What I'm Reading This Month
By Donne Puckle
December 2006


The Worm Ouroboros by E. R. Eddison. I'm drawn to this, having seen it listed in the Dover Publications Catalog (2006 reprint of the 1922 edition). The work is praised by J. R. R. Tolkien as "[T]he greatest and most convincing writer of 'invented worlds' that I have read.” Simply, it is an account of War, Death and Destruction, of Bloody Battles, swords dripping with gore. It is filled with intrigue and conspiracies, of spells cast. It is peopled with Kings and Queens, Witches and Demons. And like the Worm Ouroboros, the tale turns upon itself at the end.

But what makes this novel so delightful is the beauty of its images. There are places which force the reader to go back and read again, to savor the words, to delight in the images, to wish most heartily that one could see it with one’s own eyes. To cite just one example,
"And with the opening day the mists swathing the mountains' skirts were lifted up in billowy masses that grew and shrank and grew again, made restless by the wayward winds which morning waked in the hollow mountain side, and torn by them into wisps and streamers. Some were blown upward, steaming up the great gullies in the rocks below the peak, while now and then a puff of cloud swam free for a minute, floated a minute's space as ready to sail skyward, then indolently stooped again to the mountain wall to veil it in an unsubstantial fleece of golden vapour."
Here, then, an epic battle between the good and the evil. Written, as the back cover tells us, "with a majestic, Shakespearian narrative style." I enjoyed this not just for the rollicking adventure but even more so for the beauty of the language and the images it created for me. Image piled upon image each adding its own element to create a work of literary art. Oh, that we might do the same in our conversations... but, alas, might be found to be so quite contrived. But, thank goodness, for those who are willing to write so we might so enjoy the wonders of language.


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