For many readers, epic fantasy is
fantasy. Despite the ever increasing
variety within the genre, Tolkien, Martin, Brooks, Eddings, Howard, etc., etc.
are what the world of fantasy literature is. It’s
therefore interesting that most have probably not heard of E.R. Eddison’s The Worm Ouroboros--a book which identifies the
sub-genre like no other. Simply put, it
defines the term ‘epic’. A
seminal influence on every work of fantasy bearing the adjective since, up to
and including The Lord of the Rings,
it is only due to language and the fickle thing that is time that the book is not more well-known today. Written in a style that is sure to put off
many, Eddison’s debut novel is as grandiose in presentation as it is in
content.
A (semi) frame story, The Worm Ouroboros opens with the man
Lessingham relaxing at his manor with the wife.
Whisked away to the Middle Kingdom that night by bird, he finds himself
in the castle of Demonland the next morning.
Jewels and precious stones encrusting every available surface,
Lessingham meets the castle’s lords—their noble, imposing statures as glorious
as their halls. But when an ugly dwarf
from the rival kingdom of Witchland arrives to demand that Demonland bow in
obeisance, Lessingham fades and the focus switches to the lords: the noble
Juss, the mighty Goldry Bluszco, and the world’s greatest warrior, Brandoch
Daha. The dwarf’s message an
unacceptable affront to Demonland’s dignity, the group holds conference to
decide in what manner to respond to King Gorice’s demands. Settling on a duel in three weeks’ time, the
fate of the Middle Kingdom hangs in the balance. Events in the aftermath not as either side
would have it, the bruised egos, cycles of vengeance, treachery, quests, and
victories and defeats which follow are as epic as fantasy gets.
Not a step more can be taken without
describing the style of The Worm
Ouroboros. The single most prominent
feature of the novel (from a contemporary perspective), the language used is
wholly archaic—every word, sentence, and thought expressed in Tudor/Jacobean
English. A veneer alien to modern usage
of English, what would be expressed by grimdark writers today as “I’ll kick your ass, fuck face!” is
rendered in the novel as “Rebellious
hound, it is fit that I make demonstration unto thee… that I am thy king and
lord, not by virtue only of this my crown of Witchland, which I thus put by for
an hour, but even by the power of my body over thine, and by my might and
man. Be satisfied that I will not have
done with thee until I have taken away thy life, and sent thy soul squealing
bodiless into the unknown, and thy skull, and thy marrow-bones, will I have
await at Carce, to my palace, to be a token unto all the world, that I have
been the bane of an hundredth great champion by my wrestling…” The entire story overlain in a filigree of opulent
verbosity, no banister, mountain range, posture, or sword pommel goes
unnoticed. Thus, do not think of
picking up The Worm Ouroboros unless
you are prepared to immerse yourself in 500 pages of a minutely detailed place
and character written in dated English. Not
a hack job, Eddison’s effort is wholly authentic and worthwhile for anyone
interested in middle English. (I
mention this because, much of the epic fantasy on the market today attempts to
use “traditional” English as a means of adding epic weight to its story, and
most often fails. See
Michael Sullivan’s books for an unpracticed example.)
Regardless of the reader’s opinion of
such language, it does have a significant effect: the story is rendered fully
mythic in tone. Everything larger than
life, the simplest of conversations, the treks across craggy mountain ranges,
and the duels of sword and spear take on proportions that are as purely epic as
epic can be. (The poetry and song
Eddison includes only heighten the effect.)
Eddison’s work one fully realized, it can be appreciated as much for the
mythic storyline, if not for language.
The plot a cross of Arthurian legend and
Greek myth, sword and sorcery hold as much place as fantastical beasts and
magnanimous quests in The Worm Ouroboros. Hippogriffs, King Gorice’s conjurations, the
mighty clashes of armies, the mystical strength of nature, the inscrutability
of aristocracy, egos and power, the hero, loyalty defied by love, and the
irredoubtable stanchions of honor, virtue, and bravery. Eddison also fully personalizing the
villains, readers will find them something more like a darker shade of gray
rather than the black on black most epic fantasy evil exhibits.
Before closing the review, it would be
good to expand upon the mythic proportions of the novel. J.R.R. Tolkien turning away from The Worm Ouroboros’s thematic outlay,
Michael Moorcock in turn embracing it, the tragedy of the novel’s conclusion,
as indirect as it is, clings tighter to Mircea Eliade’s ideas regarding the
eternal return than any modern perspective—Christian or otherwise—regarding
time. Eschewing the linear for the
cyclical, the story truly hearkens back to the ages of old, making it myth for
modern times.
In the end, The Worm Ouroboros will not be a novel for every fan of epic
fantasy despite that the most genre works today will hold the overwhelming
majority in common. The archaic language
placing it in a meticulously crafted niche, those who enjoy older iterations of
English may find the time well spent, while others will quickly nauseate at the
purple blustering and fluff. With
characters “binding themselves to mighty oaths” and imaginary beasts plying the
seas and skies, the book is imbued with myth, something which the epic scope of
story only emphasizes. The closest modern equivalent I have read is Poul
Anderson’s The Broken Sword and
Moorcock’s Elric books. Certainly Tolkien borrowed many things from
Eddison, including the name Middle Earth, but the authors have entirely different
aims.
I read The Worm Ouroboros in my late teens, and remember it being a slog, but that I enjoyed it. There were many things about it that were quite weird and stuck in my mind, like how the countries/people have names like Demons and Witches, but are not actually what we think of as Demons and Witches. And isn't some race of people actually exterminated in the opening chapters, with the author's approval? Also the ending, which perhaps should have been obvious from the title, was a surprise, and I kept thinking about it for days, not sure if I approved of the ending from a literary point of view, and not sure if the characters' final decision was one I could identify with.
ReplyDeleteI had the 1967 Ballantine (presumably my brother back home a thousand miles away has it now), and the cover illustration and the interior illustrations were another source of fascination. There was a period during which I would flip through the book to find fun names for my characters in computer games like "Bard's Tale."
From a thematic point of view, the ending provides the "slog" it's value. Without it, the book is blase fantasy. That being said, Eddison does not handle the end transition smoothly. It works theoretically, but does not fit neatly into the storyline, in fact feeling a little forced.
DeleteBeyond offering a high quality selection of names to use online, I'd be curious which games The Worm Ouroboros had a direct influence on...
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ReplyDeleteI’ve read this book three times over about forty years and find it awesome every time. It took fifty pages to get into rhythm of the language the first time, and was hard to put down after that. Attempts to make maps have failed, to find equally fascinating books also not successful. I’m torn between wanting someone to turn it into a movie or series and hoping they don’t. ( Imagine a Goldry Busczo action figure free with a Big Mac ….) One of my top three books of all time along with East of Eden ang Basin and Range!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment. I don't think a film adaptation would be good. The language, as dense and formal as it is, lends the narrative a sense of grandiosity that, without it, would likely not hold up well on the screen. Couple that with the fact the formal language would be limited to dialogue, a straight up adaptation seems a recipe for disaster. But the magic and imaginative elements would be great to see rendered in cgi.
DeleteEast of Eden I know well - one of the books fighting for the top of my personal Steinbeck pyramid. Tortilla Flat holds an edge, with To a God Unknown also fighting for a place.
What is Basin and Range?
Basin and Range is by John McPhee, a writer I like to think of like a modern day Twain but with a historical twist instead of a humorous one. Kind of a journalistic nonfiction style with some Stephen Gould and Loren Eisley thrown in, an acquired taste probably.
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