Gentlemen of the Road

Gentlemen of the Road (by Michael Chabon) ought to be awesome: it's a swashbuckling tale of tenth-century Khazaria, complete with sentimental pen-and-ink illustrations of situations such as "refugees fleeing the city which the Rus have looted" and "soldiers deliver Our Heroine to the brothel". However, the Gentlemen belong to the world-weary school of swashbucklers, convinced that any divergence from their campaign of mild embezzlement will end ill, and it's difficult to invest in a project which even the heroes have fifth thoughts about. (I had a similar reaction to the Captain Alatriste books.) Around the end of Chapter Eleven, Gentlemen of the Road attains sheer gleeful improbability, and from there to the end it lives up to its promise.