever political player and Davico is raised and trained to follow his example, alongside his adopted sister Celia. Celia is much better at the intrigue and her adoption was a way to control her own family.
It is a very cutthroat world where what is said and shown is less revealing than the set of a mouth or position of the shoulders. Hesitation can be damning. Davico is unable to hide his thoughts from his face and is forever looking for those he can truly trust.
The narrative is Davico’s as he shares his education, training and coming of age. He is forced into a role he has not interest in and lacks the capability for, and this affects him both mentally and physically. On his father’s desk, there sits an eye of a dragon, symbol of his power, but it calls to Davico in ways no one else hears or sees.
Davico continually hints at a change of fortunes for himself and his family. While much is hinted, there is brutal swiftness to change that calls to mind the works of George R R Martin. As in Martin’s writings the decision one makes or the opportunities missed can and do have severe costs.
Recommended to readers or watchers of the Game of Thrones series, coming of age tales or political intrigue.
I received a free digital version of this book via NetGalley thanks to the publisher.
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