When
reading China Mieville’s “50
Sci-Fi & Fantasy Works Every Socialist Should Read,” there were several
titles that struck me. I can easily see
the context for Bulgakov’s masterpiece The Master and Margarita, Zamyatin’s We,
Robinson’s Mars trilogy, and Rand’s Atlas Shrugged (as tongue and cheek as
that selection is), but other choices less so, including Pullman’s His Dark Materials…, Peake’s Gormenghast novels, and, perhaps most
interestingly, Michael Moorcock’s Hawkmoon
cycle (collected in the omnibus edition The
History of the Runestaff). Mieville
citing Moorcock’s satirical stabs at British imperialism as the reason,
apparently the cycle has at least one layer operating beneath its shiny epic
fantasy facade.
Having
now read the Runestaff novels, I
think it’s fair to say there is only one layer operating beneath—and it’s just
an inch below the surface.
The History of Runestaff is comprised of
four individual volumes: The Jewel in the Skull (1967), The Mad God's Amulet (1968), The Sword of the
Dawn (1968), and The Runestaff
(1969). A mix of steampunk, sword and
sorcery, and epic fantasy, the four volumes are connected linearly in telling
the story of Dorian Hawkmoon as he fights the empire of Granbretan to prevent
its conquest of Europe.
The
players introduced in the opening book The
Jewel in the Skull, Moorcock indirectly describes a dying Earth wherein
some things have reverted; the armies, the forms of government, and the overall
state of technology have an almost Medieval feel. ‘Almost’ the operative word, there are
likewise bits of technology and numinous objects that may or may not be
magical/advanced technology left over from more “civilized days.” The narrator’s voice 100% epic, despite the ornithopters
and fire lances, the series nevertheless retains an overall Arthurian feel.
Bad
guys and good guys appearing and re-appearing on the stage amidst huge battles
and quests for magical objects, the mode is classic epic fantasy. At times painfully simple and obvious (the
final volume The Runestaff is almost
perfunctory, not the twisting, surprising end volume one would hope for), and
at others moves along lines more original, the History of the Runestaff is unable to commit itself. Moorcock clearly and openly stating in his
intro that there is no symbolism or allegory tucked away in Granbretan’s quest
for domination, nor the other thinly veiled real-world references to countries
and places. Yet one would not be so
quick to believe it’s all just “entertainments”—Moorcock’s word. Fluttering beneath the “olde” English is an
arch, self-aware tone that begs to be compared.
The billows of hot, epic-fantasy air, however, cannot help but float.
For
this, Moorcock’s Elric stories are a
relative success compared to Hawmoon. All basically the same between the two
(tragic hero, Pyrric victories, sword fights, sorcery, fantastical creatures,
warring lands, etc.), it is essentially for one reason the two differ: setting. And it makes a difference. Gene Wolfe rendering his dying Earth of The Book of the New Sun so different as
to be unrecognizable, in The History of
the Runestaff Moorcock simply Medievalizes futuristic Earth to create a
setting different in the details but readily recognizable in form and name,
which automatically creates releationships in the reader’s mind as they
read. Clashing with the epic narrative
voice, the familiarity of the places Hawkmoon’s adventures and battles take him
don’t quite fit the mythic voice used to describe said adventures. Great Britain has become Granbretan (capital
Londra), Paris Parye, Turkey Turkia, and so on.
The Beatles are found in Jhone, Jhorg, Phowl, and Runga, Brian Aldiss in
Bjrin Adass, and J.G. Ballard in Jeagea Blad.
The in-jokes and double-entendres may be fun for Mieville or other
readers to puzzle out, but they diminish the integrity of the work, making that
such antics are indeed only “entertainments,” the overall effect far from
mythic.
In
the end, The History of Runestaff is
mediocre high fantasy/science and sorcery that contains many of the themes
common to Moorcock’s work, just perhaps not in the most effective combination
or presentation. The setting and peanut
gallery commentary jarring the mode and voice out of position, all else is
classic epic fantasy; Dorian Hawkmoon’s adventures to reclaim the runestaff and
prevent Granbretan from taking over Europe oscillate between camp and engaging,
depending on the mood. People who read
only epic fantasy should be interested, all else will find only that one layer
of sarcasm Mieville too found.
Hi
ReplyDeleteI noticed you had reviewed this last night and was inspired to read the final book. I had the first book year's ago and found Granbretan (I would love it presented by Peake) and the French setting of Castle Brass interesting. However it really treaded familiar ground and I did not read the other volumes. Recently I found the set used as a single volume and tried again but got bogged down again. So now I done. Runestaff had interesting bits but followed the pattern of a number of Moorcock's books in this theme of the eternal champion in that it devolved into a scavenger hunt, with the hero moving from one magic object to another. It seems that Moorcock enjoys the intial world building part then gets bored. Elric and Corum Jhaelen Irsei
were much more interesting characters ( although the Corum series itself was bad ) Hawkmoon on the other hand did not seem to have any real depth and I really disliked him in the end. I found the nobles of Granbretan with their Nihilism far more interesting, even though they were of course very bad. Just my thoughts.
Happy Reading
Guy
Yeah, the four Runestaff books are very middle of the road, familiar material to anyone who has read a couple epic fantasy series. I find the Elric stories slightly more singular, but still determinedly traditional fantasy. One has to go to novels/novellas like Behold the Man to find Moorcock attempting something ambitious. (And he succeeds in that novel's case.)
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