Brought to my attention by this note on the cover : "Introduction by Neil Gaiman." I've been on a good roll where Gaiman is concerned with Neverwhere and The Sandman read this year, so his glowing praise for Lord Dunsany made me put this classic fantasy forward in my queue: "His words sing, like those of a poet who got drunk on the prose of the King James Bible, and who has still not yet become sober." The style is the first thing that struck me about the novel, archaic yet elegant, the language of royal courts and ancient sagas, a promise that what follows is more than a simple adventure with elves, dwarves and knights riding on white chargers, aiming instead at a mythical structure that transcends time and place restrictions in order to address the fundamental issues of our identity. Who we are and what we can become is defined by the dreams we chase, and what we bring to the quest is a sensibility, an open mind ready to be filled with the wonders that surround us. With the exception of the King of Elfland and of Ziroonderel the Witch (who it can be argued have already reached illumination), all the characters in the book have a hole in the soul that they try to fill in. Magic is used in the book as the embodiment of these unfulfilled wishes, as the catchword for all that is mysterious, unknown, wild and unpredictable in life. Farmers who live close to the border to Elfland turn their backs on the magic realm lest they fall under its spell: For there was a beauty in it such as is not in all our fields; and it is told those farmers in youth how, if they gaze upon those wandering lights, there will remain no joy for them in the goodly fields, the fine, brown furrows or the waves of wheat, or in any things of ours; but their hearts will be far from here with elfin things, yearning always for the unknown mountains and for folks not blessed by the Freer. The first Dreamchasers to enter the stage are the members of the Parliament of Erl, villagers who petition their king for a 'little' magic in their lives, something to relieve the dreariness of everyday life and hopefully something that will make their county famous the world over and give them a sense of civic pride. They want a life less ordinary, but are they prepared to pay the price of inviting magic into their lives?Next quester is Alveric, the prince sent by his father the King to bring back magic from Elfland. His journey starts traditionally enough, fairytale style, with the forging of a magic sword, the traverse of a dangerous forest, defeat of the Elf guards and finally rescuing the princess locked in the tower. His plot line really takes off in the later part of the novel, as he loses the girl when he fails to understand her magical / alien nature and tries to force her to conform to the rules of civilized Earth, as they are laid down in the Freer books. His is the love story angle covered in the book, a cautionary tale about taking your wife for granted and about lack of empathy. Alveric gets expelled from the Garden of Eden ( "He awoke in the birdless dawn very cold, hearing old voices crying faintly far off, as they slowly drifted away, like dreams going back to dreamland." ) and then spends long years wandering in the desolation of the lands from which magic has fled. Reinforcing the central theme of the novel, Alveric gathers around him a fellowship of kindred spirits, dreamchasers one and all : a 'moontouched' youth who hears voices in the night, an autistic shepherd who may be soft in the head or may be the most level headed of the whole bunch, a spurned lover, a poet, a bored villager looking for adventure, and so on. What they search for becomes less important than the search itself, their refusal to accept a life without surprises or mystery.Lirazel is the Elfland princess that hears the call of the unknown from the other direction: she wants to explore the wonders of Earth after being confined all her life in her father's palace, in a land that is eternal but that in its timelessness it is also stagnant. She wants to discover the vistas, the sounds, the smells, the plants, the animals and the people that are as strange and as fascinating for her as the miracles of Elfland appear to the eyes of Alveric. I believe this is my favorite aspect of the novel - the way Dunsany paints the 'fields we know' as seen with alien eyes, the way he sings the praise of sunsets and golden leaves flying with the autumn winds, the song of a trush or the waving fields of grain. Elfland and Earth are the two sides of the same coin and magic is right here by our side, waiting only for us to open our eyes and our hearts to its glory.The wonders of Earth exert an even stronger pull on the troll Lurulu. More alien than even Lirazel, the troll is a messenger of chaos, a disrupting force that thrives on mischievous pranks and finds joy in breaking routine and custom. Lord Dunsany's trolls are unlike any other trolls I've come across in my fantasy forays. Instead of ugly, heavy limbed, mean and brutal minions of the Lord of Darkness, they are gay and sprightly, quick to run and jump and laugh at the smallest provocation: For among the trolls none goes in higher repute than one that is able to astound the others, or even to show them any whimsical thing, or to trick or perplex them humorously. Lurulu had Earth to show, whose ways are considered, amongst those able to judge, to be fully as quaint and whimsical as the curious observer could wish. Lurulu Watches the Restlessness of Earth where the troll witnesses a day in the village of Erl while hidden in a pigeon loft is the one chapter in the book that I would like to quote in full, where Dunsany formal prose style soars to unprecedented heights, singing the quiet songs of country life, the magic that can be found in our own backyard: Perpetual movement and perpetual change! He contrasted it, in wonder, with the deep calm of his home, where the moment moved more slowly than the shadows of houses here, and did not pass until all the content with which a moment is stored had been drawn from it by every creature in Elfland. [...] To the pigeons on the roof that would not come home he listened long, not trying to interpret what they were saying, yet satisfied with the case as the pigeons put it; feeling that they told the story of life, and that all was well. And he felt as he listened to the low talk of the pigeons that Earth must have been going on for a long time. This chapter, more than any others justify a comment I have seen recently, that the best way to read Lord Dunsany is not inside, hemmed in by four walls and a ceiling, but outside, in a forest glade or by a quiet river, far from the concrete jungle of modern life.Since I'm counting the dreamchasers in the book, I couldn't leave out Orion the hunter who is the answer to the Parliament of Erl request for a magical ruler, the heir to both worlds - Earth and Elfland. Named after the brightest star of the firmament, left to find his own way in life by his absent parents, Orion will turn for wisdom and comfort to the temple of green : "And when the uplands opened their distances to his eyes he felt that he was now upon no mere walk, but a journey. And then he saw the solemn gloom of the wintry woods far off, and that filled him at once with a delighted awe. To their darkness, their mystery and their shelter Oth brought him." Inspired by the stories told by the realm's gamekeepers and wardens, Orion learns the language of trees and birds and lives only for the thrill of the hunt, the freedom of the chase, the pride of the well aimed arrow and the power of death over the denizens of the foerst. With his pack of hounds running by his side, Orion questing after the most elusive trophy of all : the unicorns who sometimes cross over from Elfland to Earth, symbols themselves of the elusive, ephemeral wonder we are all seeking from life. Orion chapters may prove to a modern reader the hardest to reconcile with the general theme of wonder and whimsy that drives Lord Dunsany narrative, as they are quite graphic and insensitive to the plight of the hunted and in general come down in favour of the hunter.In the context of the period when the book was written, and given the known passion of the author for the sport, their importance to the story becomes less surprising or anachronic. Even today, I'm not sure a character like Lord Dunsany would side with the tree-huggers or the fox hunting protesters. Blood sports were an essential part of his heritage and upbringing.My review so far has been mostly about the characters and their urges. I've been vague about the plot not only in order to avoid spoilers, but because I believe the novel is not action driven. The jumps in point of view and in the timeline concur in the overall feeling that the book is more an extended metaphor on the search for wonder, for life to be something more than the day to day domestic chores or the strictures of a 9 to 5 job, for something unexpected and extraordinary to bring a sparkle and shine to reality. I don't think the author set out deliberately to confront the naturalists like Zola or the strict Victorian moralists like Thomas Hardy, but here with his Elfland tales he presents himself as a forerunner of the magical realism currents and of the current increased interest in the supernatural and the fanciful. The two sides of the debate are set down by the Freer and the witch. I'll close my remarks with their two speeches and let the next readers to decide where they stand in relation to magic: The Freer : "And curst be trolls, elves, goblins and fairies upon Earth, and hypogriffs and Pegasus in the air, and all the tribes of the mer-folk under the sea. Our holy rites forbid them. And curst be all doubts, all singular dreams, all fancies. And from magic may all true folk be turned away. Amen." Ziroonderel : "Overmuch? she said. "Overmuch magic! As though magic were not the spice and essence of life, its ornament and its splendor. By my broom, I give you no spell against magic.[...] I would sooner give you a spell against water, that all the world should thirst, than give you a spell against the song of streams that evening hears faintly over the ridge of a hill, too dim for wakeful ears, a song threading through dreams, whereby we learn of old wars and lost loves of the Spirits of rivers. I would sooner give you a spell against bread, that all the world should starve, than give you a spell against the magic of wheat that haunts the golden hollows in moonlight in July, through which in the warm short nights wander how many of whom man knows nothing. I would make you spells against comfort and clothing, food, shelter and warmth, aye and will do it, sooner than tear from these poor fields of Earth that magic that is to them an ample cloak against the chill of Space, and a gay rayment against the sneers of nothingness. How does the book end, you ask? Expect the unexpected, and enjoy a moment of peace after one of the wildest flight of fancy ever put to paper: "And Niv and Zend had ease at last from their wild fancies, for their wild thoughts sank to rest in the calm of Elfland and slept as hawks sleep in their trees when evening has lulled the world." ----After finishing the review:I realized I said nothing about the place Lord Dunsany occupies in the speculative fiction genre. New writers don't jump out fully formed and ready to run like Athena from the cracked head of Zeus. They drink form the fountain of dreams of those who came before and feed the imagination of those who come after. In his own words : "Bricks without straw are more easily made than imagination without memories." Lord Dunsany inherited more than a huge estate in Ireland from his ancestors - he had one of the best libraries in the country and mentioned as his sources the legends of ancient Greece, the brothers Grimm, Perrault and Andersen, Edgar Alan Poe and King James Bible. Thelist of writers who acknowledge his influence and pay him homage is like a roll call of the Fantasy Hall of Fame : Jack Vance, H P Lovecraft, J R R Tolkien, Gene Wolfe, Robert E Howard, Clark Ashton Smith, Neil Gaiman, Benicio del Toro, Arthur C Clarke, Michael Moorcock, Ursula K le Guin, Peter S Beagle, and many more. Without him our imaginary landscapes would be a lot poorer, and that's reason enough for me to give him the full honours of a five star rating.
a tale out of time: an old myth reinvented; a new myth born. a wayward bride, a forlorn husband, their son - a pitiless hunter. a defiant old woman; a melancholy old man. trolls delight in delight; unicorns are for slaughter. question: what is Time in Elfland? answer: a fantasy! twelve men want magic. madmen shall take captive a king. borders shall be crossed and boundaries may be as fleeting as dreams. be wary of what you wish for! love shall conquer all and death shall be no more.prose like poetry, like music. the novel: a silvery lake stretching to shores unknown. i gazed at this lake by day and its surface shone with sunlight: the world and all its colors flamed bright and fierce. i took a lonely boat ride by night and its surface glistened with moonlight, reflecting the beyond... i stared into those starry depths and saw the infinite: an entrancing sight!☼ ☾ ☀ ☼ ☾ ☀message 5: by mark i read the first 50 pages last night. love it so far. especially enjoyed all the animals' (and the child's) reactions to the troll.i thought i had read this novel many years ago, but none of it feels familiar. so maybe not.some really lovely writing overall. message 6: by markread another 50 pages in the park today. a perfect place to read this novel.still impressed by the charm of Dunsany's flowing prose. and the subtlety, the pointed comments here and there. like the bit around the king taking the 'witless lad' from a mother who knows that her son will accomplish more staying at home then going on some foolish quest with a foolish king. but kings will take what they want.also really enjoyed the equally subtle, equally barbed depiction of the depressing, unnecessary finiteness of organized religion that will automatically call 'heathen' any activity that is directed towards nature and the cosmos rather than towards rituals and memorization. message 7: by marki fear i may be propping up this thread as if it were my own personal journal!anyway, two bits of Dunsany's commentary that i thought were particularly well-done: "He was an incongruous figure with his stave and his sack and his sword; but he followed one idea, one inspiration, one hope; and so shared something of the strangeness that all men have who do this.""And now the four that were left were all of one mind, and under the wet coarse cloth that they hung on poles there was deep content in the evenings. For Alveric clung to his hope with all the strength of his race, that had once won Erl in old battles and held it for centuries long, and in the vacant minds of Niv and Zend this idea grew strong and big, like some rare flower that a gardener may plant by chance in a wild untended place. And Thyl sung of the hope; and all his wild fancies that roamed after song decked Alveric's quest with more and more of glamour. So all were of one mind. And greater quests whether mad or sane have prospered when this was so, and greater quests have failed when it was otherwise."message 8: by mark also, Orion hunts and kills a unicorn. disgusting! i am no longer on your team, Orion.although that was a rather amazing chapter. the final lines were startling. message 12: by mark more unicorn hunting, argh! this is such a turn-off to me. i'm not even automatically against hunting, as long as the meat is used. but unicorns are basically magic horses - and who hunts horses for chrissakes.still, the novel remains a pleasure. loved the chapter with Orion almost stepping into Elfland, but getting pulled back by his faithful hounds.loved the part with the Freer (Friar? not familiar with the word "Freer") condemning magic and then while walking home, utters a spell against magic. ha! delicious bit of irony. Dunsany's stance on this fake binary set up by the Freer is clear.and man that whole chapter on Lurulu the troll acquainting himself with earthly ways, and earthly time, was just marvelous. it was wonderful to see how Dunsany describes the passing of earthly time in such a way that it felt as strange and magical as elfland itself. message 13: by markfinished it tonight. wonderful! the chapter with the Elfland King trying to soothe his daughter had some of the most beautiful writing i've ever read. the ending, the slowly moving line as Elfland takes over Erl... entrancing. the whole novel is magically written. prose like poetry, like music.☼ ☾ ☀for two far superior reviews of this splendid classic, read the ones by Mark and Keely:http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Do You like book The King Of Elfland's Daughter (1999)?
This was a pleasure. I read in the evenings and for this novel, I always looked forward to returning daily to the poetic prose and magical landscape of Elfland. The writer, you can tell, is mature and steady in his craft, beautiful minded, and simply perfect. His voice is calming and rich. Something interesting--I loved Infinite Jest too, but that novel is 180 degrees different from The King of Elfland's Daughter. Foster's voice, while clever and insightful, felt unstable, wobbly, and exploring the world like a bright child might, grabbing hold of shiny objects and giving sometimes rather eloquent descriptions of human frailty. Lord Dunsany, on the other hand, is full, mature, ripe and steady. His messages and observations are subtle, deep, and time flows like a ancient running stream. I loved both, but this one, I read with a hungry heart.
—Chance Maree
I had the odd good fortune at the time to not be able to purchase a copy of it. So, I went off to the local library, which had the book secreted away in it's archive, where it might have been residing for decades.Between the prose, the soothing yellow color of the paper contained in the hardback shell, the smell, the turning of the page like those who read this very same volume before me did--it was a treasure in both process and content. I love my Kindle, but it simply can't give me that. Nor, for that matter, could a modern paperback. Some tales need to be read in ancient tomes, and this certainly was one of them.The story was simple, and I can even see where it seemed over long in parts; although the climax and ending more than made up for the lulls in action. But to read it for the plot is nearly missing the point: Dunsany was a master of atmosphere. His prose and descriptions are hypnotic, meant to send the reader to a world that ought to be. A dream state, where you are in a place unfamiliar and peculiar; yet somehow the oddities seem natural, if not commonplace.Is it his best work? I think he works best in short stories: A Tale of London is absolutely sublime, a fantasy within a fantasy that subtly turned the tables on his English readership. But The King of Elfland's Daughter is a seminal work, a true bridge between fairy tales and modern fantasy fiction that stands on its own merits and raised the standard for all that came after it.
—John Nestor
Lord Dunsany's "The King of Elfland's Daughter" is a classic fantasy novel that I'd been hearing of and reading good things about for years. Friends had recommended it, the book appears in Cawthorn and Moorcock's overview volume "Fantasy: The 100 Best Books," and one of my favorite authors of all time, H.P. Lovecraft, gushes about its author in his scholarly piece entitled "Supernatural Horror in Literature." In that piece, H.P. famously writes that Dunsany is "unexcelled in the sorcery of crystalline singing prose, and supreme in the creation of a gorgeous and languorous world or iridescently exotic vision... Lord Dunsany stands dedicated to a strange world of fantastic beauty..." Anyway, now that I have finally read what is generally considered Dunsany's finest novel, I can see what all the gush is about. This is indeed a magical piece of writing, one that wraps a very special mood around the reader. In essence a fairy tale for adults, the story itself, although it is charming, does not strike me as being the main attraction; rather, it is Dunsany's beautifully written prose, in places almost like poetry, that forms dreamlike images and that really transports the reader out of humdrum reality. First printed in May 1924, the novel presents us with a series of parallel story lines. We follow Alveric, prince of the Earthly valley of Erl, in his quest for his lost wife, Lirazel, the eponymous daughter of the King of Elfland, after she returns to her fantasy realm. We learn of young Orion, their son, and see him grow up to become a great hunter and slayer of unicorns. We witness the tribulations of the members of the Parliament of Erl, which desperately wants to bring some kind of magic to their mundane valley, and follow the adventures of Lurulu, a troll from Elfland, who has wandered to Earth and discovers the wonders of fleeting time, talking pigeons and moving shadows. And we are there in Elfland itself, as its king attempts many magical acts to keep his daughter happy. But, as H.P. went on to say in his piece, "no amount of mere description can convey more than a fraction of Lord Dunsany's pervasive charm." Just check out this passage, for example, in which Dunsany describes the borderland of light that separates Elfland from Earth: "It was made of the rarest lights that wander in air, and the fairest flashes of sunlight that astonish our fields through storm, and the mists of little streams, and the glow of flowers in moonlight, and all the ends of our rainbows with all their beauty and magic, and scraps of the gloaming of evenings long treasured in aged minds." Whew...see what I mean about prose poetry? The entire book is like that, and has a cumulative effect of something truly fantastical. This is not a book to tear through, but rather one to read leisurely, so as to let Dunsany's beautiful imagery wash through your mind and take you somewhere else. While at once using traditional fantasy elements such as magic, trolls, goblins and unicorns, the story also confounds expectations time and again. (For example, when was the last time you read a fantasy story in which the usually beloved and revered unicorn is hunted for sport and casually despised by all for being so haughty and aloof?) So all told, we have an exquisitely written story, featuring multiple story lines and unexpected plot twists, that truly does cast a magical spell. Edward John Moreton Drax Plunkett, the 18th Baron of Dunsany, born in 1878 in County Meath, Ireland, supposedly wrote over 60 novels, as well as plays, essays, poetry and an autobiography. Based on "The King of Elfland's Daughter," and the remarkable qualities evinced therein, I'm certainly going to want to check out more...
—Sandy
