“I don’t want to be a king. I want to travel around lightly and encounter adventures and have a lot of interesting fun. What’s the point of being a bastard if people are going to try to make you a king?”
Young Peregrine, bastard son of King Palandrine of Sapodilla, as in “the last pagan king in lower Europe!” is kicked out of the royal palace to make way for the legitimate heirs and sent to make his fortune among the crumbling ruins of the ancient Roman Empire.
The location of his native lands and the exact timeline are kept deliberately vague by the author, who wants to cram into his picaresque adventure as many historical and fantastical references as the young shoulders of his hero can carry. So, with a last palindrome dedicated to his amiable father, in the company of a stable boy named Daft Claudius and of a slightly rumpled uncle named Appledore ( The best royal combination philosopher, metaphysician, sorcerer, and impromptu a capella bard any weeny court like this is ever likely to see again in this cycle of the sun. ), Peregrine goes out into Early Middle Age history:
Stop, murder us not, tonsured rumpots!
One of the frequent subjects for satire and wordplay is religion, understandable given the conquering march of Christianity, on a warpath to stamp out all forms of heresy and/or pleasurable vices.
The subject may not be entirely fresh (only last month I read a similar literary adventure from John Myers Myers) but Davidson brings to the text his erudition, his sense of humor and his joy of language. He is almost forgotten now, but he had on his mantle shelf Hugo, Nebula, World Fantasy and Ellery Queen awards. The blurbs on his novels are written by some of my favorite writers in the field, like Gene Wolfe, Jack Vance and Ray Bradbury:
‘Avram Davidson, to me, combines many talents and attributes including imagination, style, and perhaps above all, wit’ (Ray Bradbury)
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There is little in terms of plot to be found here, although several paths are offered to Peregrine for consideration: he might search for his older illegitimate brother, he might seek Princess Poppyseed who appeared to him in a dream, he might decode the prophecy of a strange giant he met on the road * or he might try to resolve the mystery of a crown and flag he finds in a dragon’s lair.
* “In this age of change and of decay, of progress and retrogression, many are those who must move on if they at least would stand still.”
In the end, Perry, Claud and Appledore will chase money, drinks and brothels across the lower Pannonia, get into tousles with dragons and Huns, survive revolutions and torture dungeons and so on ...
Sic friatur crustulum, as Ovid puts it: ‘thus’ or, ‘in that matter, does the cookie crumble.’
I was having too much fun with the language and the pig Latin citations to bother checking out the references made in the text, although general Stilicho (358-408) and Empress Theodora (490-548) are known to historical records. I wouldn’t swear the same for Augustus the Penurious, aka Stinky Gus, or Atilla IV, Grand Hetman of the Hun Hordes, Scourge of God, King of the Hun Horde Number Seventeen. Surely, they were not contemporary with a certain wanderer that goes by the name of Ulyxes, speaks in modern slang and complains about the fidelity of his wife Penny. I doubt there ever was a Saint named Vespertilionid, a converted vampire of good family, but apparently omphiloskepsis * is a real heresy that can get you banned from a city on the Stygian Riviera.
* navel gazing
My favorite scene in the book seems lifted wholesale from a Monty Python sketch and describes a hilarious General Anathema performed in the central plaza of Chiringirium. It is too long to include here, but it does include a recipe for vegetable curry.
The ending of the novel is a little too ambiguous and too literary for immediate decoding, but at least it leaves the door open for a sequel that goes by the name of Peregrine: Secundus.
I hope I can get my hands on a copy later this year.