First published in 1926 and by many considered a foundational albeit obtuse novel in the fantasy/high fantasy genre, and part of a loose series of 4 (really 3.5) novels, the Worm Ouroboros is *not* a "forgotten" novel--but it is perhaps not quite appreciated (or read) by many people, and it's a shame; because, despite its somewhat wonky opening, which is quite unrelated with the rest of the story, its a lot of fun.
Eddison's ornate and archaic language--which would be considered a "turn-off" by some--is what makes the novel enjoyable, and what really sets it apart from the everything else in the genre. Despite what you may think when you start reading, it is easy to understand and get used to; and in Eddison's adept hands it makes every scene and description shine, gives remarkable depth to the characters and their dialogue, and weight to their actions that, were this novel to be written by anyone else, it would not have worked.
Read this example; it is a description of the fortress of Carcë in Witchland, the kingdom threatening Demonland, kingdom of the novel's heroes:
On the southern face of the bluff, monstrous as a mountain in those low sedge-lands, hung square and black the fortress of Carcë. It was built of black marble, rough-hewn and unpolished, the outworks enclosing many acres. An inner wall with a tower at each corner formed the main stronghold, in the south-west corner of which was the palace, overhanging the river. And on the south-west corner of the palace, towering sheer from the water's edge seventy cubits and more to the battlements, stood the keep, a round tower lined with iron, bearing on the corbel table beneath its parapet in varying form and untold repetition the sculptured figure of the crab of Witchland. The outer ward of the fortress was dark with cypress trees: black flames burning changelessly to heaven from a billowy sea of gloom. East of the keep was the water-gate, and beside it a bridge and bridge-house across the river, strongly fortified with turrets and machicolations and commanded from on high by the battlements of the keep. Dismal and fearsome to view was this strong place of Carcë, most like to the embodied soul of dreadful night brooding on the waters of that sluggish river: by day a shadow in broad sunshine, the likeness of pitiless violence sitting in the place of power, darkening the desolation of the mournful fen; by night, a blackness more black than night herself.
It's pretty awesome.
Not to say that the novel is a series of cool fantasy descriptions; but there are plenty and they're all great.
And here is an example of the dialogue (which throughout the novel is lively and amusing); this one from the first chapter--the lords of Demonland and heroes of the novel are having a feast; an ambassador from Witchland arrives, to demand their fealty:
"Why, what a beastly fellow is this?" said Lord Goldry in his brother's ear. "His hairy hands reach down to his knees. A shuffleth in his walk like a hobbled jackass."
"I like not the dirty face of the Ambassador," said Lord Zigg. "His nose sitteth flat on the face of him as it were a dab of clay, and I can see pat up his nostrils a summer day's journey into his head. If's upper lip bespeak him not a rare spouter of rank fustian, perdition catch me. Were it a finger's breadth longer, a might tuck it into his collar to keep his chin warm of a winter's night."
"I like not the smell of the Ambassador," said Lord Brandoch Daha. And he called for censers and sprinklers of lavender and rose water to purify the chamber, and let open the crystal windows that the breezes of heaven might enter and make all sweet.
So the Ambassador walked up the shining floor and stood before the lords of Demonland that sat upon the high seats between the golden hippogriffs. He was robed in a long mantle of scarlet lined with ermine, with crabs, woodlice, and centipedes worked thereon in golden thread. His head was covered with a black velvet cap with a peacock's feather fastened with a brooch of silver. Supported by his trainbearers and attendants, and leaning on his golden staff, he with raucous accent delivered his mission:
"Juss, Goldry, and Spitfire, and ye other Demons, I come before you as the Ambassador of Gorice XI., most glorious King of Witchland, Lord and great Duke of Buteny and Estremerine, Commander of Shulan, Thramnë, Mingos, and Permio, and High Warden of the Esamocian Marches, Great Duke of Trace, King Paramount of Beshtria and Nevria and Prince of Ar, Great Lord over the country of Ojedia, Maltraëny, and of Baltary and Toribia, and Lord of many other countries, most glorious and most great, whose power and glory is over all the world and whose name shall endure for all generations. And first I bid you be bound by that reverence for my sacred office of envoy from the King, which is accorded by all people and potentates, save such as be utterly barbarous, to ambassadors and envoys."
"Speak and fear not," answered Juss. "Thou hast mine
oath. And that hath never been forsworn, to Witch or other barbarian."
The Ambassador shot out his lips in an O, and threatened with his head; then grinned, laying bare his sharp and misshapen teeth, and proceeded:
"Thus saith King Gorice, great and glorious, and he chargeth me to deliver it to you, neither adding any word nor taking away: 'I have it in mind that no ceremony of homage or fealty hath been performed before me by the dwellers in my province of Demonland---------'"
As the rustling of dry leaves strewn in a flagged court when a sudden wind striketh them, there went a stir among the guests.
It is even better in context, preceded by a lavish description of the lords of Demonland presented as virtuous and perfect; an example of the depth the novel possesses.
If you haven't read it give it a try; You can find it for free on the sacred texts website, or get a second-hand copy easily--it's worth the money.
The photo of the cover is from the same edition I have (Pan/Ballantine)--art by Barbara Remington.
No comments:
Post a Comment