Arguably Attanasio's best work, this book is unlike his others in that it works on the small scale, not the epic. The locale is one modest castle in a bleak, snow-bound British winter somewhere in the era of the Crusades. It is the classic tale of the revenant who may or may not be the person she (in this case) claims to be--especially when included in her claim is a magical restoration of her youth by the Holy Grail. But it was an era when such claims were never wholly out of court (and in a novel, might not be at all). There is the slow, stately dance of personalities, as each individual involved probes the private benefit or loss tthat accepting the claim entails, and takes a position accordingly, but without ever closing down alternatives. The tale is told in the present tense, and in a deliberately paced, bleak prose matching the setting, a prose that gives the tale a curiously brooding, timeless feel. The characters are presented with depth and feeling, and prove again that in scope and scale, less often is more.