Review of Lud-in-the-Mist by Hope Mirrlees

Lud-in-the-Mist by Hope Mirrlees (first published under the author’s name in 1926, now available in trade paperback from Wildside Press for $8.99, 217 pages) is a sleepy, old school British fairytale, a proto-fantasy novel whose publication pre-dates The Hobbit by over a decade.  Neil Gaiman in The View from the Cheap Seats cites it and Dunsany’s The King of Elfland’s Daughter among the books that most influenced his own writing in general and his best selling novel Stardust in particular. 

The titular Lud-in-the-Mist is the name of the city in which almost all of the action of the novel takes place.  It is a fantasy, agrarian, seaside, late 18^thCentury-like community located between the rivers Dapple and Dawl and on the border of the forbidden Fairyland from which, once entered, one does not ever return.  The Luddites of this world do not eschew technology as did the Luddites of our world, but they do eschew the consumption of “fairy fruit” which hallucinogen was the vice of the aristocratic class before the revolution which overthrew them.  However, as with illegal drugs in our world, there is a black market for this forbidden fruit in Lud-in-the-Mist as well as unscrupulous characters, particularly the aptly if obviously named “Willy Wisp,” that enjoy wreaking havoc by slipping some of the mind-altering substance into unsuspecting people’s food.

The novel may be read as a straightforward fantasy/fairytale which, as one might predict, provides an excuse for the protagonist, the somewhat inept but loveable Master Nathaniel Chanticleer, to venture (albeit painfully slowly by today’s standards) into the mysterious Fairyland on a quest.  Woven into the story is the investigation of a “cold case” murder that occurred about two generations prior.  The novel may also be read as a satirical commentary on the arbitrary and artificial aspects of the British legal system.

Every fairytale has a moral, and this one is no exception.  The moral of the story of Lud-in-the-Mist is provided directly by the omniscient narrator (the author) as, 

“The Written Word is a Fairy, as mocking and elusive as Willy Wisp, speaking lying words to us in a feigned voice.  So let all readers of books take warning!”

Add “consumers of the media” to “readers of books” and one has a lesson that is just as relevant and valuable today as it was when Lud-in-the-Mist was published almost a century ago.

A Call To All Gentlemen in Response to Those Who View Masculinity As "Toxic"

Gallantry.  Chivalry.  Husbandry.  Nobility.  Humility.  Generosity.  Bravery.  Honorability.  Sobriety.  Reliability.  Loyalty.  These are just a taste of some of the manly virtues.  Few men emulate all of them all of the time, but most men emulate at least some of them some of the time.  Even the worst criminals among men may still have a strong sense of honor and loyalty.  

Within every man, there is a knight waiting to be born or already errant.  Be proud of this heritage, gentlemen!  The daughters of Morgana and sons of Mordred may mock you, but you must show them through your deeds and your demeanor that you know otherwise. 

Review of Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo

I finally found the time to read Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo (Henry Holt & Co, 2016), the sequel to and conclusion of the story that began in Six of Crows (reviewed in Steves of Grass July 22, 2018).  The story picks right up where the adventures in Six of Crows ended.

Each chapter is narrated from the point-of-view of a single character, a device Bardugo wisely chose to continue.  However, this time the characters have already been introduced to the reader in Crows, so the author is able to add considerable depth of development to each of them.  Since the reader cannot help but care about these characters, even the morally dubious anti-hero Kaz Brekker, this makes for some interesting reading--an entertaining study in and of itself.

The plot, which I will not spoil here, does not disappoint either.  It is paced well with many intricate twists and surprises, narrow escapes, epic fights, a bit of romance of the homosexual variety (that I did not see coming), and even a sprinkling of humor.  

One disappointment was that there was no further world-building.  I would have liked to have learned more about some of the countries and cultures of Bardugo’s Grisha universe.  Perhaps future books set in the same universe, such as the forthcoming King of Scars, will remedy this.

The YA rating of the duology notwithstanding, the faint of heart should beware!  While the volume of outright graphic violence is much lower in Kingdom vs Crows, the threat of violence, including psychologically scarring imprisonment and torture of children, is part of the fabric of Kingdom.  Without spoiling too much, the death of a beloved character also pushes this book into the adult realm.

Kingdom cannot stand-alone any more than The Two Towers could, so if you plan to read Kingdom, plan to read Crows first.  There is no doubt that Kingdom is a must-read if you enjoyed Crows and are intrigued by Bardugo’s Grisha universe.