The Worm Ouroboros by E. R. Eddison (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) đź“•
Description
The Worm Ouroboros is considered to be one of the foundational texts of the high fantasy genre, influencing later authors like J. R. R. Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, Ursula K. Leguin, and James Branch Cabell. It is most frequently compared to The Lord of the Rings in its epic scope set against a medieval, magic-laced backdrop—a world called “Middle Earth” by Eddison, thirty-two years before Tolkien’s—and in its almost mythical portrayal of larger-than-life heroes and villains.
The plot begins simply enough: The Lords of Demonland, a group of heroic warriors enjoying a strained peace, are called upon by an emissary of the warlock king of Witchland, Gorice XI. The emissary demands that Demonland submit to the King of Witchland—but the proud Demons refuse, setting off an epic war that spans their entire world. The heroic struggles of the Demons and their allies against the Witches reflect the circular nature of human history: the snake eating its own tail of the title.
The novel is written in a purposefully archaic, almost Jacobean style. The rich, surprising vocabulary and unusual spelling are testaments to Eddison’s expertise at reading and translating medieval-era texts. To this day, it remains perhaps unique in fantasy literature in the accuracy and precision of its highly affected prose style, perhaps matched only by the out-of-time strangeness of the prose in Hodgson’s The Night Land. But where critics often find The Night Land’s prose obtuse and difficult, they have nothing but praise for Eddison’s beautiful, quotable style.
Eddison had already imagined the story and its heroes as a child, and drawings he made as a youth of events in the book are preserved in the Bodleian library. While the novel is without a doubt the work of a mature and skilled writer, and while some of the events and characters are portrayed differently in the novel than they were in his youthful sketches, the names of many of the characters and places remain unchanged. Some of his contemporaries, like Tolkien, wondered about the strange naming style; others criticized it as taking away from the more serious subject matter.
The Worm Ouroboros remains one of the most influential works in the high fantasy genre to this day, and traces of the foundation it laid can be still be found in genre books a century after its publication.
Read free book «The Worm Ouroboros by E. R. Eddison (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: E. R. Eddison
Read book online «The Worm Ouroboros by E. R. Eddison (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕». Author - E. R. Eddison
But the Prince himself took flamboys and went six in company to the old banquet hall, overpowered the guard, brake open the doors, and so stood before Lord Juss and Lord Brandoch Daha that hung shackled to the wall side by side. Something dazzled they were in the sudden torchlight, but Lord Brandoch Daha spake and hailed the Prince, and his mocking haughty lazy accents were scarcely touched with hollowness, for all his hunger-starving and long watching and the cark and care of his affliction. “La Fireez!” he said. “Day ne’er broke up till now. And methought ye were yonder false fitchews fostered in filth and fen, the spawn of Witchland, returned again to fleer and flout at us.”
La Fireez told them how things had gone, and he said, “Occasion gallopeth apace. Upon this bargain do I loose you, that ye come incontinently with me out of Carcë, and seek no revenge tonight upon the Witches.”
Juss said yea to this; and Brandoch Daha laughed, saying, “Prince, I so love thee, I could refuse thee nothing, were it shave half my beard and go in fustian till harvest-time, sleep in my clothes, and discourse pious nothings seven hours a day with my lady’s lapdog. This night we be utterly thine. An instant only bear with us: this fare shows too good to rest untasted after so much looking on. It were discourteous too to leave it so.” Therewith, their chains being now stricken off, he eat a great slice of turkey and three quails boned and served in jelly, and Juss a dozen plovers’ eggs and a cold partridge. Lord Brandoch Daha said, “I prithee break the eggshells, Juss, when the meat is out, lest some sorcerer should prick or write thy name thereon, and so mischief thy person.” And pouring out a stoup of wine, he quaffed it off, and filling it again, “Perdition catch me if it be not mine own wine of Krothering! Saw any a carefuller host than King Gorice?” And he pledged Lord Juss in the second cup, saying, “I will drink with thee next in Carcë when the King of Witchland and all the lords thereof are slain.”
Thereafter they took their weapons that lay by on the table, set there to distress their souls and with little expectation they should so take them up again; and glad at heart albeit somewhat stiff of limb they went forth with La Fireez from that banquet hall.
When they were come into the courtyard Juss spake and said, “Herein might honour hold us back even hadst thou made no bargain with us, La Fireez. For great shame it were to us and we fell upon the lords of Witchland when they were drunk and unable to meet us in equal battle. But let us ere we be gone from Carcë ransack this hold for my kinsman Goldry Bluszco, since for his sake only and in hope to find him here we fared on this journey.”
“So you touch no other thing but only Goldry if ye shall find him, I am content,” said the Prince.
So when they had found keys they ransacked all Carcë, even to the dread chamber where the King had conjured and the vaults and cellars below the river. But it availed not.
And as they stood in the courtyard in the torchlight there came forth on a balcony the Lady Prezmyra in her nightgown, disturbed by this ransacking. Ethereal as a cloud she seemed, pavilioned in the balmy night, as a cloud touched by the exhalations of the unrisen moon. “What transformation is this?” said she. “Demons loose in the court?”
“Content thee, dear heart,” said the Prince. “Thy man is safe, and all else beside as I think; save that the King hath a broken head, the which I lament, and will without question soon be healed. They lie all in the banquet hall tonight, being too sleepy-sodden with the feast to take their chambers.”
Prezmyra cried, “My fears are fallen upon me. Art thou broken with Witchland?”
“That may I not forejudge,” he answered. “Tell them tomorrow that nought I did in hatred, and nought but what I was by circumstance enforced to. For I am not such a coward nor so great a villain as leave my friends caged up while strength is left me to work for their setting free.”
“You must straightway forth from Carcë,” said Prezmyra, “and that o’ the instant. My stepson Hacmon, which was sent to gather strength to awe thee if need were, rideth by now from the south with a great company. Thy horses are fresh, and ye may well outdistance the King’s men if they ride after you. If thou wilt not yet raise up a river of blood betwixt us, begone.”
“Why fare thee well, then, sister. And doubt it not, these rifts ’tween me and Witchland shall soon be patched up and forgot.” So spake the Prince with a merry voice, yet grieved at heart. For well he weened the King should never pardon him that blow, nor his robbing him of his prey.
But she said, sadly, “Farewell, my brother. And my heart tells me I shall never see thee more. When thou took’st these from prison, thou didst dig up two mandrakes shall bring sorrow and death to thee and to me and to all Witchland.”
The Prince
Comments (0)