#51--Published August 1972
The Song of Rhiannon
Evangeline Walton
Cover art by David Johnston
Easily one of the finest books in the entire series, Walton's telling of the Third Branch of the Mabinogian illustrates perfectly what superb storytelling is all about. While I prefer to read many of the epic fantasy books a chapter or two at a time, this one could easily be read in one go, and perhaps should. Continuing directly from where The Children of Llyr left off (#33, above), we follow four main characters, two men and two women, through seven years of mysterious hardship. Legend is woven upon legend, and Walton makes clear what could easily become intricate muddiness in the hands of a lesser craftsperson. The simplicity of the storytelling harkens back to my recent reread of The Odyssey, translated by Lattimore.
Not only is there great storytelling going on here, but there are ample amounts of wisdom scattered throughout the novel as well. I cannot think of any book in the main series that is more cinematic. It would make such a terrific epic in the right screenwriter and director's hands. I was unfamiliar with the Mabinogian before Walton's works came about. It is one of those confusing legends with too many characters, too many plots, and too many levels of beings. Walton takes the complicated and simplifies it to the point where things are easily understood in the first reading. As a result, the reader is able to focus on other aspects besides the plot, and reading this book is an enlightening and highly entertaining way to spend one's time. This is my favourite of the three books so far. It is lighter in tone than the second book, and has a charm that is hard to describe. Perhaps it is best expressed by the appearance of a "bogey," near the end of the book. The fourth book in the set was not published by Ballantine until after the adult series had been cancelled, but it will still be included here, at the very end. Accessible to many children above the age of ten, especially if read to.
Easily one of the finest books in the entire series, Walton's telling of the Third Branch of the Mabinogian illustrates perfectly what superb storytelling is all about. While I prefer to read many of the epic fantasy books a chapter or two at a time, this one could easily be read in one go, and perhaps should. Continuing directly from where The Children of Llyr left off (#33, above), we follow four main characters, two men and two women, through seven years of mysterious hardship. Legend is woven upon legend, and Walton makes clear what could easily become intricate muddiness in the hands of a lesser craftsperson. The simplicity of the storytelling harkens back to my recent reread of The Odyssey, translated by Lattimore.
Not only is there great storytelling going on here, but there are ample amounts of wisdom scattered throughout the novel as well. I cannot think of any book in the main series that is more cinematic. It would make such a terrific epic in the right screenwriter and director's hands. I was unfamiliar with the Mabinogian before Walton's works came about. It is one of those confusing legends with too many characters, too many plots, and too many levels of beings. Walton takes the complicated and simplifies it to the point where things are easily understood in the first reading. As a result, the reader is able to focus on other aspects besides the plot, and reading this book is an enlightening and highly entertaining way to spend one's time. This is my favourite of the three books so far. It is lighter in tone than the second book, and has a charm that is hard to describe. Perhaps it is best expressed by the appearance of a "bogey," near the end of the book. The fourth book in the set was not published by Ballantine until after the adult series had been cancelled, but it will still be included here, at the very end. Accessible to many children above the age of ten, especially if read to.
**** stars. Reviewed Dec. 16th/13
#52--Published September 1972
Great Short Novels of Adult Fantasy 1
Ed. Lin Carter
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
There are four novellas within, not five. Sprague de Camp and Pratt co-wrote the first one. As usual, Lin Carter had a brilliant idea in publishing this book. He says in his introduction that the stories were too long for his other anthologies and too short to work on their own. Writing with considerable optimism, he hoped to make this a series within a series, by adding one volume per year of novellas. Only two were published before the great Ballantine Fantasy downfall.
Wall of Serpents, by L. Sprague de Camp and Fletcher Pratt is a fun piece to read from the first page to the last. These two authors became quite famous for their Harold O-Shea stories, and after reading this one (first time published in paperback) I want to seek them all out. The mixture of humour and magic will remind the reader of Leiber's Faffrd and Mouser stories, as well as the novels of Terry Pratchett. If you like either of those genres, you will love this story. Set in mythical Finland (in summer), there is a large cast of players, all of them indispensable and worth meeting. Pure enjoyment!
**** stars.
The Kingdom of the Dwarves, by THE Anatole France (of Nobel Prize fame), is a whimsical fairy tale that children might enjoy. It is hardly adult fantasy, despite Carter's assertion. Of course adults can enjoy it, too, and I did! It's a gentle tale, something Peter Jackson would likely turn into a bloody battle scene from beginning to end. There is some wonderful prose, and several pearls of wisdom scattered throughout. The tale is simple--dwarf king loves girl, but girl loves boy (and the nixie queen loves boy!). It is told in simple language, but never is it condescending. I'm glad I read it, and if you enjoy fairy tales, you will enjoy it, too. It would make a wonderful professional puppet presentation!
*** stars
The Maker of Moons, by Robert W. Chambers, is one of those rare stories one always hopes to come across in such anthologies! Written in 1895, it is so close to something Lovecraft would have penned that it is quite astonishing. Using ignorance among the 1895 general reading population of central China, a fantastic and devilish organization is crafted and brought to the woods of Maine, near the border with Canada. The story is amazing in concept, and executed much better than most Lovecraft stories. In all four of these mini-reviews I do not wish to give away any spoilers, nor say much except whether if it is worth your time to read them. This one is very inventive, and worth many readings.
**** stars
The Hollow Land, by William Morris, was written when he was 22. It is the shortest of the four tales, and though perhaps the least satisfying from a literary standpoint, it has all the hallmarks of a good fantasy tale. This late in the series most of Morris' major fantasy masterpieces had already been published, and combined with the fact that this is the only short fantasy tale by the author, Lin Carter was eventually going to reprint every one of his fantasy novels. I, for one, would like to have seen them all in print under the sign of the Unicorn. Only one more novel by Morris would be published. This tale is a strange one, taking us far from the beaten path. What I liked most of all, besides the jarring interplay between worlds, is how the knight never knew if his life had been devoted to God or to the devil. A very original story.
*** stars. Reviews completed Jan. 13, 2014
There are four novellas within, not five. Sprague de Camp and Pratt co-wrote the first one. As usual, Lin Carter had a brilliant idea in publishing this book. He says in his introduction that the stories were too long for his other anthologies and too short to work on their own. Writing with considerable optimism, he hoped to make this a series within a series, by adding one volume per year of novellas. Only two were published before the great Ballantine Fantasy downfall.
Wall of Serpents, by L. Sprague de Camp and Fletcher Pratt is a fun piece to read from the first page to the last. These two authors became quite famous for their Harold O-Shea stories, and after reading this one (first time published in paperback) I want to seek them all out. The mixture of humour and magic will remind the reader of Leiber's Faffrd and Mouser stories, as well as the novels of Terry Pratchett. If you like either of those genres, you will love this story. Set in mythical Finland (in summer), there is a large cast of players, all of them indispensable and worth meeting. Pure enjoyment!
**** stars.
The Kingdom of the Dwarves, by THE Anatole France (of Nobel Prize fame), is a whimsical fairy tale that children might enjoy. It is hardly adult fantasy, despite Carter's assertion. Of course adults can enjoy it, too, and I did! It's a gentle tale, something Peter Jackson would likely turn into a bloody battle scene from beginning to end. There is some wonderful prose, and several pearls of wisdom scattered throughout. The tale is simple--dwarf king loves girl, but girl loves boy (and the nixie queen loves boy!). It is told in simple language, but never is it condescending. I'm glad I read it, and if you enjoy fairy tales, you will enjoy it, too. It would make a wonderful professional puppet presentation!
*** stars
The Maker of Moons, by Robert W. Chambers, is one of those rare stories one always hopes to come across in such anthologies! Written in 1895, it is so close to something Lovecraft would have penned that it is quite astonishing. Using ignorance among the 1895 general reading population of central China, a fantastic and devilish organization is crafted and brought to the woods of Maine, near the border with Canada. The story is amazing in concept, and executed much better than most Lovecraft stories. In all four of these mini-reviews I do not wish to give away any spoilers, nor say much except whether if it is worth your time to read them. This one is very inventive, and worth many readings.
**** stars
The Hollow Land, by William Morris, was written when he was 22. It is the shortest of the four tales, and though perhaps the least satisfying from a literary standpoint, it has all the hallmarks of a good fantasy tale. This late in the series most of Morris' major fantasy masterpieces had already been published, and combined with the fact that this is the only short fantasy tale by the author, Lin Carter was eventually going to reprint every one of his fantasy novels. I, for one, would like to have seen them all in print under the sign of the Unicorn. Only one more novel by Morris would be published. This tale is a strange one, taking us far from the beaten path. What I liked most of all, besides the jarring interplay between worlds, is how the knight never knew if his life had been devoted to God or to the devil. A very original story.
*** stars. Reviews completed Jan. 13, 2014
#53--Published November 1972
Evenor
George MacDonald
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
The title of this volume is misleading--Lin Carter took it upon himself to title it. There are actually three MacDonald novellas inside, each one being amongst the most intriguing fairy tales ever written. If you have never read MacDonald before, this is the place to begin. If this volume does not convince you that he is one of the best there is, then nothing else he ever wrote will. All of his stories, from his two fantasy novels already published in this series (Lilith, #5 and Phantastes, #14) and these shorter tales have such a freshness and crafty, sly innocence about them that they immediately remind me of the best stories from my childhood. Reading them as an adult is about as uplifting an experience as a lover of fantasy can have. Yes, the three stories in Evenor might work for some children, whose reading levels and sophistication have increased a lot since my childhood reading days. However, only an adult will have the perspective and worldliness to fully appreciate all that is going on.
The Wise Woman is totally and completely brilliant, and should be required reading of all new parents. I could not put this one down once I began. Ever wonder why the world is so messed up, and it seems to be getting worse? Why are kids shooting up schools and malls and college campuses? Could it possibly have something to do with bad parenting? Who can say. The fact is that once a child has been spoiled (and I don't necessarily mean in the traditional sense, as some are "spoiled" or "ruined" by lack of suitable attention and love as much as having too much), it is almost impossible to fix. We encounter two very different little girls in this story, one a princess who was given everything (except the moon, and she was none too pleased) and the other a shepherd' daughter. This second girl had very little physical possessions, but that did not stop her parents from spoiling her. She was overpraised for everything she did, whether praise was deserved or not. It is the unenviable job of the Wise Woman to try and turn the girls around and make them into decent human beings. Though the story is obviously dated and some of the morals belong to another time, it is amazing how timely and relevant much of the story remains. And whether you've raised little monsters or little angels (or, like most of us, someone in-between), you will be entranced by this fairy tale from the first page till the last. A highlight of the fantasy series.
The title of this volume is misleading--Lin Carter took it upon himself to title it. There are actually three MacDonald novellas inside, each one being amongst the most intriguing fairy tales ever written. If you have never read MacDonald before, this is the place to begin. If this volume does not convince you that he is one of the best there is, then nothing else he ever wrote will. All of his stories, from his two fantasy novels already published in this series (Lilith, #5 and Phantastes, #14) and these shorter tales have such a freshness and crafty, sly innocence about them that they immediately remind me of the best stories from my childhood. Reading them as an adult is about as uplifting an experience as a lover of fantasy can have. Yes, the three stories in Evenor might work for some children, whose reading levels and sophistication have increased a lot since my childhood reading days. However, only an adult will have the perspective and worldliness to fully appreciate all that is going on.
The Wise Woman is totally and completely brilliant, and should be required reading of all new parents. I could not put this one down once I began. Ever wonder why the world is so messed up, and it seems to be getting worse? Why are kids shooting up schools and malls and college campuses? Could it possibly have something to do with bad parenting? Who can say. The fact is that once a child has been spoiled (and I don't necessarily mean in the traditional sense, as some are "spoiled" or "ruined" by lack of suitable attention and love as much as having too much), it is almost impossible to fix. We encounter two very different little girls in this story, one a princess who was given everything (except the moon, and she was none too pleased) and the other a shepherd' daughter. This second girl had very little physical possessions, but that did not stop her parents from spoiling her. She was overpraised for everything she did, whether praise was deserved or not. It is the unenviable job of the Wise Woman to try and turn the girls around and make them into decent human beings. Though the story is obviously dated and some of the morals belong to another time, it is amazing how timely and relevant much of the story remains. And whether you've raised little monsters or little angels (or, like most of us, someone in-between), you will be entranced by this fairy tale from the first page till the last. A highlight of the fantasy series.
**** stars.
The Carasoyn is likewise a tale that should not be missed. The title refers to a rare wine that must be procured by the hero to rescue a young maiden from the clutches of a band of fairies. The set up to the story, where a simple shepherd's son (Colin) reroutes his local fast-moving brook through his hut, thus setting up his encounter with the fairy queen, is sheer childhood bliss. Who would not have wanted to do what Colin did with that little stream? And away he goes on an adventure that will take him many years to complete. Again it is a wise woman who comes to his aid. His time spent with a certain blacksmith and his helpers is one of the most unforgettable parts of any book I have ever read! A delight, and will be read many more times.
The Carasoyn is likewise a tale that should not be missed. The title refers to a rare wine that must be procured by the hero to rescue a young maiden from the clutches of a band of fairies. The set up to the story, where a simple shepherd's son (Colin) reroutes his local fast-moving brook through his hut, thus setting up his encounter with the fairy queen, is sheer childhood bliss. Who would not have wanted to do what Colin did with that little stream? And away he goes on an adventure that will take him many years to complete. Again it is a wise woman who comes to his aid. His time spent with a certain blacksmith and his helpers is one of the most unforgettable parts of any book I have ever read! A delight, and will be read many more times.
**** stars.
The Golden Key, though one of MacDonald's most famous tales, is nowhere as complex or interesting as the first two stories. Encountered elsewhere on its own, it would certainly impress with its hyper-imaginative story and settings. I wish Lin carter had placed this tale first in the volume. By the time we have read the first two stories, it would take something so extraordinary to keep the pace going that I'm not certain such a story exists anywhere. But I love the Golden Key, and it does contain some of the finest prose I have ever read. It's the kind of story that might be rushed through in one go. However, some of the imagery should be allowed to linger in the mind, and some of the words, too. Perhaps it would be best read aloud as a bedtime story, not necessarily to a child.
The Golden Key, though one of MacDonald's most famous tales, is nowhere as complex or interesting as the first two stories. Encountered elsewhere on its own, it would certainly impress with its hyper-imaginative story and settings. I wish Lin carter had placed this tale first in the volume. By the time we have read the first two stories, it would take something so extraordinary to keep the pace going that I'm not certain such a story exists anywhere. But I love the Golden Key, and it does contain some of the finest prose I have ever read. It's the kind of story that might be rushed through in one go. However, some of the imagery should be allowed to linger in the mind, and some of the words, too. Perhaps it would be best read aloud as a bedtime story, not necessarily to a child.
*** 1/2 stars. Reviewed Jan. 27th, 2014
#54--Published January 1973
Orlando Furioso
Ariosto
Cover art by David Johnston
One of the real tragedies of the collapse of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series is that we never got more than one volume of Orlando Furioso, translated by Richard Hodgens. Judging by the length of my full copy of the original poem, at least two more volumes would have been needed. And while the poem is great fun to read, there is no comparing the brilliant translation that Lin Carter brought to us in that fateful year of 1973. This would be the last full year of publishing the series, and no further Orlando books would be forthcoming. If only...
This is one of the most original stories in all of fantasy, and though told to us by a writer who may have had attention deficit disorder, each of the many tales within a larger tale is fresh and well worth reading. Skipping about from one hero or heroine to another as frequently as he does, Ariosto does a good job of keeping things together. He may leave a particular storyline for a chapter or two, but always returns to fill us in on what has been happening to them. Reading this volume, it is easy to imagine how enraptured other writers would have been reading this, especially Tolkien and Morris. With Volume One subtitled "The Ring of Angelica," Tolkien fans should instantly sit up and take notice. Angelica's magic ring makes the person invisible who kisses it. Not only that, but the truth is revealed, whether looking at a person or a place. Illusion has no chance against the wearer of the ring.
Readers of this series may remember encountering a sample of Hodgens' translation of Orlando in an earlier volume. "Golden Cities, Far," (Vol. 22) included chapter 12, "The Palace of Illusions." As entertaining as that small selection was, reading it in context puts a rather more interesting perspective on the tale. Though some readers might be scared off by the fact that they are reading something really old, and I doubt this volume sold enough copies to warrant further volumes, to me it remains one of the highlights of the series. There are parts that are laugh out loud funny, too! Highly recommended, and certainly of little or no interest to children.
One of the real tragedies of the collapse of the Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series is that we never got more than one volume of Orlando Furioso, translated by Richard Hodgens. Judging by the length of my full copy of the original poem, at least two more volumes would have been needed. And while the poem is great fun to read, there is no comparing the brilliant translation that Lin Carter brought to us in that fateful year of 1973. This would be the last full year of publishing the series, and no further Orlando books would be forthcoming. If only...
This is one of the most original stories in all of fantasy, and though told to us by a writer who may have had attention deficit disorder, each of the many tales within a larger tale is fresh and well worth reading. Skipping about from one hero or heroine to another as frequently as he does, Ariosto does a good job of keeping things together. He may leave a particular storyline for a chapter or two, but always returns to fill us in on what has been happening to them. Reading this volume, it is easy to imagine how enraptured other writers would have been reading this, especially Tolkien and Morris. With Volume One subtitled "The Ring of Angelica," Tolkien fans should instantly sit up and take notice. Angelica's magic ring makes the person invisible who kisses it. Not only that, but the truth is revealed, whether looking at a person or a place. Illusion has no chance against the wearer of the ring.
Readers of this series may remember encountering a sample of Hodgens' translation of Orlando in an earlier volume. "Golden Cities, Far," (Vol. 22) included chapter 12, "The Palace of Illusions." As entertaining as that small selection was, reading it in context puts a rather more interesting perspective on the tale. Though some readers might be scared off by the fact that they are reading something really old, and I doubt this volume sold enough copies to warrant further volumes, to me it remains one of the highlights of the series. There are parts that are laugh out loud funny, too! Highly recommended, and certainly of little or no interest to children.
**** stars. Reviewed Feb. 15th/14
#55--Published February 1973
The Charwoman's Shadow
Lord Dunsany
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
The finest of the three Dunsany novels that Ballantine published in the series, it has the same dream-like prose quality that we enjoyed in Don Rodriguez: Chronicles of Shadow Valley (#30, above). Despite a smaller geographical setting, the story is expansive and wondrous, and the prose rolls off the pages like sunlight on glistening mountains. There are a number of major characters, including Ramon Alonzo and his sister Mirandola; the Magician; and the Charwoman. One might wish to add various shadows to the character list. Ever wonder what happens if a magician captures your shadow, and what he uses it for? Wonder no more, for the question is answered, in all its horror and loneliness. Recurring minor characters that add greatly to the story are the priest Father Joseph, the Duke of Shadow Valley, Peter the messenger, the mother and father of Ramon Alonzo and Mirandola, the neighbour Gulvarez (who raises good pigs), and various villagers from Aragona.
The story is simplistic and slim, telling how Ramon Alonzo sets out to magically fill Mirandola's empty dowry box. He loses his shadow to the magician as part of the bargain of being told how to manufacture gold. However, soon Mirandola tells him to forget about the gold and make up a love potion for her instead. The fun begins soon afterwards. Along with this task, he has pledged to return the old charwoman's shadow to her, so she can return safely to her home in Aragona. She also traded hers to the magician, many years earlier. It becomes apparent that the good Christian people of Aragona do not welcome people to their village who have no shadow, or even if they have a false one that refuses to change as the sun moves across the sky. A subplot concerns the marriage of Mirandola, which is woven effortlessly into the whole.
Ramon Alonzo is no special hero, but an everyday sort of fellow who would rather flirt with the village girls of Aragona than study the pedantic lessons offered by the magician. However, he is honest and true, and chivalry and family come first. Even when he does study, he thinks himself a much better student than he actually is.
Dunsany fills in this meager plot with some of the finest fantasy imagery ever written. This was one of the first books of the series I read back in the 70s (this is my original copy from 1973), and remains one of my favourites. Dunsany somehow creates poetry with his prose, something a lot of writers would be happy to do. He does not require a lot of detail to describe a place or a person, but knows just how much to offer before leaving the rest up to his reader's imagination. The magician's house is one good example of this. Also, his description of shadows and how they interact with the world has to be one of the highlights of fantasy writing. This is a beautiful adult fairy tale, child-like, sweet, and filled with wonderful characters and places. Highly recommended!
**** stars. Reviewed March 8th/14
The finest of the three Dunsany novels that Ballantine published in the series, it has the same dream-like prose quality that we enjoyed in Don Rodriguez: Chronicles of Shadow Valley (#30, above). Despite a smaller geographical setting, the story is expansive and wondrous, and the prose rolls off the pages like sunlight on glistening mountains. There are a number of major characters, including Ramon Alonzo and his sister Mirandola; the Magician; and the Charwoman. One might wish to add various shadows to the character list. Ever wonder what happens if a magician captures your shadow, and what he uses it for? Wonder no more, for the question is answered, in all its horror and loneliness. Recurring minor characters that add greatly to the story are the priest Father Joseph, the Duke of Shadow Valley, Peter the messenger, the mother and father of Ramon Alonzo and Mirandola, the neighbour Gulvarez (who raises good pigs), and various villagers from Aragona.
The story is simplistic and slim, telling how Ramon Alonzo sets out to magically fill Mirandola's empty dowry box. He loses his shadow to the magician as part of the bargain of being told how to manufacture gold. However, soon Mirandola tells him to forget about the gold and make up a love potion for her instead. The fun begins soon afterwards. Along with this task, he has pledged to return the old charwoman's shadow to her, so she can return safely to her home in Aragona. She also traded hers to the magician, many years earlier. It becomes apparent that the good Christian people of Aragona do not welcome people to their village who have no shadow, or even if they have a false one that refuses to change as the sun moves across the sky. A subplot concerns the marriage of Mirandola, which is woven effortlessly into the whole.
Ramon Alonzo is no special hero, but an everyday sort of fellow who would rather flirt with the village girls of Aragona than study the pedantic lessons offered by the magician. However, he is honest and true, and chivalry and family come first. Even when he does study, he thinks himself a much better student than he actually is.
Dunsany fills in this meager plot with some of the finest fantasy imagery ever written. This was one of the first books of the series I read back in the 70s (this is my original copy from 1973), and remains one of my favourites. Dunsany somehow creates poetry with his prose, something a lot of writers would be happy to do. He does not require a lot of detail to describe a place or a person, but knows just how much to offer before leaving the rest up to his reader's imagination. The magician's house is one good example of this. Also, his description of shadows and how they interact with the world has to be one of the highlights of fantasy writing. This is a beautiful adult fairy tale, child-like, sweet, and filled with wonderful characters and places. Highly recommended!
**** stars. Reviewed March 8th/14
#56--Published March 1973
Great Short Novels of Adult Fantasy 2
Lin Carter, Ed.
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
Once again Carter has collected a hodge podge of shorter tales, with four authors represented (see also #51). The stories vary widely in length, though the quality is fairly consistent. I really like this idea of finding suitable space for short novels, and Carter was planning more in the series. Alas, this was the final one.
The first "short novel," Woman in the Mirror, is actually lifted directly from "Phantastes" (see #14, above), Chapter Thirteen, to be precise. Carter doesn't tell us this, but merely that he likes the way MacDonald includes stories within stories in his longer writing. Assuming that not everyone had read the earlier novel, or that they might have forgotten the present story, he publishes it again. It's a good story, and I thought so the first time I read it. In fact, it was so good that I easily remembered it this time around. It concerns a special mirror (a theme we also see in "Lilith"), and he makes excellent use of the subject. Not that suitable for children. *** stars.
The Repairer of Reputations is next, penned by Robert W. Chambers. This one reminded me just a little of "The Man Who was Thursday," though both that novel and this story turn unique corners and actually have little in common. This one is closer to Poe than Chesterton, with enough horror, especially near the end, to make one think that the fantasy element perhaps plays second fiddle. Worth a look, but certainly not of any interest to children. ** 1/2 stars.
The Transmutation of Ling, by Ernest Bramah, is one of those stories you will either love or hate. In fact, Brahma's Orientalist writing is like that--love him or leave him. Carter loves him, and so do I. I think Bramah is one of the most refreshing breezes to blow through the entire Adult Fantasy series, and I wish I had more work by this author. It's pure escapism, but with solid roots in great storytelling, exotic settings, and colourful characters. It is filled with gracious charm, unrelenting wit, and an eye for politics and their practitioners that spares no one. I don't know how else a story of this length (or this type!) would have ever been published in my lifetime, so thank you once again, Mr. Carter. *** 1/2 stars.
Once again Carter has collected a hodge podge of shorter tales, with four authors represented (see also #51). The stories vary widely in length, though the quality is fairly consistent. I really like this idea of finding suitable space for short novels, and Carter was planning more in the series. Alas, this was the final one.
The first "short novel," Woman in the Mirror, is actually lifted directly from "Phantastes" (see #14, above), Chapter Thirteen, to be precise. Carter doesn't tell us this, but merely that he likes the way MacDonald includes stories within stories in his longer writing. Assuming that not everyone had read the earlier novel, or that they might have forgotten the present story, he publishes it again. It's a good story, and I thought so the first time I read it. In fact, it was so good that I easily remembered it this time around. It concerns a special mirror (a theme we also see in "Lilith"), and he makes excellent use of the subject. Not that suitable for children. *** stars.
The Repairer of Reputations is next, penned by Robert W. Chambers. This one reminded me just a little of "The Man Who was Thursday," though both that novel and this story turn unique corners and actually have little in common. This one is closer to Poe than Chesterton, with enough horror, especially near the end, to make one think that the fantasy element perhaps plays second fiddle. Worth a look, but certainly not of any interest to children. ** 1/2 stars.
The Transmutation of Ling, by Ernest Bramah, is one of those stories you will either love or hate. In fact, Brahma's Orientalist writing is like that--love him or leave him. Carter loves him, and so do I. I think Bramah is one of the most refreshing breezes to blow through the entire Adult Fantasy series, and I wish I had more work by this author. It's pure escapism, but with solid roots in great storytelling, exotic settings, and colourful characters. It is filled with gracious charm, unrelenting wit, and an eye for politics and their practitioners that spares no one. I don't know how else a story of this length (or this type!) would have ever been published in my lifetime, so thank you once again, Mr. Carter. *** 1/2 stars.
The Lavender Dragon, by Eden Phillpotts, is the longest tale in the book, and the most difficult one to review. Though it has a loose fairy tale cloth draped over all, the story is really the author's version of a Utopia, and we are subject to quite a few long speeches about what is wrong with our world and society, and what needs to happen to make things right. Nearly every serious author makes a stab at this sort of thing in one form or another at some point in their life. Star Trek tried it out nearly every episode. The difference here is that the Utopia created by the dragon was never meant to last forever. Instead, the people within were meant to eventually leave the circle (Dragonville) and bring their new found ideals and hopes to the outside world. Still, it's another stab at promoting Communism, which, as we all know, works perfectly, right? While the politics might turn off some readers, there is no argument from me with Phillpotts as to what is wrong with society (it boils down to Greed and Creed). Will we ever get past such hurdles and move on to making life better for everyone, instead of just a few percent of society (Mapman laughs maniacally)? Anyway, by skipping over some of the dragon's longer speeches, children would enjoy hearing this tale of a very old dragon who hauls away people to his city who he thinks might fit in. Usually, they are people who did not fit in elsewhere. Though they will find the ending very sad, I found it uplifting and liberating. Is it for you? You never know. You might get hit with some ideas that have been dormant within you for some time. Or, you may fall asleep as you read.
*** stars. Reviewed April 16th/14
#57--Published May 1973
The Sundering Flood
William Morris
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
This is William Morris light. It is probably not a good novel to begin one's study of Morris' fantasy prose. Lin Carter knew this, and published it as the last Morris novel in the series. It is also the last fantasy work by the master, who completed it just before his death. It is filled with charm and innocence, and while there are bad people and evil deeds within, the people aren't terribly bad and the deeds not terribly evil. To readers who love the brutality and hatred that lie within the pages of "Game of Thrones," to take one example, there will be little here for you to admire and enjoy. Personally, I would reread the Sundering Flood before any of the Thrones novels.
There are Morris haters out there, often because of the way he writes, a pseudo olde English rather than just plain English. The introductory essay by Carter deals directly and extremely well with this aspect of his writing, as does the back cover quote by L. Sprague de Camp. Those two are fans of the language used, and so am I. It takes about 4 pages to get used to, and afterwards barely gets in the way. Get over it.
The story is simple. A young boy and girl meet one fine day. They live on opposite sides of a vast, violent river, one that is impossible to cross. At one section, the river narrows but becomes even more violent. However, the two friends can speak across it to one another, and the boy can shoot small gifts over to his friend with his bow and arrows. They grow up, become separated by war and raiders, and the story deals with the adventures each one has before they are happily reunited (yes, it's a spoiler, but this is Morris, and I said it was light).
Tolkien was a great admirer of Morris, and it shows. Heroes in LOR seem to be lifted right from Morris. We meet a Strider-like character, as well as a mystical man, with some aspects of Bombadil, and he even has some Elvishness in him. There is magic in the book, provided by Dwarves (!), a kind witch woman, and that mystical man who appears now and again.
I would still recommend all of the Morris fantasy novels. The greatest is "Well at the World`s End", and I would recommend beginning with that double novel. However, if you are weary of the violent, lascivious and totally uncaring form of novel that passes for fantasy today, then "Sundering Flood" might provide a welcome breath of fresh air. It would make a lovely bedtime reading project for younger children (8-10) if read aloud by an adult, as I doubt they would enjoy reading it themselves because of the unusual use of language.
This is William Morris light. It is probably not a good novel to begin one's study of Morris' fantasy prose. Lin Carter knew this, and published it as the last Morris novel in the series. It is also the last fantasy work by the master, who completed it just before his death. It is filled with charm and innocence, and while there are bad people and evil deeds within, the people aren't terribly bad and the deeds not terribly evil. To readers who love the brutality and hatred that lie within the pages of "Game of Thrones," to take one example, there will be little here for you to admire and enjoy. Personally, I would reread the Sundering Flood before any of the Thrones novels.
There are Morris haters out there, often because of the way he writes, a pseudo olde English rather than just plain English. The introductory essay by Carter deals directly and extremely well with this aspect of his writing, as does the back cover quote by L. Sprague de Camp. Those two are fans of the language used, and so am I. It takes about 4 pages to get used to, and afterwards barely gets in the way. Get over it.
The story is simple. A young boy and girl meet one fine day. They live on opposite sides of a vast, violent river, one that is impossible to cross. At one section, the river narrows but becomes even more violent. However, the two friends can speak across it to one another, and the boy can shoot small gifts over to his friend with his bow and arrows. They grow up, become separated by war and raiders, and the story deals with the adventures each one has before they are happily reunited (yes, it's a spoiler, but this is Morris, and I said it was light).
Tolkien was a great admirer of Morris, and it shows. Heroes in LOR seem to be lifted right from Morris. We meet a Strider-like character, as well as a mystical man, with some aspects of Bombadil, and he even has some Elvishness in him. There is magic in the book, provided by Dwarves (!), a kind witch woman, and that mystical man who appears now and again.
I would still recommend all of the Morris fantasy novels. The greatest is "Well at the World`s End", and I would recommend beginning with that double novel. However, if you are weary of the violent, lascivious and totally uncaring form of novel that passes for fantasy today, then "Sundering Flood" might provide a welcome breath of fresh air. It would make a lovely bedtime reading project for younger children (8-10) if read aloud by an adult, as I doubt they would enjoy reading it themselves because of the unusual use of language.
*** stars. Reviewed May 20th/14
#58--Published June 1973
Imaginary Worlds
Lin Carter
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
This is Lin Carter's fantasy novel manifesto. Not only does he get to tell us of the origins of the modern fantasy novel, and bring us up to date (1972) on contemporary happenings, but he gets to give his opinions on most fantasy writers, historic and modern. I'm guessing this book made him a few friends and a whole lot of enemies. Who else had the guts at the time to say that Tolkien's masterpiece wasn't really so great! He pissed me off by dissing the three later books of E.R. Eddison, though there was unbounded praise for "Worm Ouroboros." And then there are the dozens of times he brings up his own writing and works. It's impossible to critique this work fairly. I wish to give him both a punch in the nose for being such an egoist, and a hand shake for a job well done.
There are eleven chapters and two appendices (and an intro). Chapter One discusses Carter's plausible theory that it was William Morris who got the ball rolling for modern fantasy writers. Chapter Two discusses Eddison, Dunsany, and Cabell. I find it amusing that his reasons for dismissing Eddison's "Mistress of Mistresses" et al are suddenly forgotten when it comes to Cabell, whose writings are even more esoteric and less action packed (yes, Carter prefers lots of action), and also that of Katherine Kurtz, whose style is so obviously influenced by mature Eddison (and both from Shakespeare). Chapter Three discusses the rise of pulp magazines and novels, with Chapter Four zeroing in on "Unknown". I liked these two chapters a lot, and highly recommend them. Next up for discussion is the Night Land, along with C.S. Lewis. Another score.
Chapter Six is spent carefully trying to convince us that Tolkien did not create such a great work after all. Can you imagine? Reasons? No religion in LOR, and very little to do with women. I agree that Tolkien had issues with female characters, though I believe he more than redeemed himself with Eowyn. She is quite possibly the finest female character in any fantasy novel, and is put through the ringer by Tolkien. And religion? To this day I thank Tolkien for finally being the person to write a great fantasy novel with NO obvious religious history, abbey ruins, or sacrificial practices in it whatsoever! It is one of the reasons I love the books so much. I always find the "creation beginnings" of fantasy works (including the bible) to be extremely boring and unnecessary. Do I sense a bit of professional jealousy in Carter for finding fault with Tolkien? Yup. Along with probably every other writer at the time. And Silmarillion had not come out yet, either, which does explain Tolkien's gods and how everything was created. I'm sure Beethoven had his detractors, too (though they are not remembered too well today).
Chapter Seven discusses Howard and those who came after. I couldn't care less for heroes (or heroines) who get everything they want through sheer muscle power. That is the most ludicrous method of making someone a hero I ever heard of, and since gunpowder was invented it hasn't worked much since. However, the discussion of Sword and Sorcery, especially where it pertains to Fritz Leiber, is a joy to read. Carter can certainly drop names, and hung out with the best of the best. Chapter Eight discusses contemporaries of Carter, writing at the time the Ballantine Series was being published. As far as it goes, this is good, too, but watch out for those career-ending opinions.
The final three chapters give us Carter's advice on writing fantasy. Much of it is very good advice, too, and he takes both good and bad examples from the literature to illustrate his talk. However, there are so many references to his own stories that it all becomes quite tedious after a while. The first appendix gives references on most of the major writers discussed, while the second one gives readers the first published list of the Adult Fantasy Series to date.
While I did enjoy the book, and would go back to a few of the chapters again someday, I was hoping for more from this one. Still, it was the only work of its kind around for a very long time, and must have had some affect on writers. Hopefully it was positive. Recommended, with reservations. ** 1/2 stars. Reviewed July 14th, 2014
This is Lin Carter's fantasy novel manifesto. Not only does he get to tell us of the origins of the modern fantasy novel, and bring us up to date (1972) on contemporary happenings, but he gets to give his opinions on most fantasy writers, historic and modern. I'm guessing this book made him a few friends and a whole lot of enemies. Who else had the guts at the time to say that Tolkien's masterpiece wasn't really so great! He pissed me off by dissing the three later books of E.R. Eddison, though there was unbounded praise for "Worm Ouroboros." And then there are the dozens of times he brings up his own writing and works. It's impossible to critique this work fairly. I wish to give him both a punch in the nose for being such an egoist, and a hand shake for a job well done.
There are eleven chapters and two appendices (and an intro). Chapter One discusses Carter's plausible theory that it was William Morris who got the ball rolling for modern fantasy writers. Chapter Two discusses Eddison, Dunsany, and Cabell. I find it amusing that his reasons for dismissing Eddison's "Mistress of Mistresses" et al are suddenly forgotten when it comes to Cabell, whose writings are even more esoteric and less action packed (yes, Carter prefers lots of action), and also that of Katherine Kurtz, whose style is so obviously influenced by mature Eddison (and both from Shakespeare). Chapter Three discusses the rise of pulp magazines and novels, with Chapter Four zeroing in on "Unknown". I liked these two chapters a lot, and highly recommend them. Next up for discussion is the Night Land, along with C.S. Lewis. Another score.
Chapter Six is spent carefully trying to convince us that Tolkien did not create such a great work after all. Can you imagine? Reasons? No religion in LOR, and very little to do with women. I agree that Tolkien had issues with female characters, though I believe he more than redeemed himself with Eowyn. She is quite possibly the finest female character in any fantasy novel, and is put through the ringer by Tolkien. And religion? To this day I thank Tolkien for finally being the person to write a great fantasy novel with NO obvious religious history, abbey ruins, or sacrificial practices in it whatsoever! It is one of the reasons I love the books so much. I always find the "creation beginnings" of fantasy works (including the bible) to be extremely boring and unnecessary. Do I sense a bit of professional jealousy in Carter for finding fault with Tolkien? Yup. Along with probably every other writer at the time. And Silmarillion had not come out yet, either, which does explain Tolkien's gods and how everything was created. I'm sure Beethoven had his detractors, too (though they are not remembered too well today).
Chapter Seven discusses Howard and those who came after. I couldn't care less for heroes (or heroines) who get everything they want through sheer muscle power. That is the most ludicrous method of making someone a hero I ever heard of, and since gunpowder was invented it hasn't worked much since. However, the discussion of Sword and Sorcery, especially where it pertains to Fritz Leiber, is a joy to read. Carter can certainly drop names, and hung out with the best of the best. Chapter Eight discusses contemporaries of Carter, writing at the time the Ballantine Series was being published. As far as it goes, this is good, too, but watch out for those career-ending opinions.
The final three chapters give us Carter's advice on writing fantasy. Much of it is very good advice, too, and he takes both good and bad examples from the literature to illustrate his talk. However, there are so many references to his own stories that it all becomes quite tedious after a while. The first appendix gives references on most of the major writers discussed, while the second one gives readers the first published list of the Adult Fantasy Series to date.
While I did enjoy the book, and would go back to a few of the chapters again someday, I was hoping for more from this one. Still, it was the only work of its kind around for a very long time, and must have had some affect on writers. Hopefully it was positive. Recommended, with reservations. ** 1/2 stars. Reviewed July 14th, 2014
#59--Published July 1973
Poseidonis
Clark Ashton Smith
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
For this reviewer, Clark Ashton Smith has been the major new discovery as I work my way through the entire series. He was completely unknown to me, even when I had collected some of the earlier volumes many years ago and read them. There was no Smith in my collection until I went after the entire Ballantine series. While most of the books were located in the Detroit area (John King Books, Detroit, along with bookstores in the suburbs and Ann Arbor), I did have to resort to Amazon to complete the collection, including most of the Smith volumes. Smith did not write novels, only short stories. In a few instances his stories are linked by theme, but in many cases they are simply one-offs written mainly for the pulp magazines in the 40s.
Poseidonis (Atlantis) is a mini-theme employed by Smith in six short stories. They constitute perhaps the finest tales in this volume, and one can only lament that more were not written. At one point in his life Smith suddenly stopped writing. Perhaps he experienced an other-worldly event that made him leave his macabre worlds behind him forever. With his fomenting and fervent imagination, he certainly had more stories he could have told.
The Muse of Atlantis is the author's introduction to his theme, and it is less than a page.
The Last Incantation throws us headlong into Smith's version of the lost continent, as we get to meet its greatest wizard, Malygris, on his deathbed. What is the dying wish of this powerful mage? Think Orsen Welles and "Rosebud," only in this case it wasn't only his lost youth, but his lost sweetheart, too.
In The Death of Malygris we get further proof of how great a wizard he was. Smith is at his finest in this tale of macabre revenge from the grave. Imagery from this story has staying power.
Tolometh is one of very few poems included, and tells of a once-powerful god within his temple, now sunken and forgotten.
The Double Shadow tells of a wizard's apprentice and his fate, which was written down on a scroll by the apprentice and tossed into the sea within a sealed cylinder. Pharpetron lived apart with his master for six years in secluded studies of wizardry, and this tale is of their discovery one day of a triangular disc with strange engravings, and of the master's non-stop efforts to translate the writing. This is a Smith classic, worth more than one reading.
A Voyage to Sfanomoe leads us into the realm of science fiction, as we hear of two great scientists from Atlantis and how they escaped their continent's catastrophe by building a spaceship and voyaging to Venus. Definitely weird.
A Vintage from Atlantis tells what happens when some recently discovered ancient wine is uncorked and drunk by some sailors of today.
Atlantis is a very short poem describing the watery grave of a once fabulous realm.
In Lemuria, another very short poem, opens the next section of the Ballantine volume.
An Offering to the Moon tells of two modern archeologists, with one of them having answers to questions about their current excavations that he could not possibly know by any normal means. Good, solid Smith, if predictable.
The Uncharted Isle is the story of a shipwrecked sailor who lands on an uncharted South Pacific Island, where even the stars at night are different. He discovers some strange and uncouth goings-on, barely escaping with his life. Once back in modern civilization, will anyone believe his tale of an ancient race discovered when he was delirious with fever and thirst? Like many of Smith's stories, this would have made a great Twilight Zone episode.
Lemurienne ends this section, being a poem of four lines.
The Epiphany of Death was Smith's 12th story to be written, and the only one concerning the lost city of Ptolemides. Taking a modern day scenario and combining it with ancient myths, half-legends and mysterious undertones of certain knowledge is a well-known and oft-used Smith formula that usually works well. Not one of his strongest works, this one has a Poe-like quality to it that makes it worthwhile.
Other Realms is the final section of the volume, where Lin Carter simply piles on some great, unthemed stories written by Smith that seem to relate to lost worlds. Carter had plans to publish all of Smith's work, but this turned out to be the final volume of such in the Ballantine series.
For this reviewer, Clark Ashton Smith has been the major new discovery as I work my way through the entire series. He was completely unknown to me, even when I had collected some of the earlier volumes many years ago and read them. There was no Smith in my collection until I went after the entire Ballantine series. While most of the books were located in the Detroit area (John King Books, Detroit, along with bookstores in the suburbs and Ann Arbor), I did have to resort to Amazon to complete the collection, including most of the Smith volumes. Smith did not write novels, only short stories. In a few instances his stories are linked by theme, but in many cases they are simply one-offs written mainly for the pulp magazines in the 40s.
Poseidonis (Atlantis) is a mini-theme employed by Smith in six short stories. They constitute perhaps the finest tales in this volume, and one can only lament that more were not written. At one point in his life Smith suddenly stopped writing. Perhaps he experienced an other-worldly event that made him leave his macabre worlds behind him forever. With his fomenting and fervent imagination, he certainly had more stories he could have told.
The Muse of Atlantis is the author's introduction to his theme, and it is less than a page.
The Last Incantation throws us headlong into Smith's version of the lost continent, as we get to meet its greatest wizard, Malygris, on his deathbed. What is the dying wish of this powerful mage? Think Orsen Welles and "Rosebud," only in this case it wasn't only his lost youth, but his lost sweetheart, too.
In The Death of Malygris we get further proof of how great a wizard he was. Smith is at his finest in this tale of macabre revenge from the grave. Imagery from this story has staying power.
Tolometh is one of very few poems included, and tells of a once-powerful god within his temple, now sunken and forgotten.
The Double Shadow tells of a wizard's apprentice and his fate, which was written down on a scroll by the apprentice and tossed into the sea within a sealed cylinder. Pharpetron lived apart with his master for six years in secluded studies of wizardry, and this tale is of their discovery one day of a triangular disc with strange engravings, and of the master's non-stop efforts to translate the writing. This is a Smith classic, worth more than one reading.
A Voyage to Sfanomoe leads us into the realm of science fiction, as we hear of two great scientists from Atlantis and how they escaped their continent's catastrophe by building a spaceship and voyaging to Venus. Definitely weird.
A Vintage from Atlantis tells what happens when some recently discovered ancient wine is uncorked and drunk by some sailors of today.
Atlantis is a very short poem describing the watery grave of a once fabulous realm.
In Lemuria, another very short poem, opens the next section of the Ballantine volume.
An Offering to the Moon tells of two modern archeologists, with one of them having answers to questions about their current excavations that he could not possibly know by any normal means. Good, solid Smith, if predictable.
The Uncharted Isle is the story of a shipwrecked sailor who lands on an uncharted South Pacific Island, where even the stars at night are different. He discovers some strange and uncouth goings-on, barely escaping with his life. Once back in modern civilization, will anyone believe his tale of an ancient race discovered when he was delirious with fever and thirst? Like many of Smith's stories, this would have made a great Twilight Zone episode.
Lemurienne ends this section, being a poem of four lines.
The Epiphany of Death was Smith's 12th story to be written, and the only one concerning the lost city of Ptolemides. Taking a modern day scenario and combining it with ancient myths, half-legends and mysterious undertones of certain knowledge is a well-known and oft-used Smith formula that usually works well. Not one of his strongest works, this one has a Poe-like quality to it that makes it worthwhile.
Other Realms is the final section of the volume, where Lin Carter simply piles on some great, unthemed stories written by Smith that seem to relate to lost worlds. Carter had plans to publish all of Smith's work, but this turned out to be the final volume of such in the Ballantine series.
In Cocaigne is a one page poem in prose form. To me it hearkens back to the Bruegel painting.
Symposium of the Gorgon is a great story that does retain an unexpected surprise at the end. Smith meets Greek mythology, and we all win.
The Venus of Azombeii tells of one man's unique lifelong connection to Africa. When his dream of visiting it is finally realized, the tragic results are only discovered after his slow and painful death when his manuscript is read by a close friend.
The Isle of Saturn was inspired by a short quote by Plutarch, given at the beginning of the poem ("In one of these islands the barbarians feign that Saturn is held prisoner by Zeus.").
The Root of Ampoi is not the first story in this collection to harken back to Edgar Rice Burroughs. With its lost world theme, eight-foot tall race of women who rule over their ordinary-sized men, and an intrepid explorer caught up amidst the politics of a strange civilization, Smith had certainly read his Burroughs.
The Invisible City returns us to the world of science fiction, as two lost and very thirsty archeologists stumble upon an alien race living undetected in the middle of the Gobi desert. Smith tinges it with characteristic horror tones. Unique and worthwhile, and suitably creepy.
Amithaine is a poem about yet another lost city, with strong hints of Dunsany in the writing style.
The Willow Landscape is a very short, effective story about a Chinese scholar forced to sell all of his beloved and valuable possessions. However, his honesty and integrity is rewarded. For once, an untimely and hideous death is avoided. Well, the hideous part, anyway.
The Shadows is a two-pager that wraps us this volume, which is packed with treasure from beginning to end. Though a few of the tales may seem "old," Smith nearly always spins a great yarn, filled with darkness and shadow. This story ends with the ultimate darkness, as a gasping sun sets over the earth for the last time.
**** stars. Reviewed August 6th/14
#60--Published August 1973
Excalibur
Sanders Anne Laubenthal
Cover art by Gervasio Gallardo
I tried very hard to like this novel. The Adult Fantasy series is very stingy with Arthurian material (Lin Carter explains why in the essay to this volume). I was ready for an Arthurian tale, one I had never read nor heard of before collecting the entire series (note: this book I purchased is marked as once being in the library of Alan R. Losoff--are you out there, Alan?). Miss Laubenthal certainly knows her Arthurian mythos. In fact, if one is not steeped in it, reading this novel might be somewhat cumbersome. I know a heck of a lot about it myself, and I still felt left behind many times. One of the serious problems of this book is the constant and incessant name-dropping that occurs from the legends. When you read this book you should have a handy and thorough reference guide to Arthurian legend. A glossary or family tree would also have been handy.
The author tells a very beguiling tale. The sword Excalibur, along with the Holy Grail, have made it through the centuries and reside in Mobile, Alabama. Yes, you read that right. Mobile, Alabama. In the 1970s. And there are good reasons why this might have happened, all explained rather well. As I said, it is a beguiling tale. I did enjoy the earlier parts of the book, where Rhodri the archeologist and Linette first meet and begin to dig for the sword. There is considerable groundwork laid here, and the possibilities seem endless. However, the telling of the tale quickly goes off the rails. Miss Laubenthal, who only ever wrote one fantasy book, simply cannot tell a tale very well.
I could list many examples of why I think so. In general, I enjoyed reading the first few chapters. However, by the middle of the book it was a chore to keep reading. The story jumps around between no less than seven different characters, seen from their perspective, and it all becomes a bit too much. The fantasy and magic seem to come out of nowhere. From the here and now the book suddenly jumps into a land of unicorns, and more terror is thrown at the main characters than one book should ever throw. I always find it annoying in a story when the main characters (alias good guys) have to endure every conceivable kind of torture and hardship, despite having very limited constitutions, and the bad guys (in this case, girls) have more strength and power and capability than a plethora of fierce thunderstorms. Somehow the heroes endure, and somehow the bad guys lose.
What else did I find troubling? The author's sentences (and paragraphs and even chapters) can run on and on and on. One example:
"She felt the grief of Mor, the endless hate and despair; nothing was worth prizing in all creation, and nothing worth doing but spoiling the work of the Lord of Time who was blamed for that grief, no pleasure but a bitter joy in making other's too in tasting of the same cup--the Lord of Time too through them, that he too might know it." (p. 193)
That is one clumsy sentence, and there are many, many more. I mentioned unicorns a moment ago, but I did not mention moonlight. The book opens during a very rainy time, and contains one other rainy day as well. Apparently it is never cloudy at night in Mobile. The words "moon" and "moonlight," often combined with "pale" are used uncountable times in the novel, so much so that sometimes in one (long) paragraph it exceeds ten times! Enough with the moon!! We get it--it's always clear in Mobile at night and it's always a full moon!
I have yet to mention the thing I found most annoying: the use of simile. In any good story simile has its place. And Miss Laubenthal is quite good at them, and I could quote many lovely ones I wish I had written. The problem, however, is similar to the moonlight one. There are so many similies that they become a distraction. I often found myself looking for them, expecting them, and even counting how many she could crowd into a sentence. Some pages have more than a dozen, and many sentences have three. Most use the word "like," but "as if" gets in there, too. This novel might be a candidate for the Guinness Book of Records for having the most similes.
In conclusion, if I could offer one more piece of advice to writers who write about swords. They do not "shing" when coming out of a scabbard or when being returned to one. Scabbards were mostly leather, and only a very slight sliding sound is heard when the sword comes in or out. This is a fact, though sorely challenged by Hollywood movies. Ever heard of a metal scabbard? Very, very rare, and only for show. Do you know what that would do to your sword edge? Besides, do you really want your enemy to hear you draw your weapon, or return it? As a swordsman myself I can think of too many situations where it would be a great advantage (night time, perhaps) to silently draw your sword. So, on P. 227 when Excalibur is "thrust down into the scabbard with a great ringing sound..." I wonder how thorough the author's knowledge of medieval times really was.
* 1/2 stars. Reviewed August 30th/14
I tried very hard to like this novel. The Adult Fantasy series is very stingy with Arthurian material (Lin Carter explains why in the essay to this volume). I was ready for an Arthurian tale, one I had never read nor heard of before collecting the entire series (note: this book I purchased is marked as once being in the library of Alan R. Losoff--are you out there, Alan?). Miss Laubenthal certainly knows her Arthurian mythos. In fact, if one is not steeped in it, reading this novel might be somewhat cumbersome. I know a heck of a lot about it myself, and I still felt left behind many times. One of the serious problems of this book is the constant and incessant name-dropping that occurs from the legends. When you read this book you should have a handy and thorough reference guide to Arthurian legend. A glossary or family tree would also have been handy.
The author tells a very beguiling tale. The sword Excalibur, along with the Holy Grail, have made it through the centuries and reside in Mobile, Alabama. Yes, you read that right. Mobile, Alabama. In the 1970s. And there are good reasons why this might have happened, all explained rather well. As I said, it is a beguiling tale. I did enjoy the earlier parts of the book, where Rhodri the archeologist and Linette first meet and begin to dig for the sword. There is considerable groundwork laid here, and the possibilities seem endless. However, the telling of the tale quickly goes off the rails. Miss Laubenthal, who only ever wrote one fantasy book, simply cannot tell a tale very well.
I could list many examples of why I think so. In general, I enjoyed reading the first few chapters. However, by the middle of the book it was a chore to keep reading. The story jumps around between no less than seven different characters, seen from their perspective, and it all becomes a bit too much. The fantasy and magic seem to come out of nowhere. From the here and now the book suddenly jumps into a land of unicorns, and more terror is thrown at the main characters than one book should ever throw. I always find it annoying in a story when the main characters (alias good guys) have to endure every conceivable kind of torture and hardship, despite having very limited constitutions, and the bad guys (in this case, girls) have more strength and power and capability than a plethora of fierce thunderstorms. Somehow the heroes endure, and somehow the bad guys lose.
What else did I find troubling? The author's sentences (and paragraphs and even chapters) can run on and on and on. One example:
"She felt the grief of Mor, the endless hate and despair; nothing was worth prizing in all creation, and nothing worth doing but spoiling the work of the Lord of Time who was blamed for that grief, no pleasure but a bitter joy in making other's too in tasting of the same cup--the Lord of Time too through them, that he too might know it." (p. 193)
That is one clumsy sentence, and there are many, many more. I mentioned unicorns a moment ago, but I did not mention moonlight. The book opens during a very rainy time, and contains one other rainy day as well. Apparently it is never cloudy at night in Mobile. The words "moon" and "moonlight," often combined with "pale" are used uncountable times in the novel, so much so that sometimes in one (long) paragraph it exceeds ten times! Enough with the moon!! We get it--it's always clear in Mobile at night and it's always a full moon!
I have yet to mention the thing I found most annoying: the use of simile. In any good story simile has its place. And Miss Laubenthal is quite good at them, and I could quote many lovely ones I wish I had written. The problem, however, is similar to the moonlight one. There are so many similies that they become a distraction. I often found myself looking for them, expecting them, and even counting how many she could crowd into a sentence. Some pages have more than a dozen, and many sentences have three. Most use the word "like," but "as if" gets in there, too. This novel might be a candidate for the Guinness Book of Records for having the most similes.
In conclusion, if I could offer one more piece of advice to writers who write about swords. They do not "shing" when coming out of a scabbard or when being returned to one. Scabbards were mostly leather, and only a very slight sliding sound is heard when the sword comes in or out. This is a fact, though sorely challenged by Hollywood movies. Ever heard of a metal scabbard? Very, very rare, and only for show. Do you know what that would do to your sword edge? Besides, do you really want your enemy to hear you draw your weapon, or return it? As a swordsman myself I can think of too many situations where it would be a great advantage (night time, perhaps) to silently draw your sword. So, on P. 227 when Excalibur is "thrust down into the scabbard with a great ringing sound..." I wonder how thorough the author's knowledge of medieval times really was.
* 1/2 stars. Reviewed August 30th/14
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