
Books have a weight to them that goes beyond the sheer amount of pages upon which they are printed.
Some books drone on and on, page after page, and do not say much at all. They may be page-turners. They may be exciting. Like cotton candy, they have lots of volume but no real weight. Some readers love cotton candy. Some read nothing but. And then there are those books that say so much you can almost hear the thud of the pages as you turn them. Such books are not meant to be read quickly. They’re meant to be mulled over, savored, reflected upon.
While I may read lighter fare from time to time, it is the weightier ones that make up the main part of my literary diet. Such a book is Taliesin by Stephen Lawhead.
The first in the five book Pendragon series, Taliesin is a tale rooted in Arthurian legend undergirded by the myth of Atlantis. The latter is infused with the cultural air of ancient Greece, while the parts of the story which unfold in the British Isles draw inspiration from Celtic culture and history. It is clear that the author did significant amounts of research into both cultures and indeed many parts of the story read like historical fiction.
Not your garden variety fantasy
Fantastical elements definitely color the events, though, and more so as the story goes on. But even these possess more of a supernatural quality for the most part and often either a pagan or Christian sensibility. They are not the main draw here, however. This is a character-driven story. The events and the setting, as in-depth as it is, serve mostly as vehicles for the characters
The most prominent character is the Atlantean princess, Charis. Oddly, Taliesin, the titular character, and the person who eventually takes on the role of the main protagonist, does not feature prominently in the story until about halfway through. But Charis, the other principal character, is there from the start. She moves from innocence and optimism, to a grim and almost fatalistic perspecitve toward the end. She is only rescued from becoming a tragic figure by the entrance of Taliesin into her life. Indeed, she, along with her father, King Avallach, and the rest of her people do suffer mightily along the way.
Stars shine brightest in the deepest wells
Her character arc offers a good representation of the nature of the story as a whole. This is not a happy tale. Good characters are betrayed. Pride pulls down many. A sense of impending doom hangs over all. The book ends in tragedy. Yet perhaps because of the dark tone, Taliesin the bard shines out all the more brightly. He is a diamond placed in a very rough setting.
In Taliesin, the author has created a truly memorable character. He manages to give us someone who is both epic and supremely gifted, and yet very sincere and relatable. We truly want to see him succeed and marvel as his legend grows with each chapter. In him, we can connect with all that is noble in the Celtic culture as well as the power and simplicity of his Christian faith. It is a rare feat to present a character whose chief skill is his ability to inspire and move people through his words. It takes someone of Lawhead’s literary skill and he pulls it off masterfully.

Lawhead’s prose is the other principal attraction here. He simply knows how to write a beautiful sentence and his range is vast. These words are meant to be savored and enjoyed, not simply breezed through to get to the next plot point or character development. At the same time, his use of archaic words and phrases may be a stumbling block for some readers, though I do not count myself among them.
Almost perfect
This book is the fusion of many mythologies: Greek, Celtic, Arthurian, and Christian. That makes the book feel a bit less original than a work set in a fantasy world of the author’s own creation. But the inventiveness comes in the characters who people this tale. These are wholly original and very much stand on their own. The plot as well does not play out in any way in a predictable manner. For while the raw materials draw from familiar sources, the final result is unique and something new.
Throughout the unfolding of the story, it is never quite clear where things are headed. There is an awful lot of setup here and in some ways this reads more like a back story or a prologue to something much bigger and grander. Yet the strength of the characters and the writing make the long setup worth it and by the close of the tale when Taliesin comes into his own, we are fully invested in the outcome of this tale.
There is a bit of a twist near the end that I found abrupt and uncharacteristic of the rest of the story. In fact, it’s more of a jolt than a twist. It just comes out of nowhere. Yet in the events that follow, the author reins the tale back in and uses this strange turn of events to provide the most moving section of the novel so that makes up for the unexpected change in direction.
The cycle continues
The closing chapters of this book lay the groundwork for much more to come. While the story is complete in its own right, as I said earlier, much of what unfolds here lays the groundwork for a great and coming conflict. If the same depth of character, fantastic prose, and thoroughly researched world await—and we have no reason to believe otherwise—I am certainly on board for the duration.
So here’s to more books with heavy pages. They are few and far between these days. Like long lost Celtic princes and mystical Atlantean princesses, they are gems both precious and rare. But when you find one amidst all the literary detritus, you hold onto them and treasure them all the more deeply.


