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The Biography of Manuel #9
The High Place
"In the sulphurous The High Place, the amoral hero Florian enters the sleeping-beauty story and (unlike Jurgen with Helen) does not draw back at the sight of excessive beauty. Complications ensue: Beauty is realistically diminished during pregnancy, the first-born child is forfeit to Satan under the pact that guaranteed Florain's success, and an irascible saint is eager to call down holy fire on transgressors. Florian treads close to damnation and is saved only when Satan and the angel Michael conspire to let recent events become, again, a dream: he has a rare second chance and learns better." -- The Encyclopedia of Fantasy
234 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1923
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About the author
James Branch Cabell
255 books125 followersJames Branch Cabell was an American author of fantasy fiction and belles lettres. Cabell was well regarded by his contemporaries, including H. L. Mencken, Edmund Wilson, and Sinclair Lewis. His works were considered escapist and fit well in the culture of the 1920s, when they were most popular. For Cabell, veracity was "the one unpardonable sin, not merely against art, but against human welfare."
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
February 27, 2012
James Branch Cabell was a phenomenal talent. He writes with wit and style, with turns of phrase that can take your breath away and displays of keen insight into human nature. Despite all this I find myself unable to love his works wholeheartedly. I’ve been accused of being something of a cynic or pessimist myself (I prefer the term pragmatist, thank you very much), but Cabell makes me look like a doe-eyed boy scout. While I certainly do not always disagree with many of his points about the incongruous and laughable aspects of human nature, I just can’t bring myself to wholeheartedly condemn even the best parts of it as mere illusion and wish fulfillment as he does. I also find that many of his stories in the great cycle of Poictesme, known collectively as “The Biography of Manuel”, lean a little too far towards the allegorical for my taste, though I readily admit that even Cabell’s allegorical characters have a fulsome and well-rounded nature. That being said reading _The High Place_ leads me to the conclusion that Cabell was first and foremost a moralist, though of a decidedly materialistic bent.
The “hero” of our tale is Florian, Duke of Puysange, descendent of both of the most famous members of the Poictesme cycle: Jurgen and Manuel. We first see him as a precocious boy wandering against all sound advice into the enchanted forest of Acaire. There he is taken to “the high place” wherein lies the castle of old King Helmas and his magically sleeping court and the boy is vouchsafed a vision of Melior, the King’s daughter and most beautiful woman in creation. From this point forward Florian retains this vision as his heart’s desire. All else in life pales in comparison to this great and lovely ideal. Herein lies the trouble.
Florian grows into a man who is certainly less than worthy of our admiration. He is a man of convenience who has disposed of four wives, and many more acquaintances and compatriots, when the waning of his desires, or the dictates of convenience, have urged him to do so. Of course in his own mind there was no maliciousness in these “acts of convenience”, Florian was simply following the dictates of his honour and his logic, the twin arbiters of his choices. He also performed these necessary acts in the most circumspect of ways, for he lives according to the great Law of Life as learned from his father: Thou shalt not offend against the notions of thy neighbours…at least publicly. Thus he retains respectability, while freeing himself to wantonly pursue his every desire. Every desire, that is, but one: the great desire of his heart for the beautiful, and apparently unattainable, Melior. Florian soon comes to discover, however, much to his ultimate chagrin, that this unattainability is less a reality than it at first appears.
The beginning of the end for Florian occurs when he meets “brown Janicot” the ever pragmatic and suavely accommodating Prince of this World. As is generally the case, a compact is made which involves a firstborn child and the ultimate loss of what Florian hopes to achieve. Florian is, however, in all things eminently logical so the price appears more than fair in order to attain his heart’s desire. Thus he once again enters the forest of Acaire armed with Janicot’s infernal blessing and destroys the now sleeping monsters that guard the castle of King Helmas, undoing the enchantment laid upon their land. Florian claims his expected price for his hero’s work: the hand of the king’s beautiful daughter in marriage. Things go downhill from here.
Once brought back to the real world some of Melior’s shine wears off. She is still a majestic beauty, but Florian soon learns, much to his regret, that she is also one of the stupidest people he has ever had the pleasure to meet. The incongruity of her actuality when compared to her hoped-for potentiality is disheartening to the poor Duke of Puysange and, after manfully fulfilling his marriage obligations, he leaves his great house of Bellegarde post-haste in order to hurry on the compact of Janicot so that he may be rid of this inconvenient reality. The ultimate moral of Florian’s tale is the truism perhaps more famously coined, and with a decidedly more optimistic spin, by Browning: that “a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?” One attains one’s heart’s desire only at the greatest of all perils, the ultimate loss of it forever. It would seem that Cabell allows for two types of happiness in the world: those whose dreams outsoar the commonplace and are never attained, and those whose pragmatism allows them to dispense with the airy cobwebs of poetic dreams and idealism. It is a world perhaps congruous with our own, but something of a bland one. In the final definition it would appear that mediocrity and self-delusion are the ultimate laws of human life.
To add to Florian’s consternation is the fact that his patron saint, St. Hoprig, also follows Melior back to the present day from his place in the forest of Acaire. The mere meeting of this person, upon whom Florian had pinned all of his hopes of intervention and salvation, is disquieting. Add to that the inconvenience of the saint’s powers and obvious regard for Melior, not to mention his very unsaintly bevahiour, and Florian is an unhappy man indeed. In one fell swoop Florian’s somewhat childish dreams of perfect beauty and perfect holiness are both destroyed by the fact of their attainment. The harsh light of day, it would seem, is unable to support the glamour of an ideal. As Cabell himself states: “there is nothing in life which possession does not discover to be inadequate”. Florian’s fault is his romanticism. His unhappiness is tied to the fact, as Melior herself advises him, that “[he] made the appalling discovery that [she] did not belong upon a pedestal.” He should have been more of a realist. Through many trials, and the intervention, not to say meddling, of a number of supernatural forces, Florian is left staring at the bald fact that the only solution to his problem proves to be to send back his embodied dreams from whence they came: to the land of story and song. The moment they are once again safely removed to the land of the fabled past Hoprig and Melior can once again allow Florian to merely admire them from afar and regain for him something of his former belief in their existence as ideals. In the end the ultimate conclusion of Florian’s story proves to be no less fantastic than his attaining of his dreams, and the instructive morality of his life-lesson is left, if not undone, then at least in a place of ambiguity.
Cabell’s story is chock-full of the somewhat acid revelations that poetry and dreaming are little more than something which “…embellishes a lazar-house with pastels.” He notes time and again that “…we strive for various prizes, saying “Happiness is there”, when in point of fact it is nowhere.” The fate of all heroes and lovers, it seems, is to ultimately rue the fact that they “…have ventured into the high place, that dreadful place wherein a man attains to his desires.” I can’t really say that much of what Cabell says doesn’t make sense, or have precedent in ‘reality’, but it is somewhat hard to see how the dreams of mankind can be so thoroughly trashed, and in the most poetic of language too. Cabell is a very interesting read, he seems to combine the fairy-tale whimsy of Gaiman and the poetic prose of Ashton Smith with the somewhat incongruous misanthropy of Harlan Ellison. An acquired taste indeed.
The “hero” of our tale is Florian, Duke of Puysange, descendent of both of the most famous members of the Poictesme cycle: Jurgen and Manuel. We first see him as a precocious boy wandering against all sound advice into the enchanted forest of Acaire. There he is taken to “the high place” wherein lies the castle of old King Helmas and his magically sleeping court and the boy is vouchsafed a vision of Melior, the King’s daughter and most beautiful woman in creation. From this point forward Florian retains this vision as his heart’s desire. All else in life pales in comparison to this great and lovely ideal. Herein lies the trouble.
Florian grows into a man who is certainly less than worthy of our admiration. He is a man of convenience who has disposed of four wives, and many more acquaintances and compatriots, when the waning of his desires, or the dictates of convenience, have urged him to do so. Of course in his own mind there was no maliciousness in these “acts of convenience”, Florian was simply following the dictates of his honour and his logic, the twin arbiters of his choices. He also performed these necessary acts in the most circumspect of ways, for he lives according to the great Law of Life as learned from his father: Thou shalt not offend against the notions of thy neighbours…at least publicly. Thus he retains respectability, while freeing himself to wantonly pursue his every desire. Every desire, that is, but one: the great desire of his heart for the beautiful, and apparently unattainable, Melior. Florian soon comes to discover, however, much to his ultimate chagrin, that this unattainability is less a reality than it at first appears.
The beginning of the end for Florian occurs when he meets “brown Janicot” the ever pragmatic and suavely accommodating Prince of this World. As is generally the case, a compact is made which involves a firstborn child and the ultimate loss of what Florian hopes to achieve. Florian is, however, in all things eminently logical so the price appears more than fair in order to attain his heart’s desire. Thus he once again enters the forest of Acaire armed with Janicot’s infernal blessing and destroys the now sleeping monsters that guard the castle of King Helmas, undoing the enchantment laid upon their land. Florian claims his expected price for his hero’s work: the hand of the king’s beautiful daughter in marriage. Things go downhill from here.
Once brought back to the real world some of Melior’s shine wears off. She is still a majestic beauty, but Florian soon learns, much to his regret, that she is also one of the stupidest people he has ever had the pleasure to meet. The incongruity of her actuality when compared to her hoped-for potentiality is disheartening to the poor Duke of Puysange and, after manfully fulfilling his marriage obligations, he leaves his great house of Bellegarde post-haste in order to hurry on the compact of Janicot so that he may be rid of this inconvenient reality. The ultimate moral of Florian’s tale is the truism perhaps more famously coined, and with a decidedly more optimistic spin, by Browning: that “a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?” One attains one’s heart’s desire only at the greatest of all perils, the ultimate loss of it forever. It would seem that Cabell allows for two types of happiness in the world: those whose dreams outsoar the commonplace and are never attained, and those whose pragmatism allows them to dispense with the airy cobwebs of poetic dreams and idealism. It is a world perhaps congruous with our own, but something of a bland one. In the final definition it would appear that mediocrity and self-delusion are the ultimate laws of human life.
To add to Florian’s consternation is the fact that his patron saint, St. Hoprig, also follows Melior back to the present day from his place in the forest of Acaire. The mere meeting of this person, upon whom Florian had pinned all of his hopes of intervention and salvation, is disquieting. Add to that the inconvenience of the saint’s powers and obvious regard for Melior, not to mention his very unsaintly bevahiour, and Florian is an unhappy man indeed. In one fell swoop Florian’s somewhat childish dreams of perfect beauty and perfect holiness are both destroyed by the fact of their attainment. The harsh light of day, it would seem, is unable to support the glamour of an ideal. As Cabell himself states: “there is nothing in life which possession does not discover to be inadequate”. Florian’s fault is his romanticism. His unhappiness is tied to the fact, as Melior herself advises him, that “[he] made the appalling discovery that [she] did not belong upon a pedestal.” He should have been more of a realist. Through many trials, and the intervention, not to say meddling, of a number of supernatural forces, Florian is left staring at the bald fact that the only solution to his problem proves to be to send back his embodied dreams from whence they came: to the land of story and song. The moment they are once again safely removed to the land of the fabled past Hoprig and Melior can once again allow Florian to merely admire them from afar and regain for him something of his former belief in their existence as ideals. In the end the ultimate conclusion of Florian’s story proves to be no less fantastic than his attaining of his dreams, and the instructive morality of his life-lesson is left, if not undone, then at least in a place of ambiguity.
Cabell’s story is chock-full of the somewhat acid revelations that poetry and dreaming are little more than something which “…embellishes a lazar-house with pastels.” He notes time and again that “…we strive for various prizes, saying “Happiness is there”, when in point of fact it is nowhere.” The fate of all heroes and lovers, it seems, is to ultimately rue the fact that they “…have ventured into the high place, that dreadful place wherein a man attains to his desires.” I can’t really say that much of what Cabell says doesn’t make sense, or have precedent in ‘reality’, but it is somewhat hard to see how the dreams of mankind can be so thoroughly trashed, and in the most poetic of language too. Cabell is a very interesting read, he seems to combine the fairy-tale whimsy of Gaiman and the poetic prose of Ashton Smith with the somewhat incongruous misanthropy of Harlan Ellison. An acquired taste indeed.
March 21, 2022
Upon rereading "The High Place" after several years, I found myself, after the first 10 chapters, wondering why I liked this one enough in the first place to give it four stars. Because I just could not stand the main character.
Here we follow Florian de Puysange. He is a distant descendent of the Florian from the previous book in the series, "The Line of Love," who himself was the son of Jurgen and who married Count Manuel's great- grandaughter. So this new Florian is supposed to be the new mask of the Biography, having traits of both Jurgen and Manuel. He certainly inherited Jurgen's tendencies toward sexual promiscuity and manipulation of others. But whereas Jurgen could feel grief and loss, could sympathize to an extent with the suffering of others, and was capable of introspection, we now are following a complete sociopath. We learn early on that he has married and murdered multiple wives, has also been sleeping with his sister, and is seen poisoning a male concubine to maintain appearances after announcing that he is getting married yet again.
This time he plans to marry Melior, a princess who he had found asleep along with her entire court due to an enchantment by her sorcerer sister, Mélusine. In order to save the sleeping beauty from the enchantment, Florian enlists the help of Janicot, who is a Basque pagan god that is obviously meant as a stand-in for the Devil. Janicot strikes a bargain with Florian that he can marry and enjoy Melior until they have a child. At that point, Florian must kill the child as a sacrifice to Janicot and his wife will disappear.
Now, perhaps I had gone into this story somewhat jaded because I had just read "Jurgen," and this felt like a rehashing of that superior novel. Only this time, we do not have any likeable protagonist, whoever flawed, to follow. Jurgen grew as a character when his nag of a wife was spirited away, and you wondered if he would ever consent to actually get her back. People can have sympathy for someone unhappy in their marriage, so when Jurgen becomes embroiled in other relationships, learning to appreciate his wife with each affair, we remain invested in his arc. But in this case, Florian was such a fiend that I only wanted to see him castrated.
However, with patience, I remembered that "The High Place" does indeed have it's own things to say, even though it carries many of the same themes as the other books in Cabell's Biography. It does carry with it some intrepid wit, but overall is not as overtly funny as some other entries. On the other hand, it does have some great characters, particularly Saint Hoprig, though I found Melior herself to be a bit tiresome, as Cabell portrays her as a stereotypical shrew wife. Her constant circumstantial chatter and beratement drives both Florian and the reader mad. She reminded me too much of the kind of wife that was portrayed in comedy films of the 20s and 30s, such as in "It's a Gift." But most of all, I did enjoy the twists and turns of the narrative, and I would say that these were suprising enough even on a second read. There were also some stunning fantasy set-pieces, and I was delighted to see the return of Queen Freydis in Antan, though she really makes little more than a cameo along with some other familiar faces...
Overall, the story wraps itself quite nicely with some thoughtful themes and morals. I even came to not mind the "hero" so much. As usual, Cabell's writing is both very classically romantic and also ahead of it's time. I would not quite say that this is the work of genius as some of his other novels, but it is one of the more accessible.
Here we follow Florian de Puysange. He is a distant descendent of the Florian from the previous book in the series, "The Line of Love," who himself was the son of Jurgen and who married Count Manuel's great- grandaughter. So this new Florian is supposed to be the new mask of the Biography, having traits of both Jurgen and Manuel. He certainly inherited Jurgen's tendencies toward sexual promiscuity and manipulation of others. But whereas Jurgen could feel grief and loss, could sympathize to an extent with the suffering of others, and was capable of introspection, we now are following a complete sociopath. We learn early on that he has married and murdered multiple wives, has also been sleeping with his sister, and is seen poisoning a male concubine to maintain appearances after announcing that he is getting married yet again.
This time he plans to marry Melior, a princess who he had found asleep along with her entire court due to an enchantment by her sorcerer sister, Mélusine. In order to save the sleeping beauty from the enchantment, Florian enlists the help of Janicot, who is a Basque pagan god that is obviously meant as a stand-in for the Devil. Janicot strikes a bargain with Florian that he can marry and enjoy Melior until they have a child. At that point, Florian must kill the child as a sacrifice to Janicot and his wife will disappear.
Now, perhaps I had gone into this story somewhat jaded because I had just read "Jurgen," and this felt like a rehashing of that superior novel. Only this time, we do not have any likeable protagonist, whoever flawed, to follow. Jurgen grew as a character when his nag of a wife was spirited away, and you wondered if he would ever consent to actually get her back. People can have sympathy for someone unhappy in their marriage, so when Jurgen becomes embroiled in other relationships, learning to appreciate his wife with each affair, we remain invested in his arc. But in this case, Florian was such a fiend that I only wanted to see him castrated.
However, with patience, I remembered that "The High Place" does indeed have it's own things to say, even though it carries many of the same themes as the other books in Cabell's Biography. It does carry with it some intrepid wit, but overall is not as overtly funny as some other entries. On the other hand, it does have some great characters, particularly Saint Hoprig, though I found Melior herself to be a bit tiresome, as Cabell portrays her as a stereotypical shrew wife. Her constant circumstantial chatter and beratement drives both Florian and the reader mad. She reminded me too much of the kind of wife that was portrayed in comedy films of the 20s and 30s, such as in "It's a Gift." But most of all, I did enjoy the twists and turns of the narrative, and I would say that these were suprising enough even on a second read. There were also some stunning fantasy set-pieces, and I was delighted to see the return of Queen Freydis in Antan, though she really makes little more than a cameo along with some other familiar faces...
Overall, the story wraps itself quite nicely with some thoughtful themes and morals. I even came to not mind the "hero" so much. As usual, Cabell's writing is both very classically romantic and also ahead of it's time. I would not quite say that this is the work of genius as some of his other novels, but it is one of the more accessible.
September 10, 2016
Beautifully written, witty and fundamentally cynical. Florian de Puysange sees the sleeping form of Melusine, the most perfect of all women, and sets out with some singleness of purpose to attain her only to discover that some things are best left unattained. Florian would probably regard himself as an eminently practical fellow; over the course of the book you discover, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that he's actually fairly despicable by almost any standard you'd care to apply; at the time he seeks Melusine he's already left behind four wives and any number of paramours of a more casual variety, all of whom seem to have suffered unfortunate accidents of one sort or another.
Cabell's prose is, as always, a joy to read, regardless of the unpleasantness of the events being so delicately alluded to; in addition to Florian, the book features various highly suspect saints, angels and devils, and by the end although it's probably not fair to say that everyone has lived happily ever after, things at least have circled back to some sort of conclusion.
Cabell's prose is, as always, a joy to read, regardless of the unpleasantness of the events being so delicately alluded to; in addition to Florian, the book features various highly suspect saints, angels and devils, and by the end although it's probably not fair to say that everyone has lived happily ever after, things at least have circled back to some sort of conclusion.
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October 9, 2025I enjoyed this droll, if dark, deconstruction of the Sleeping Beauty myth. Michael Swanwick, Cabell's foremost contemporary critic, dismisses Florian de Puysange the protagonist of The High Place, as an unrelatable psychopath. But I didn't have trouble relating to him. I wouldn't go so far as to say I identified with him, but I guess I can still at least tolerate a novel centered on a sinister character. (Maybe that says more about me than the book!)
If I had to criticize The High Place for something, it would be that it's too similar to Jurgen in its structure, style, and, especially, conclusion. Still, after the foggy pretense of The Cream of the Jest, the maddening monotony of Something About Eve, and the weird obscurantism of Figures of Earth, I found it a relief to read something by Cabell that worked well as a coherent story. I'd probably rank The High Place as my (distant) third favorite Cabell novel, after The Silver Stallion and Jurgen.
The cover for the edition of The High Place I selected for my Goodreads profile is my favorite piece of art inspired by Cabell, the most perfect visual encapsulation of his tone and themes. The image wraps around to the back cover; unfortunately, you can't see the whole thing here. I believe it was by C. Frank Pape.
If I had to criticize The High Place for something, it would be that it's too similar to Jurgen in its structure, style, and, especially, conclusion. Still, after the foggy pretense of The Cream of the Jest, the maddening monotony of Something About Eve, and the weird obscurantism of Figures of Earth, I found it a relief to read something by Cabell that worked well as a coherent story. I'd probably rank The High Place as my (distant) third favorite Cabell novel, after The Silver Stallion and Jurgen.
The cover for the edition of The High Place I selected for my Goodreads profile is my favorite piece of art inspired by Cabell, the most perfect visual encapsulation of his tone and themes. The image wraps around to the back cover; unfortunately, you can't see the whole thing here. I believe it was by C. Frank Pape.
December 2, 2024
”An extremely amusing book, full of both gaudy nonsense and penetrating observations. The tale has charms almost without measure. Mr. Cabell was never more shrewd, sardonic, iconoclastic, daring. He has made a romance that is captivating in itself, and yet remains the reductio ad absurdum of all romance. It is as if the species came to perfect flower in a bloom that poisoned itself.
H.L. Mencken, from his review in The American Mercury
The High Place is an erudite and fantastical romance for the sophisticated cynic. It presents a world in which Bluebeard (for that is essentially who Florian, the protagonist is) is obsessed with Sleeping Beauty, and bargains with the Devil (or perhaps greater than the devil) to lift the enchantment and gain his heart’s desire. This being Cabell, side characters include accidental saints, fallen gods, contending angels, and various other fantastical beings all of which exist as tools for Cabell’s satirical and iconoclastic deconstruction of his society and its mores.
Though Florian, this book’s antihero, is descended from both Manuel and Jurgen, heroes of earlier Cabell books, he is much harder to like than either of them. While he has the definite charm of all Cabell protagonist, his callous amorality makes him difficult to relate to. He has murdered four wives, and murders his catamite lover when preparing to marry his fifth wife (while only dismissing his mistress). Fulfilling his bargain to gain his heart’s desire leads him to both fratricide and killing his best friend, all of which he does with little more than a c’est la vie reaction. He’s definitely a charming monster, but his casual monstrosities put him outside the scope of my sympathies.
H.L. Mencken, from his review in The American Mercury
The High Place is an erudite and fantastical romance for the sophisticated cynic. It presents a world in which Bluebeard (for that is essentially who Florian, the protagonist is) is obsessed with Sleeping Beauty, and bargains with the Devil (or perhaps greater than the devil) to lift the enchantment and gain his heart’s desire. This being Cabell, side characters include accidental saints, fallen gods, contending angels, and various other fantastical beings all of which exist as tools for Cabell’s satirical and iconoclastic deconstruction of his society and its mores.
Though Florian, this book’s antihero, is descended from both Manuel and Jurgen, heroes of earlier Cabell books, he is much harder to like than either of them. While he has the definite charm of all Cabell protagonist, his callous amorality makes him difficult to relate to. He has murdered four wives, and murders his catamite lover when preparing to marry his fifth wife (while only dismissing his mistress). Fulfilling his bargain to gain his heart’s desire leads him to both fratricide and killing his best friend, all of which he does with little more than a c’est la vie reaction. He’s definitely a charming monster, but his casual monstrosities put him outside the scope of my sympathies.
March 3, 2023
Wow, that was a lot. Five-stars for great writing but.. i’m probably only give it a 4-star for enjoyment due to it being a VERY dark comedy. I mean its one of those tales like House of Cards, or You.. eh? Dexter maybe... maybe not he’s probably too nice.. the point is the protagonist here is a complete monster.
He is in fact very much a version of Blue Beard from the fairytale amongst other things. This is the most fairytale-like of Cabell’s works i’ve read. There’s always some mythology or folklore but this one uses the most from what we generally consider fairytales.
Anyway that's the only real problem i had with this, the protagonist is so evil (although he’s very polite about it) that it robbed things of some of the delight which was on offer.
That aside this is also the most Pratchett-esque aka satirical of Cabell’s works. With its views of history and religion and the way the magical is treated so matter-of-fact being very comparable to Pratchett, albeit much darker.
The protagonist, Florian’s rather nietzschean.. or hedonistic or whatever the correct term might be, world view is an important part of that satire. He justifies all his actions by citing the examples of history and myth, this does not make his actions any less horrible but rather forces the reader to ponder just how terrible most renowned people from history/myth are.
There’s some really nice stuff throughout this as usual and it feels like frankly a more daring and potentially dangerous thing to write than Jurgen, which they tried to ban.
Quite brilliant, but as i said not quite as enjoyable as Jurgen and Figures of Earth (the latter is my fave despite being delightfully depressing :D ) due to Florian who i couldn’t quite view with the magnanimity needed.
He is in fact very much a version of Blue Beard from the fairytale amongst other things. This is the most fairytale-like of Cabell’s works i’ve read. There’s always some mythology or folklore but this one uses the most from what we generally consider fairytales.
Anyway that's the only real problem i had with this, the protagonist is so evil (although he’s very polite about it) that it robbed things of some of the delight which was on offer.
That aside this is also the most Pratchett-esque aka satirical of Cabell’s works. With its views of history and religion and the way the magical is treated so matter-of-fact being very comparable to Pratchett, albeit much darker.
The protagonist, Florian’s rather nietzschean.. or hedonistic or whatever the correct term might be, world view is an important part of that satire. He justifies all his actions by citing the examples of history and myth, this does not make his actions any less horrible but rather forces the reader to ponder just how terrible most renowned people from history/myth are.
There’s some really nice stuff throughout this as usual and it feels like frankly a more daring and potentially dangerous thing to write than Jurgen, which they tried to ban.
Quite brilliant, but as i said not quite as enjoyable as Jurgen and Figures of Earth (the latter is my fave despite being delightfully depressing :D ) due to Florian who i couldn’t quite view with the magnanimity needed.
July 4, 2022
Cabell meshes characterization of a 'romantic' with utterly self-serving behavior driven, as Florian sees it, through the lens of honor, logic, and an exhortation to at least provide the veneer of respectability. The result is one of the most despicable characters to grace the page, and one where the bright eloquence and wit of the writing does not mitigate the steady unpleasantness of the reading.
The flaw in Florian's character--okay, the one that causes him the most distress--is that his romanticism demands more than surface appearance, and disillusionment occurs as relationships crack the outer shell. Melior's actual personality is not agreeable to him, knocking her off the pedestal she never desired. The quid pro quo that Florian thought he had with his patron St. Hoprig proves inadequate for securing salvation, and Florian balks at the concept of actual repentance, instead hiding behind contortionist logic.
Calling Florian 'self-deceiving' in fact grants him too much in the way of introspection.
The craftsmanship is the reason to spend time with Florian. Cabell revels in devices small and large: one whole chapter is rendered in second person as Florian argues the sword Flamberge out of its possessor, bending logic as necessary to cover his tracks. Melior systematically destroys Florian's image of chivalric romance with just a recitation of the physical inconvenience involved. The exhortation "let us be logical!" as a signifier of something remarkably self-serving. Even Cabell's own introduction is a remarkably subtle knife. This is the sort of book which will reward rereads.
The flaw in Florian's character--okay, the one that causes him the most distress--is that his romanticism demands more than surface appearance, and disillusionment occurs as relationships crack the outer shell. Melior's actual personality is not agreeable to him, knocking her off the pedestal she never desired. The quid pro quo that Florian thought he had with his patron St. Hoprig proves inadequate for securing salvation, and Florian balks at the concept of actual repentance, instead hiding behind contortionist logic.
Calling Florian 'self-deceiving' in fact grants him too much in the way of introspection.
The craftsmanship is the reason to spend time with Florian. Cabell revels in devices small and large: one whole chapter is rendered in second person as Florian argues the sword Flamberge out of its possessor, bending logic as necessary to cover his tracks. Melior systematically destroys Florian's image of chivalric romance with just a recitation of the physical inconvenience involved. The exhortation "let us be logical!" as a signifier of something remarkably self-serving. Even Cabell's own introduction is a remarkably subtle knife. This is the sort of book which will reward rereads.
June 2, 2021
I enjoy Cabell’s use of language, but I didn’t really enjoy this one.
I’m as cynical as they come, but this satire was biting beyond the point of cynicism and actually got tiresome.
Also made it hard to really like the character or care about his issues - this book could have really used some moments of levity. There was certainly humor, but not much levity.
I’m as cynical as they come, but this satire was biting beyond the point of cynicism and actually got tiresome.
Also made it hard to really like the character or care about his issues - this book could have really used some moments of levity. There was certainly humor, but not much levity.
March 24, 2020
Only 4 stars for this one, though it approaches his best work. Reads shorter than it is because it hangs together so well, with fewer of Cabell's puzzling excursions into nostalgia. The corrosive nature of Cabellian philosophy prevents me from loving it, though. Florian is one of the writer's less likeable anti-heroes, being even more calmly murderous than most. Jurgen was a positive Hamlet by comparison. But as a Romance (not so much a Comedy) of Disillusionment it is bracing. No married man can read it without at least a few smothered laughs and rueful recognitions.
One thing more. Coming back to a writer one loved 40 years ago and more is fraught with the risk of disappointment. And perhaps that accounts for the missing star. The prose is discursive and too often indirect - must sentences be so periodic so often, one wonders? But of course that merely sets up the writer's famously ironic distance and facilitates the sting the characters feel when someone is so gauche as to state something baldly.
On to my favorites, Something About Eve and Jurgen and Figures of Earth and The Silver Stallion and maybe even Domnei.
One thing more. Coming back to a writer one loved 40 years ago and more is fraught with the risk of disappointment. And perhaps that accounts for the missing star. The prose is discursive and too often indirect - must sentences be so periodic so often, one wonders? But of course that merely sets up the writer's famously ironic distance and facilitates the sting the characters feel when someone is so gauche as to state something baldly.
On to my favorites, Something About Eve and Jurgen and Figures of Earth and The Silver Stallion and maybe even Domnei.
February 15, 2022
Cabell at his most cynical here: everyone is unlikable; life and love are vain fancies. But it's an interesting read for the narrator's voice, which is not exactly unreliable, but is dryly ironic to the point of unreliability. It's kind of like a puzzle to figure out what horrible thing the narrator is alluding to with his romantic language--for example, early on there's a scene with the hero as a child talking to his father and his nursemaid, and through the narrator's voice you can slowly figure out that the father hires nursemaids specifically to be his lovers, that he has begun to tire of this one, that she is pregnant and will soon commit suicide at his goading. But it's all so detached and dry that it's the blackest of humor, funny and horrible at the same time.
May 11, 2025
In the introduction to the Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series edition of James Branch Cabell's The High Place, Lin Carter writes, "Cabell himself is probably the only American fantasy writer of genius" (p. xi)—or, at least, as of 1970 when this edition was published. Perhaps surprisingly, Carter is raising Cabell above the likes of Clark Ashton Smith, L. Frank Baum, Fritz Leiber, and the host of other excellent early American fantasy writers.
The High Place was first published by Robert McBride in 1923 as one of the series of significant Cabell fantasies illustrated by Frank C. Papé. Unfortunately, the Ballantine edition skips reproducing the eight glorious full-page photogravure illustrations from the original edition, keeping only the smaller decorations at the end of each chapter. It was the first edition that I actually read, and which is the source for the references below. Aside from Cabell's three Witch Woman stories, all of his best fantasy was first printed in these Robert McBride editions, in my view, and all of them were revived one by one by Carter for the Ballantine series.
In his introduction, Carter explains Cabell's depiction throughout The Biography of the Life of Manuel of three fundamental approaches to life: the poetic, the chivalrous, and the gallant. Florian de Puysange of The High Place is a variety of gallant hero, like Jurgen in the book of that name, and like Manuel from Figures of Earth. The gallant approach is pragmatic and aims to make the best of the vicissitudes of life—no matter how selfish one must be to achieve one's dreams. Indeed, Florian is utterly ruthless in the "gallant" pursuit of his goals. He has done away with wife after wife as he tires of them, and early in The High Place he makes a pact with Monsieur Janicot, the devil, to sacrifice his first-born child in order to win the princess who is his ideal of perfect beauty. The High Place is a "Sleeping Beauty" story of sorts, though an utterly cynical Cabellian interpretation of the great fairy tale.
Florian is in good company with Manuel and Jurgen. Each has his catch-phrase. According to Manuel, "I am Manuel, and I follow after my own thinking and my own desire"; Jurgen frequently describes himself as "a monstrous clever fellow"; Florian, on the other hand often remarks, "Let us be logical." Perhaps Florian's attitude is right for his time and place in France at the start of the eighteenth century, in the middle of the European Enlightenment. However, for all three, their catch-phrases are a cover for pursuit of their own selfish aims.
I hadn't read The High Place for many years and I'd forgotten how good it was. It certainly belongs with Figures of Earth, The Silver Stallion, and Jurgen as one of Cabell's core fantasy novels. Moreover, it is strongly connected with these three novels, despite its being set several hundred years later than the time of Dom Manuel. Like these books, it is located in the imaginary French province of Poictesme; indeed, Florian is descended from both Dom Manuel and Jurgen, as Cabell reminds us frequently; several of our favourite characters from Figures of Earth make an appearance, including King Helmas and Queen Freydis; the latter, moreover, is the keeper of the enchanted sword Flamberge from Figures of Earth, which we last heard about in Domnei, set one generation after Dom Manuel, when Perion casts it into the ocean. Florian needs Flamberge to fight his way through the monsters to the top of the hill—the "high place"—to win the princess.
Actually, it is Horvendile who takes Florian to see Queen Freydis to get Flamberge. In several other Cabell fantasies, Horvendile makes an appearance, seemingly as an alter-ego of the author himself. Horvendile's role is even more apparent in The High Place, where Cabell uses him to explain the construction of his plot lines:
A little later, Florian comments of his conversation with Horvendile,
Obviously, this internal reference is to The Biography of the Life of Manuel itself! One of the joys of Cabell is the wealth of veiled jokes he makes, some of which I can spot, and many of which I am sure go over my head. Cabell's work requires long, close study to appreciate its nuances. Perhaps Carter is right to call him a writer of genius.
The High Place was first published by Robert McBride in 1923 as one of the series of significant Cabell fantasies illustrated by Frank C. Papé. Unfortunately, the Ballantine edition skips reproducing the eight glorious full-page photogravure illustrations from the original edition, keeping only the smaller decorations at the end of each chapter. It was the first edition that I actually read, and which is the source for the references below. Aside from Cabell's three Witch Woman stories, all of his best fantasy was first printed in these Robert McBride editions, in my view, and all of them were revived one by one by Carter for the Ballantine series.
In his introduction, Carter explains Cabell's depiction throughout The Biography of the Life of Manuel of three fundamental approaches to life: the poetic, the chivalrous, and the gallant. Florian de Puysange of The High Place is a variety of gallant hero, like Jurgen in the book of that name, and like Manuel from Figures of Earth. The gallant approach is pragmatic and aims to make the best of the vicissitudes of life—no matter how selfish one must be to achieve one's dreams. Indeed, Florian is utterly ruthless in the "gallant" pursuit of his goals. He has done away with wife after wife as he tires of them, and early in The High Place he makes a pact with Monsieur Janicot, the devil, to sacrifice his first-born child in order to win the princess who is his ideal of perfect beauty. The High Place is a "Sleeping Beauty" story of sorts, though an utterly cynical Cabellian interpretation of the great fairy tale.
Florian is in good company with Manuel and Jurgen. Each has his catch-phrase. According to Manuel, "I am Manuel, and I follow after my own thinking and my own desire"; Jurgen frequently describes himself as "a monstrous clever fellow"; Florian, on the other hand often remarks, "Let us be logical." Perhaps Florian's attitude is right for his time and place in France at the start of the eighteenth century, in the middle of the European Enlightenment. However, for all three, their catch-phrases are a cover for pursuit of their own selfish aims.
I hadn't read The High Place for many years and I'd forgotten how good it was. It certainly belongs with Figures of Earth, The Silver Stallion, and Jurgen as one of Cabell's core fantasy novels. Moreover, it is strongly connected with these three novels, despite its being set several hundred years later than the time of Dom Manuel. Like these books, it is located in the imaginary French province of Poictesme; indeed, Florian is descended from both Dom Manuel and Jurgen, as Cabell reminds us frequently; several of our favourite characters from Figures of Earth make an appearance, including King Helmas and Queen Freydis; the latter, moreover, is the keeper of the enchanted sword Flamberge from Figures of Earth, which we last heard about in Domnei, set one generation after Dom Manuel, when Perion casts it into the ocean. Florian needs Flamberge to fight his way through the monsters to the top of the hill—the "high place"—to win the princess.
Actually, it is Horvendile who takes Florian to see Queen Freydis to get Flamberge. In several other Cabell fantasies, Horvendile makes an appearance, seemingly as an alter-ego of the author himself. Horvendile's role is even more apparent in The High Place, where Cabell uses him to explain the construction of his plot lines:
“It is not ever a merry comedy,” replied Horvendile, “though, for one, I find it amusing. For I forewarn you that the comedy does not vary. The first act is the imagining of the place where contentment exists and may be come to; and the second act reveals the striving toward, and the third act the falling short of, that shining goal,—or else the attaining of it to discover that happiness, after all, abides a thought farther down the bogged, rocky, clogged, befogged heart-breaking road.” (pp. 164-165)
A little later, Florian comments of his conversation with Horvendile,
“I do not know. I talked lately with a Monsieur Horvendile, who had extreme notions about an Author who compiles an endless Biography, of the life that uses us as masks and temporary garments. (p. 212)
Obviously, this internal reference is to The Biography of the Life of Manuel itself! One of the joys of Cabell is the wealth of veiled jokes he makes, some of which I can spot, and many of which I am sure go over my head. Cabell's work requires long, close study to appreciate its nuances. Perhaps Carter is right to call him a writer of genius.
November 14, 2023
"Ah, your highness, let us not speak of my death, for it is a death which you would deplore."
"Would I deplore your death?" Orléans' head was now cocked until it lay almost on his left shoulder. "It is a fact of which I am not wholly persuaded."
"Would I deplore your death?" Orléans' head was now cocked until it lay almost on his left shoulder. "It is a fact of which I am not wholly persuaded."
May 3, 2025
Very funny despite its age.
August 27, 2012
A fascinating book in a peculiar, possibly unique style. Though one of a long “series” it stands perfectly on its own. Entertaining and diverse episodes, written with wit and irony but somehow still serious, build up and up to a philosophical conclusion staggering not so much for its content as for the power of its expression and the earnestness of the author. A comic novel tinged with the melancholy of dreamworlds, seen through the complex lens of modern reflection.
February 15, 2013
You have to be in the right mood for this book. Definitely funny, in a deadpan ironic witty sort of way. It's hard to identify with the main character though, a rich and entitled man who murders four wives and tries to kill the fifth....
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