Elidor

by Alan Garner

The much-loved classic, finally in ebook.

Roland, Helen, Nicholas and David, four Manchester children, are led into Elidor, a twilight world almost destroyed by fear and darkness.

On a gloomy day in Manchester, Roland, Helen, Nicholas and David are lured into a ruined church, where the fabric of time and place is weak enough to allow them into the twilight world of Elidor. It is a place almost destroyed by fear and darkness, and the children are charged with guarding its Treasures while a way is sought to save the dying land.

Then the evil forces find a path through to this world…

This new edition of Alan Garner’s classic includes a special “Why You’ll Love This Book” introduction from bestselling author, Jonathan Stroud.

Genres: Fantasy, Childrens, Fiction, Young Adult, Adventure, Middle Grade, Classics

208 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1965

About the author

Alan Garner OBE (born 17 October 1934) is an English novelist who is best known for his children's fantasy novels and his retellings of traditional British folk tales. His work is firmly rooted in the landscape, history and folklore of his native county of Cheshire, North West England, being set in the region and making use of the native Cheshire dialect.

Born into a working-class family in Congleton, Cheshire, Garner grew up around the nearby town of Alderley Edge, and spent much of his youth in the wooded area known locally as 'The Edge', where he gained an early interest in the folklore of the region. Studying at Manchester Grammar School and then Oxford University, in 1957 he moved to the nearby village of Blackden, where he bought and renovated an Early Modern building known as Toad Hall. His first novel, The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, was published in 1960. A children's fantasy novel set on the Edge, it incorporated elements of local folklore in its plot and characters. Garner completed a sequel, The Moon of Gomrath (1963), but left the third book of the trilogy he had envisioned. Instead he produced a string of further fantasy novels, Elidor (1965), The Owl Service (1967) and Red Shift (1973).

Turning away from fantasy as a genre, Garner produced The Stone Book Quartet (1979), a series of four short novellas detailing a day in the life of four generations of his family. He also published a series of British folk tales which he had rewritten in a series of books entitled Alan Garner's Fairy Tales of Gold (1979), Alan Garner's Book of British Fairy Tales (1984) and A Bag of Moonshine (1986). In his subsequent novels, Strandloper (1996) and Thursbitch (2003), he continued writing tales revolving around Cheshire, although without the fantasy elements which had characterised his earlier work. In 2012, he finally published a third book in the Weirdstone trilogy.

Reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alan_Garner

Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name. See this thread for more information.

Reviews

[Mark Lawrence · Rating 4 out of 5]

In 1967 Stephen King first got the idea to write an epic series inspired by the poem "Childe Rowland to the Dark Tower Came" by Robert Browning in 1855. And Browning took the line from King Lear, written by Shakespeare in 1607 ... in which it is a line of nonsense from a man pretending madness.

However King was not the first fantasy writer to draw inspiration from the line and write a book whose hero, Roland, engaged in an epic struggle. Alan Garner (under-sung giant of fantasy literature) published Elidor in 1965. The Shakespeare quote is printed on its own page immediately before chapter one, and Roland, the youngest of three brothers and a sister, is the hero of this piece.

I thought I'd read this book as a child, but no - reading it to my daughter Celyn this week has convinced me that I just remember passages of it from drama classes in my primary school when I was very small.

I did read some Alan Garner books as a child though, and they stuck with me because the man is a remarkable wordsmith. He uses the language to its full power, especially in descriptions, bringing every scene to life with prose that treads the outer borders of poetry.

Alan Garner writes (yes writes - he recently published the third book in the Tales of Alderly series after a 50 YEAR gap!) in the way in which I try to write. Much of his work looks to me like mine would if I were better at it.

Anyway, to the story. It's a short book, probably around 45,000 words, but a lot happens. It's a story rich in themes, rather less rich in characters. The children never become that much more than name tags with a bit of sibling interaction and a nice slant-ways glance at life in a suburban family in 1960s Manchester. The real interest is in their passage to Elidor, and on their return their struggle to keep the treasures they been given safe and to play their role in restoring life to the doomed world that seems to intersect ours at the fringes of society.

I enjoyed the story, it's full of imagination and no small amount of dark threat. Celyn enjoyed it too, though the passage of 50 years, combined with her own limited experience of the world, did require me to explain a number of things.

A book well worth pointing an intelligent child at, or using a child as an excuse to get to grips with just for the pleasure of the imagery Garner paints on a page.


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[Bionic Jean · Rating 5 out of 5]

Elidor is a short novel, a favourite from late childhood. Timeless, visionary, a tale of magic and myth, of hope and depair, it was a dark antidote to the happy Blyton bubble. In Alan Garner's world, reality had teeth and an edgy urban feel. Parts of his world were dark, malevolent and twisted. Primal forces were at work here and there was an impending sense of doom.

Having said this, much of the novel has humour and a sense of fun. Many years later, a reader inevitably has a different perspective rereading a favourite novel. It is a tribute to Alan Garner's writing that he can switch from powerful fantastical scenes to humdrum family life in a suburban home of yesteryear - and carry the reader with him.

This novel was originally written by Alan Garner in 1965, from his own radio play. It features four young teenage children, David, Nicholas, Helen and Roland, who inadvertently break though the fabric of time and space at a weak point, to find themselves in another universe. The plot moves to and fro between the sprawling city of Manchester, and Gorias, the gateway to Elidor. Elidor is, as it sounds, a magical fantasy world; a world of beauty and goodness, a golden Utopia, as described by one of its inhabitatants, Malebron, but a world which is under threat from evil forces.

At the start of the novel, the family is in Manchester, in the process of moving house. The children are therefore left more or less to their own devices. It is a typical gloomy day, and our protagonists go into the city centre, to find something to do to relieve the boredom (and naturally avoid being given jobs to do). A mechanical street map provides a few minutes' diversion, and on impulse they agree to find a road picked apparently at random.

From now on the foreboding seems to increase. The children walk along increasingly deserted back streets, parts of the "slum clearance", feeling more and more apprehensive as they notice the difference from their own comfortable suburban home. The reader is not sure whether it is the unfamilarity which is putting the children on edge, or something else, something more sinister. There seems to be more squabbling, but then perhaps this is part of the gritty realism of a typical family, rather than the more familiar descriptions in children's literature from the period, of idealised families. The children discover a church in ruins, and an old football. Inevitably during the game which follows, someone kicks the ball through one of the church's remaining windows, and the glass crashes into splinters. From that chilling moment, everything in the children's world changes as they discover the strange, mystical and mysterious world of Elidor,

"Round, and round, his voice went, and through it came a noise. It was low and vibrant, like wind in a chimney. It grew louder, more taut, and the wall blurred, and the floor shook. The noise was in the fabric of the church: it pulsed with sound. Then he heard a heavy door open; and close; and the noise faded away. It was now too still in the church, and the footsteps were moving over the rubble in the passage downstairs. 'Who's that?' said Roland. The footsteps reached the stairs, and began to climb."

As one by one the children are lured through the portal into the twilight world of Elidor, we view this through Roland's eyes, and feel what he feels. Roland is the most sensitive, the one we identify with. He is the one in the group whom nobody else will listen to, but is proved to be right. All the children are sensible and courageous, but only Roland remains clear-thinking and loyal under almost intolerable peer pressure. All the children must make choices and take on responsibilities far beyond anything their parents could understand. And here again is an irresistible tacit assumption made by older children's books, that the adults have closed minds. Adults may be cruel, stupid or risible - mere figures of fun. They may on the other hand be kind and sensible. But they are always, without a doubt, unimaginative and clueless.

Alan Garner here has made the parts where the four children are back in the dreary world of Manchester, a welcome relief; amusing sections, probably based on his own experience. Who can remember parties gone to under duress? Or duty visits to friends approved of by parents? Probably quite a few readers will recognise and chuckle at some beautifully drawn cameo roles. The inept but well-meaning father, the long-suffering but patient mother might also raise a smile. The aspirations of the parents in moving to somewhere just outside Manchester, the description of poverty-ridden slums, and post-war bombsites with ongoing demolition still awaiting construction, all set this story firmly within the late 1950's or early 1960's. It was a world and a time where children could go off and play in such places, where children were expected to devise their own amusements for much of the time, where even lower-middle class parents such as these were not overly concerned if the children walked back on their own late at night from a party.

There is now a nostalgic element to all of this. At the time it felt realistic - my own childhood sat somewhere between these children's and those in the back-to-back housing which was being cleared away and replaced by highrise tower blocks. I belonged to neither group, but knew children in both. I had discovered Alan Garner for myself and loved his writing. He seemed to speak to me alone. I loved his lyricism, his poetry; the way he could convey the beauty of a sound, an image, something unknown and intangible, and almost indescribable.

Yet his was also a grittier world than the cosy reality of most approved children's writers. He had an "edge". He had the imagination of C.S. Lewis - but his was a darker, brooding, gutsier world altogether. Think of a pagan version of Narnia, and you're almost there. I read several novels by Alan Garner, but later discovered that after the first four, his reality became increasingly darker than my own.

The amusing domestic episodes may come across to a modern young reader as almost historic. The technology seems ancient, from the days before everyone had computers. The talk of mechanical maps, radio signals, the horizontal and vertical holds on the television and the tiny white dot on the television screen getting smaller and smaller as it was turned off. At the time of publication they served to disperse the tension, and also make the reader yearn to be back in the fantasy world of Elidor. Perhaps they still do.

Although the children use slang from a bygone age, which may make a modern reader grimace or wince a little, these are no mere simpering characters, but a believable family. In the Watson family as any other, there is competitiveness, quarrelling and minor squabbles. Much of the narrative deals with the children's difficulties with parents and teachers, and the sheer impracticality of concealing their other-world responsibilities from their daily life in Manchester. But Elidor crashes through normality,

"The sound of air being torn like cloth burst on them, a dreadful sound that cracked with the force of lightning, as if the sky had split, and out of it came the noise of galloping hoofs. There was no warning, no approach: the hoofs were there, in the mist, close to the children, just ahead of them, on top of them, furious ... All about them was hoof and mane and foam,"

With writing like that, the readers longs to be back in the world of Elidor. It is a magical land, seen only in glimpses. The powers of evil seem to probe into the dreariness of Manchester, yet there is Elidor, whose very name seems to conjure up light and hope. But Elidor is all but dying, and overrun by evil. It is up to the four children to guard four treasures from the dark forces, but since their true nature is not apparent in their home world, their experience in Elidor becomes more like a dream, a dream which just occasionally bursts through into their comfortable yet ordinary life.

The two worlds merge at unexpected times. Roland has strange glimpses - some of which fill him with fear, but of course nobody believes him, and this is a trigger for him to push and push until ultimately the inevitable happens. Roland has personal integrity and responsibility. He knows he cannot be blameless for any terrible events which may be caused by his actions. He is a real hero, not a cardboard figure. But he is the only one in the end to hold to the promise all four made; the only one to stay true to the memory as time passes. He never becomes blind to the sinister portents, picking up ominous signals and clues; vague dark shadows in space, a cryptic design, and a rhyme on an old broken piece of pottery. He never forgets their immensely important task of guarding the treasures. It is Roland alone, who remains constant in his awareness of their destiny, and their part in the struggle to hold back the terrible darkness by fulfilling the prophecy.

After a humorous episode in which the children are either excuciatingly bored, or squirming with embarrassment, we become aware that they are in real danger. The tension is cranked up unrelentingly as, pursued by dark forces, they,

"... ran from pool to pool of the street lamps and sometimes they glimpsed a shadow, and sometimes there was a tall silhouette; and there was always too much darkness. When they turned the corner the white fluorescence of the railway station at the end of the road was like a sanctuary. They drove themselves toward its glass and concrete, as if ...danger of spear-edge and shield-rim would be powerless in the neon glare."

And the conclusion of the novel is a masterpiece of terror, leaving the reader wanting more - yet dreading what it might portend. For there is never an easy, happy ending, in a pagan myth.

Alan Garner's writing stems from myth and fantasy, but he invariably chooses the darker side of Faery. Two of his natural successors are Philip Pullman and Graham Joyce, although both authors conform to the present taste for longer novels. Philip Pullman has also created an "other" universe which does not always adhere to conventional moral precepts. Graham Joyce's novels have a similar pagan feel to Alan Garner's.

The origins of this particular novel are from a Welsh folktale, whose title can be translated as "Elidor and the Golden Ball". In it, Gerald of Wales, "Giraldus Cambrensis", described his 1188 journey across the country in a medieval account, "Itinerarium Cambriae", or "The Itinerary Through Wales". In the account, Elidor was a priest who, as a boy, was led by dwarfs to a castle of gold. This castle was in a land which, although beautiful, was not illuminated by the full light of the sun. Alan Garner develops this idea, making the golden walls of Gorias contrast with the dull sky in Elidor.

Reading the novel resulting from Alan Garner's script, it is possible to envisage how atmospheric the play must have been. The language is almost mystical in parts when read aloud, and with today's opportunities for excellence in cinematic special effects, it seems surprising that it has never been filmed.

This time round I listened to the text, and also read it on the page. It still had the magic. Even with 21st century eyes and a great deal more experience, I still found Alan Garner's writing very evocative, imaginative and powerful. And I still found the part when Findhorn finally appears almost unbearably poignant.

All things have their note, and will answer to it.

[Hilary · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars

I first read this when I was 7 years old. A reread today 40 years later to my youngest who had forgotten hearing this some time ago when she was small.

Four siblings come to visit another world and help by taking back treasures into ours to keep them safe. When they hide the treasures they find they are still not safe and something is trying to find them. The descriptions of the shadowy figures trying to break through to our world are convincing and subtle, good spine tingling stuff for a young reader. The descriptions of their attempts stayed with me. After having forgotten most of the details from this story the image of the porch and the letterbox stayed with me. The final scenes are both sad and hopeful, I always felt the ending too abrupt but on this reread it didn't seem so.

There is a quote I really like, I was surprised it wasn't included in the Elidor quotes on goodreads.

All things have their note, and will answer to it.

We really enjoyed escaping to Elidor and 1960s Manchester. The slum areas, bombsites and demolishing gangs were an interesting piece of history. We loved the slice of 60s life, the details of the television set problems, the vertical hold, putting on the set to 'warm up'!

I bought this lovely old penguin copy from a book sale just over 20 years ago, I had just discovered I was having a baby and the thought occurred to me that I'd have someone to read aloud to and share all these wonderful stories so this copy is really special for me.

[Alwynne · Rating 4 out of 5]

Alan Garner’s variation on the quest narrative draws on a range of sources from pagan myth to traditional ballads. It has echoes of C.S. Lewis’s Narnia series with its four siblings who accidentally cross into another realm and find themselves instrumental in its fate but there the resemblance ends. Garner’s children are not the privileged, upper-class group that Lewis envisaged, they’re from an ordinary family living an ordinary life, grounded in a reality closer to the one his readers might’ve inhabited. This is reinforced by Garner’s skilful weaving into his novel of depictions of England’s inner cities in the early 1960s at a point where “slum clearance”, and the demolition of bombed terraces left over from WW2, was about to destroy established communities and put in their place alienating high-rise blocks and sprawling modern estates radically altering the daily interactions of the families re-housed in them, and usually not for the better. Garner’s imagined world of Elidor has an air of wistful, melancholy and menace that seems to chime with these accompanying shifts in the urban landscape. His fantasy may feature charmed objects and cursed lands yet it’s far from escapist. When the Watson children stumble across the land of Elidor they encounter a desolate place blighted by some ancient evil, a bleakness that harks back to Garner's description of the streets bordering Manchester’s urban wastelands that lead to the entry point into this parallel realm. Although Elidor doesn’t quite equal the rich, complex texture of his best work, The Owl Service for example, it’s still an immensely satisfying experience, packed with memorable images: all presented in evocative prose that suggests Garner’s expectation that his young audience would be more than able to cope with unfamiliar language or references. Garner's words are complemented by Charles Keeping’s atmospheric illustrations.

[Mahdi Lotfi · Rating 2 out of 5]

از مقدمه کتاب
آلن گارنر در 17 اکتوبر سال1934 در خانه ییلاقی در چشر (cheshire) .به دنیا امد
دوران کودکیش در الدرلی اج (Alderly Edge) سپری شد
جائی که خانواده اش بیش از چهار صد سال در ان زندگی کرده اند. در دوران تحصیل او در مدرسه ابتدائی چند دوره بیماری شدید وقفه انداخت که سه مورد از انها او را تا نزدیکی مرگ برد.
در یازده سالگی به مدرسه منچستر (Manchester) رفت و قهرمان مسابقات دو سرعت دانش اموزان بریتانیا شد.
بعد ها برای تحصیل در رشته زبان و ادبیات کلاسیک یونانی و لاتین وارد آکسفورد (Oxford) شد آرزوی او برای دست یابی به عنوان استاد زبان یونانی دیری نپائید و در سال 1957 آکسفورد را رها کرد تا نویسنده شود.
ونخستین اثرش در سال 1960 منتشر شد. گارنر تاکنون چند کتاب و چند نمایشنامه و یک فیلمنامه نوشته و آثاری را برای سینما و تلویزیون اقتباس و تنظیم کرده است.

[Bookguide · Rating 5 out of 5]

When this was published, quality over quantity was still in evidence, and imagination prevails over description. Given the length of most fantasy books nowadays, with trilogies and series appearing more often than not, it's surprising that Alan Garner managed to pack so much tension into such a short book. As mother to a child who will always pick the shortest book on offer, and is therefore often left reading something which has no plot and little imagination, I've already advised him to try some of these older books to improve his experience of reading.

In spite of the unicorn on the front cover, which turns out to be a latecomer to the story, this turns out to be an intense and creepy fantasy story where most of the action actually takes place in the real world. This would be a great book to get confident readers interested in fantasy. I'm sure Alan Garner's The Owl Service was one of the books which sparked my first forays into the genre when I was twelve or thirteen. Recommended for children and adults who enjoy some suspense and magic, but are not prone to nightmares. This is no horror, but it does build on childhood nightmares.

'The darkness grew,' said Malebron. 'It is always there. We did not watch, and the power of night closed on Elidor. We had so much of ease that we did not mark the signs - a crop blighted, a spring failed, a man killed. Then it was too late - war, and siege, and betrayal, and the dying of the light.'[...]
'There is no hope but you.'
'Me,' said Roland. 'I'm no use. What could I do?'
'Nothing,' said Malebron, 'without me. And without you, I shall not live. Alone, we are lost: together, we shall bring the morning.'

[Jo Berry ☀️ · Rating 3 out of 5]

The story started off well, but then ended up feeling kind of empty. I wanted to be exploring Elidor and understanding that world, but we barely visit it. We are soon back in Manchester and we never go back. Most of the story is about the children hiding the ‘treasures’ in their suburban back garden and the strange energy they give off which affects the electrics in the house. Not really what I came for. It then ends very abruptly with no real explanation of anything.

There are moments in this story I liked and I warmed to the children and their parents, but it’s all too vague and unfinished. There’s no plot and you’re left with no idea of what or where Elidor is, or what happened there. The children seem to put things right at the end by pure chance, not because of anything that’s been learnt or understood. None of the characters develop during the story, either. You’re just left thinking, ‘Was that it?’

[Emmkay]

Somehow I missed reading Alan Garner as a child, although I was a voracious reader who loved British children’s fantasy, and an only child who loved stories of adventurous groups of siblings. I tried The Owl Service a few years ago and was mystified by it, but thought I’d try Elidor. A group of siblings on their own for the day in Manchester while their family moves house explore a strangely deserted slum neighbourhood that’s being demolished, before falling into the parallel land of Elidor. When they return to ordinary life, aspects of Elidor follow them.

What I liked best was the sense of postwar Manchester and environs and the children’s efforts to grapple with the intrusion of Elidor into ordinary life - the spookiness of blocks of homes destined for demolition, the family gathered for viewing around the strangely misbehaving television, train rides to the suburbs and a bus ride in the city, birds giving a wide berth to a certain patch in the garden. This was somehow more evocative than when Elidor itself is front and centre. The ending was rather abrupt, which I think was the case with The Owl Service too.

[Rosemary Atwell · Rating 3 out of 5]

A wonderful time capsule of a novel that really needs a second read to do justice to the inter textual references throughout. The descriptions of post-war Manchester and its surrounds are brilliant. There’s just something missing - hence looking ahead to those revisits to explore more thoroughly - despite Garner’s skill in powerfully depicting time and place in worlds real and imagined.

[Cliff · Rating 1 out of 5]

I seldom give bad reviews to a book. I assumed that it was because my selection process comes through via recommendations that I trust. But recently, Elidor found its way into my view. I can't honestly remember where it came from...perhaps from an author's discussion.

This book is often mentioned as having to help start the Fantasy genre. And there are comparisons to be made to Narnia. However, I've commented on this before in one of my other reviews...writing has evolved tremendously in the last 50 years, much to the detriment of this novel.

Description...there is practically none (in that aspect, it is in sync with Narnia which is almost non-descriptive as well). Pacing is also non-existent. Characterization...again, none. Obviously, Roland is clearly the protagonist, but the other siblings could have been rewritten as a single character for all the distinct personality they showed. And what absolutely burned me was the LACK of any sort of explanation of why or even what drove these events. When I finished and realized that there was absolutely ZERO denouement, I immediately wanted the hours I spent reading this book back.

At no point did the children DO anything to further the plot. In fact, the majority of the challenge to Roland was convincing his elder siblings to even participate in the events. It's only as events unfold around them that they play any role.

If one wants to see how the early days of fantasy began, I suppose this book may be worth looking into. But storytelling has simply come so much farther since this book was written, there's no way any publisher would have approved this for print in this century.

[Ian Kirkpatrick · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I was nine (back in the dim, distant past that we’ll refer to as 1968) I had a teacher called Mrs McEke. She was a strict disciplinarian but she probably needed to be given that her class was full of little oiks from the local council estate (like me!). Mrs McEke used to spend the last half-hour of every school day reading to us. She loved language and was a wonderful orator, bringing the stories to life through the strength of her vocal delivery.

Given that we were only nine she made some fairly ambitious choices; The Hobbit, The War of the Worlds, The Silver Sword, The Railway Children and even John Wyndham’s The Midwich Cuckoos (definitely left-field). However I will always be indebted to her for choosing to read Alan Garner’s Elidor.

Elidor had only been published in 1965, so at that stage it was a fairly contemporary novel. Although Garner was ostensibly writing for children the book had some very adult themes. It was a brave Mrs McEke that tried to illustrate symbolism to a bunch of largely disinterested nine year olds. However she would probably be delighted to learn that some forty-four years on at least one of her pupils still remembers the symbolic importance of the sword, the spear, the stone and the cauldron.

I was completely entranced by the tale of four children and their rusty relics, which opened a gateway to another world. It seemed like a cool and edgy version of “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” but set in the real world, or at least a world that I could identify with.

We used to have a travelling library van that visited the estate every Monday evening, and I managed to obtain a copy of Elidor and raced through it in advance of Mrs McEke’s reading so that I was always one step ahead of her. Garner’s writing was a revelation to me and he became one of my early heroes as I worked my way through his other books.

Characterisation is not really his strong point as a writer, although his dialogue is an object lesson to any aspiring writer, exploding like little emotional depth charges on the page. As ever with Garner it is the power of myth which is his main fascination.

As an adult I do have a few gripes with the novel which weren’t as apparent to me when I first read it. Overall the tone is cold and distant. There is very little to engage the reader in Elidor’s plight, and therefore very little sense of empathy. The ending seems horribly rushed, almost as if Garner had grown tired of his tale and wanted to finish it up and move on. However these minor gripes aside Elidor will always have a special place in the memories of my childhood.

[Rose A · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful book that absolutely terrified me as a child yet compelled me so much that I read it several times over. It has stuck with me into adulthood and flashes of it come back at odd times. The violinist in the ruined church, the pull of the standing stones, the desolation of Elidor and the absolute terror of the shadowy figures melting through the wall into the real world. Alan Garner is such an underrated writer. I need to read this again!

[ancientreader · Rating 5 out of 5]

Begin with the names. "Elidor" for the dying adjacent world is mellifluous enough. "Malebron" doesn't sound bad, either, though I was struck, at his every appearance, by those first three letters: odd, for a character who never seems less than heroic. But he begins by practicing a frankly creepy deception, so ... ? The place names seemed a mixed bag: Vandwy, Findas, Falias, Murias, Gorias, Mondrum. Murias, Gorias, Mondrum -- clumsy, awkward, off somehow.

Next, the children: Roland, Nicholas, David, and Helen Watson. Of them Roland is the most constant, yet even he lets a year pass with the four Treasures buried in the family's back garden, and meanwhile Elidor, to whose resurrection the Treasures are somehow essential, is presumably drawing closer and closer to being snuffed out. The children argue. Nicholas and David reject the truth of Elidor shortly after their sojourn there; Helen seems to equivocate, or mainly just to want everyone else to shut up. Nicholas especially is quite unkind to Roland at times.

Mr and Mrs Watson, like the parents in many stories for and about children, are kind enough and physically present -- but effectively absent, in that although they're aware of something wrong, they're oblivious to the nature of the threat.

Four children, with a menace from another world literally trying to break down their door: another writer might have treated this as a mere adventure. There would be pluck and banter. With Alan Garner it's all a sinking dread from the earliest moments, when the children find themselves wandering down silent streets among Manchester's bombed-out ruins. And that ending: Elidor is saved, yes, but amid violent bloody death; the last note is one of suffering and grievous loss. At its close the book leaves us standing with the children in a ruined part of our world, with their home perhaps also ruined behind them.

I put spoiler tags there for courtesy's sake, but in no way is this a book to read for its rip-roaring suspense -- though there is suspense, the mood never promises a celebration to come. Like the other books of Garner's I've read so far (Treacle Walker and The Owl Service), Elidor has an undistinguished Goodreads rating -- it's too disturbing and unhappy for anything else. Star ratings make no sense for any number of books, but it's usually easy to pinch my nose shut and deliver one anyway. Elidor gets 5 stars from me mainly because any lower rating makes even less sense than that.

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

From BBC Radio 4 Extra:
Roland, Helen, David and Nicholas Watson have escaped to Manchester to avoid helping out at their house move. After a detour down a creepy backstreet, they come upon a derelict church and a mysterious fiddle player.

Little do the children know that chance didn't bring them there, but a prophecy hundreds of years old. One by one they realise that the church isn't all it seems, as the fabric of time and space opens and they are propelled into the dying and strange world of Elidor...

Episode 2 of 4
With his siblings disappeared into the Mound, King Malebron says only Roland can save them.

Episode 3 of 4
Roland's strong imagination threatens to draw the Evil towards the Treasures.

Episode 4 of 4
Time has run out for the Watsons and Malebron - can Helen help to save Elidor?

Alan Garner's classic fantasy adventure dramatised in four-parts by Don Webb.

Stars Mossie Cassidy as Roland, Raffey Cassidy as Helen, William Rush as Nicholas, Stephen Hoyle as David, Toby Hadoke as Malebron and Fiona Clarke as Mrs Watson.

Original music composed by Ian Williams

Directed at BBC Manchester by Charlotte Riches.

Made for BBC Radio 4 Extra and first broadcast in April 2011.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b010...

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's a case for saying that Alan Garner is the finest children's author of the late 20th century, but that does him a disservice. His books appeal to children and adults alike and Elidor is a fine example of his work. Set in Manchester, this is the story of four children who accidentally stumble into the dying world of Elidor and are set the task of safeguarding the four Treasures of Elidor against the forces of darkness that threaten to overwhelm it. But those forces find a way into our world and the children find themselves in a race to find the mysterious Findhorn, whose song will bring salvation to Elidor.

Garner's skill at building atmosphere is very evident here as the mundane becomes charged with mystery. In a sense this is the opposite of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrode. Garner sets his action very much in this world, and Elidor is, right up until the very end, shown as a world almost destroyed by fear and darkness.

Note to JK Rowling: Read this and see how it's possible to tell a magical, involving story in 20 chapters and 200 pages. You don't need 600 odd pages and if you think you do, you need a good, brave editor to tell you otherwise.

[Mark Redman · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 ⭐️

The Watson children stumble upon a ruined church which contains a portal to another world. The children find they must hold back terrible darkness by fulfilling a prophecy. The world is called Elidor. To save Elidor the children must protect four treasures by returning them to their world. The story then shifts back to the suburbs of Manchester in particular Cheshire.

Although I enjoyed this book, it didn't have the same impact as previous Garner books, Weirdstone, and Stone Book Quartet. The book's weaknesses are a certain flatness of style and the lack of definition and depth of characters. This is counteracted by allusions to the English folklore poem Childe Rowland and Irish mythology in particular the reference to the Tuatha Dé Danann treasures, spear, sword, cauldron and stone. However, this does nothing to remedy the weaknesses of the characters. There is plenty of charm, I only wish I had read this as a young teen!

Elidor was an enjoyable read but on the whole, it left me wishing Garner had put more meat on the story, especially with the characters who seem so one-dimensional as to be almost interchangeable. A Bittersweet read.

[Nigel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I miss my old edition of Elidor but it seems to have vanished along with its wonderful illustrations. Elidor, that strange halfway-house book between Garner's more conventional children's fantasies and his truly powerful, timeshifting work in Owl Service and Red Shift.

Four children find themselves almost randomly in an urban wasteland and pass through to another world. When they return they are carrying four Treasures which must be hidden and protected. As time goes on, the children begin to forget and rationalise their experience, but forces on Elidor are trying to break through, homing in on the Treasures themselves.

Elidor is portal fantasy as ghost story. The book is full of strange phenomena: massive build-us of static electricity, shadows on walls, mysterious figures on the porch and eyes peeking through letterboxes. A message comes through on a spiritualist's planchette. It is spooky and unnerving and haunting in every sense of the word. It is also tight, spare and economical, without a wasted word or scene, and the terrible sacrifice at the end has always stayed with me.

[علی‌رضا میم · Rating 2 out of 5]

یه جورایی ناتمام موند.
انتظار این بود که داستان در جهان اسرارآمیز پیش بره، ولی سعی کرد که شخصیت‌های دنیای الیدور رو به لندن بیاره. این ایده خیلی میتونست خوب و جالب باشه اگه درست اجرا میشد، ولی خیلی ضعیف، خیلی ضعیف...

در حد اینکه مرددم در اینکه کتاب رو نگه‌دارم یا بدمش بره...

[Janelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

I discovered Alan garner in my primary school library. I have always remembered his wonderful books.

[Jayaprakash Satyamurthy]

4 siblings at a loose end on a day their family is shifting home wind up in a dilapidated part of town. The old slums of Manchester are falling to the wrecking ball, and acres of land are home to only rubble as the clearances take place and before new construction begins. They hear strange music and encounter an aged street violinist. They nip into a crumbling old church to retrieve a ball and are seperated. They find themselves in Elidor, but this world is no idyllic fantasy land. It is like a folkloric country of open spaces and castles and standing stones, but plunged in eternal gloom. There is a man who helps the boy Roland unlock the power of his imagination. There are 4 treasures the children must guard, back in their own world: a spear, a sword, a cup, and a stone.
Back home, everything seems normal except the treasures seem like trash yet exert a disturbing force field over electronic gadgets until buried. Their father grows roses over the spot. A year goes by. Then, a seance at a party, shadowy glimpses figures around the rose bush, and strange goings on on the porch bring traces of Elidor back into their lives. Roland's imaginative abilities help plunge them back into the struggle to save Elidor. There is a return to the ruined church, there is a glimpse of some epic, mythic reckoning and... Elidor is granted some kind of chance but there is little sense of triumph for the children.
Imagine something very strange and otherworldly touching your life, nagging away at you, compelling you into some kind of action in a barely understood reckoning of its own...then moving on. That's the the long and short of it.
The mythic references are sometimes recognisable, but mixed in with a world made up for the story, and barely explored or explained. Most of the story takes place in 1960s Manchester. The children are almost ciphers, although we spend so much time with them. Some great change has happened. It's easy to feel bereft or even mystified by the end. But there they are. And there we are. We read the last page and close the book.

[Lia Marcoux · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wish there was one more slot for "quite liked it, didn't REALLY like it, but certainly admired it, possibly more than I liked it". Elidor seems like it will be a conventional story of children saving the day in another world, so when the four siblings returned to their own right away it was a pleasant surprise. The "magic" is pleasingly grounded without being overexplained. The main character, Roland's, desperate persistent belief in the magic in the face of his siblings' attempts to forget leads to convincing feelings of frustration and resentment and to an eenie weenie smidge of doubt. The interactions between the siblings are very strong and there's good atmosphere. In terms of actual action and plot the story is a little slender, but what's there is good.

[Mir · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think I was mistaken and did not actually read this as a child. I'm not positive, though, some of the elements seem familiar...

[Sue Bridgwater · Rating 5 out of 5]

In Elidor, the mythical and legendary sources of the motifs are clear ; the wasteland and the maimed King are from the Grail legend, and the adventure which opens the book is based on the story of Childe Roland.
Garner believes that the force of the magical elements will be stronger if they can be seen to affect events in the objective world. He is aware of the significance of place, of the need to belong, to find the right place, to fit into and to accept oneself. Poignancy is heightened in Garner to a tragic pitch by his protagonists’ ultimate failure to win the battle for self-acceptance and self-control. There is triumph at the end of Elidor, but it is qualified, mitigated by grief.
The book is very much concerned with Roland and his search for identity, meaning and purpose in his life; he agrees to go into the mound of Vandwy to recover the treasures of Elidor for Malebron; but he gets the courage for this from his sense of loyalty to others. His brother and sister are trapped in the mound, and he feels he has no choice but to rescue them. Hence any dedication to the cause of “Good” here is unconscious and bound up in the specific act of rescuing his loved ones. It is only later than Roland begins to conceive of himself as in some way allied with Malebron in the battle between light and dark forces in Elidor. Nevertheless a quest has been undertaken, and in very traditional terms; to go into the Magic place – the place of death, the dark tower, the underworld – and rescue the good that is trapped there. In this quest, Roland is successful. He rescues Helen from the equivalent of Elfland, just as his original in the ballad does. [13]
But this is a beginning, not an end, to Roland’s story. It is no part of tradition for the hero to be followed into his future life in the real world and for the reader to see him struggling with the consequences of his commitment. Garner, in a book written so lucidly as to be accessible to a very young readership, gives us a protagonist who, on completion of his heroic quest, has hardly begun to come to terms with himself, with the negative and destructive side of his psyche, or with his place in the family that is the chief element in his social context. The conflict between good and evil that is happening in Elidor comes back with Roland into the heart of the family.
Here Garner is making greater use of folktale technique than may be immediately obvious. He takes us back to LeGuin’s assertion that Fantasy is about, that its actions take place in, the unconscious mind. [14] On one level of interpretation, Elidor is Roland’s unconscious dimension. Malebron, the maimed King who rules in this wasteland, is the dark side of Roland. He has power, but is crippled. He is ambivalent, the representative of the light or good force in Elidor, yet demanding and manipulative of the children, uncaring of their individual needs. He is expressive of Roland’s own sense of not belonging, of being odd, of being undervalued. (Note that Malebron tells him that here, in Elidor, he, the youngest and the weakest, is the strongest and most significant). This is clear evidence that the land of Elidor and the figure of Malebron are externalisations of the type used in folktale and in High Fantasy, of aspects of Roland. Garner then carries this externalisation over into our dimension. Leaving behind the Otherworld and its King, he next embodies Roland’s disturbed state of mind in the peculiar happenings that take place around him because of the presence in our world of the treasures from Elidor. The burial of the treasure in the garden signifies Roland’s attempts to repress his still unresolved feelings of self-doubt and resentment. The misbehaviour of the electrical objects in the Watson household becomes, according to this reading, a kind of poltergeist manifestation of Roland’s strong repressed emotion. There is a good deal in Roland of the despised youngest son of three, who in fairy tales of the traditional kind would be fated to come out on top in a blaze of glorious self-justification. Less optimistically, Garner shows how Roland’s desperate attempts to make himself important only bring trouble on himself and others. It is even partly true that Elidor is saved in spite of, rather than because of, Roland’s efforts in the second part of the story.
Back in the real world, Roland becomes passionately enamoured of the idea of himself as the champion of Good, the ally of Malebron, dedicated to the salvation of Elidor. He sees himself, as it were, as the hero of a children’s quest story, with a high destiny to fulfil. This runs up against obdurate reality in the face of the other children’s cynicism about or fearful rejection of the otherworld experience. This is part of a pattern in his life;
“’Come off it, Roland. You’re always imagining things.’ That was a family joke.”
It is on this family tradition that the others rely. Nicholas falls back on the idea of mass hallucination, David on coincidence, as explanations of their experience. Helen simply tries to avoid the subject. This rouses Roland in two ways. The best side of him is inspired by the thought that he is the only one loyal to Elidor and the only one who can protect his unheeding family. He performs an act of self-giving love in order to bar the door between Elidor and his home, and so save his family from invasion and attack. At this point he does achieve a high degree of self-awareness and accepts that the existence of this door is his responsibility, that he has a duty to unmake it. Unfortunately, he is not mature enough to be aware of his own mixed motives or the dark impulses in himself. He believes he clings to Elidor for Elidor’s sake; but partly he clings to it for reasons of self-validation, to make himself feel important. And it is the urge to be important in his sibling’s eyes that leads him into an act of hubris parallel with Ged’s in releasing the Shadow. Determined to make the other three see that he is right, he forces them to look at the partial Evil from Elidor. And the four children are trapped into becoming the means by which the men can enter this world.
“ ‘I didn't mean it,’ said Roland. ‘I only wanted to show you – so you’d know.’
Roland has allowed out into his relationships with the world and other people, something from the darkness of his inner self which is destructive and self-seeking.
There has been much discussion of the ending of Elidor. Elidor is gloriously safe; but Findhorn the Unicorn is horribly dead. Does this mean that Roland is irreparably damaged by his experience? Or is Garner has saying that no victory is without its price? At any event, this is undoubtedly a book about the formation of the self-concept and about the changes and developments necessary in the individual if she or he is to cope adequately with relationships and events. To that extent it puts to Roland the traditional question; “What are you like?” Garner’s presentation of a protagonist who cannot face up to this question, is his original and personal use of the traditional framework.

Condensed from my chapter on Garner in https://www.academia.edu/8056988/_I_w...

[Phil · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well, they're certainly not in Narnia. I thought that I'd read this as a kid, but I think it was just always on the shelves and I never got around to it. Reading it for the first time as an adult I was struck by just how dark and dangerous the world of Elidor felt - there are no friendly fawns here or cuddly hobbits, everything is trying to kill you from the landscape to the inhabitants - and the depiction of young Roland's terror as his siblings disappear one by one as they go to fetch the football is still affecting 60 years on.

The Narnia books are the obvious comparison of children moving between realities, but this is very different. The upper working class Manchester world is nicely portrayed and a change from the public school jolly hockey sticks business of C S Lewis's Christian allegory. Unicorns here aren't Jesus substitutes, but wild, untamed frightening and murderous. The effects of the thinning boundaries between our world and Elidor are convincingly shown, as are the reactions of the parents and other adults - being largely dismissal, irritation and downright anger.

Roland, the youngest of the children (ages never specified, but probably about 10 or 11) is left to save the day - he's the one who rescues everyone from Elidor in the first place and later on is the only one who takes the threats seriously and puts himself into great danger to force the hands of his sister and brothers. He is a fine role model for younger readers.

My only criticism is that the ending is a little sudden. But that doesn't detract from how much I enjoyed this after wading through a couple of pretentious high brow books. This was a proper palette cleanser and made me want to read more by Garner.

[Capn · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's a mysterious fiddler, a semi-demolished church, a magical portal into a dead-or-dying fantasy realm, standing stones, and enchanted burial mound full of evil with an entrance only the youngest boy of 4 British siblings can open... this had everything in it to completely grab my attention, and yet it took me a long while to warm to the story. I can't even explain why.

As soon as Roland entered the mound, the story gripped me. There were many aspects I enjoyed: parents present for a good and exciting chunk of the action and not summarily dismissed for the writer's convenience; the eerie shadow men that (at first) may have been damp patches on the plaster (similar apparitions appear in Lively's The Ghost of Thomas Kempe and The Whispering Knights, but I found this version to be much more haunting. If I had read this at the target age, any vaguely human-shaped afterimages on my retina or in the shadows of my bedroom would have kept me awake!); and I loved the inside of the mound and what came out of it and the effect it had.

The setting in post-war Manchester was culturally interesting, and I was happy I could add this to the "Fantasy Books Set at Christmastime list" on Listopia (along with The Dark is Rising (Susan Cooper), and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis), of course!).

The story and ending is a little bittersweet (leaving out spoilers), and I found the slog through the grey mud of decaying Elidor to be a bit laborious and burdensome to read about so early on in the book. But I did very much like the description of crossing-over points into Elidor, and how it fit so well with the post-war recovery, adaptation and remodelling of Manchester, and the uprooted lives of the people there:

"It is not easy to cross from your world into this, but there are places where they touch. The church, and the castle. They were battered by war, and now all the land around quakes with destruction. They have been shaken loose in their worlds"... "The finding is chance. Wasteland and boundaries: places that are neither one thing nor the other, neither here nor there - these are the gates of Elidor."

I liked the sense of loss and sacrifice, though I did find the ending awfully tragic (but not wholly unexpected).

***Mild spoilers follow from here***

I did have some trouble with the warriors, though. Malebron is armed, and the outlandish monsters in Elidor are spawned from the imaginations of the children. So when men from Elidor appear, I didn't immediately jump to the conclusion that they were the enemy - it occurred to me that they could also be emissaries of Malebron. And I am still not certain whose 'side' they were on, because when their objective is attained, they bring about what Malebron was seeking anyway (maybe he had figured out the riddle and sent them?). Still, I would have preferred some more dialogue on this point - as the memory of Elidor fades away (or is actively repressed, depending on the sibling), it seemed a bit odd to me that the men at the door would automatically be adversaries. Especially as it was established in multiple instances that time passed much more rapidy in Elidor than in Manchester.

I saw that someone added this book to a time travel list (incorrectly, I feel). I know WHY they did so - it's the unicorn jug that is unearthed in the garden, suggesting it was left there as a clue for the future Watson family to find. I just don't think it's as simple as that, though Garner never explains its placement or presence adequately.

My usual Alan Garner complaint applies to Elidor as it does to virtually all his other novels (possibly excluding The Owl Service and Boneland, but then again, maybe not): it's too short. Every scene, every chapter, every story is concise. It's like being served a single spoonful of the most delicious dessert - I want more!

I am middle aged, not middle-grade, so perhaps it's simply a function of maturity and increased attention span that leaves me unsatisfied: the brevity would probably have been very appealing to 12 year old me.

I recommend this book to any youngest child with frustratingly practical and more physically capable older siblings (I hope it's not a spoiler to say that the older ones all behave as Susan does in the later Narnia books, to varying extents), especially at Christmastime or just before, and it would likely appeal to a male child more than a female one, but I know that this is a big assumption (I myself am an exception - never had a problem with reading stories with protagonists of another gender, as it never prevented me from imagining myself in the same cirumstances anyway). :) I would not give this book to a unicorn-loving child, however.

Some warnings about the text: old technology features (which predates even me - I don't think I've ever seen a transistor radio, and though I do remember the cathode-ray tube televisions, I doubt I ever encountered one that ancient with tuning notes, or knobs that adjust contrast and 'vertical hold'). I found it all so well-described as to be interesting though, and also from a cultural content. "What's on tonight?", "The circus, a play, and then ice skating". The whole family watches together. That was IT for choice. Modern kids might be both amazed and horrified by this alone! :D

The other caveat is language (and I don't mean rude words that some people get all bent out of shape over...): "You great steaming chudd!" (Is this a wad of used chewing gum?! From 'chuddy', or...?), 'Ruddy Micks', and the like. Not a tonne of inaccessible Mancunian (and Irish) slang, but some. I would hope most readers wouldn't give it even a second thought, but I mention it just in case it irks. I personally found it charming.

TL,DR: Too short, some great fantasy imagery, youngest child is hero.

[WhatShouldIRead · Rating 2 out of 5]

While I enjoyed another Alan Garner book I didn't so much this one. Granted some of it was pretty creepy but also it was confusing. The children go to this alternate realm, described in this vague way, were given some items that a wizard wanted gone so the kingdom can survive, but towards the end the children then returned the items and all was saved. Sorry, didn't get the purpose of this at all.

It sounded like an interesting idea but ultimately I found this just OK, mainly because of the kids working together and the creepy feel of some of it. The rest of the story was just meh to me.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

“‘The darkness grew,’ said Malebron. ‘It is always there. We did not watch, and the power of night closed on Elidor. We had so much of ease that we did not mark the signs — a crop blighted, a spring failed, a man killed. Then it was too late — war, and siege, and betrayal, and the dying of the light.'”

Much of the fantasy written for children in the sixties and seventies by British writers – Penelope Farmer, Susan Cooper, Alan Garner, Joan Aiken and Catherine Storr among others – was dark, with precious little light relief.

Even while there was a hope-filled resurgence and confidence in popular music, fashion and the like the postwar legacy of bombed sites and slum clearance combined with the uncertainties of the Cold War seemed to evoke a response in children’s literature somewhat akin to that met with in adult kitchen sink drama.

Alan Garner’s early novels, beginning with <>The Weirdstone of Brisingamen<> (1960), <>The Moon of Gomrath<> (1963) and then <>Elidor<> in 1965, all carry this mood of melancholy and menace, the sense of an imminent loss encapsulated in the phrase made familiar by Dylan Thomas, “the dying of the light”, and cited here by the mysterious figure of Malebron.

And the Darkness shall not fade
Unless there is heard the Song of Findhorn
Who walks in the High Places.

‘Thursday’s child has far to go’ runs the folk rhyme, and here that child is Roland Watson, whose journey starts in Manchester’s Thursday Street (now effectively New Allen Street, just off the Oldham Road). Young Roland is the youngest sibling, following after Nicholas, David and Helen. It’s the run-up to Christmas and the bored quartet let loose in the city go exploring at Roland’s suggestion, arriving at a church amidst postwar demolition.

Though momentarily distracted by a blind fiddler’s playing they attempt a kick-around, but when the football gets lost they go one by one round the back of the church to search for an entrance to retrieve the ball, leaving Roland last. When I first read Elidor in the seventies I immediately recognised several folklore motifs: the story of Childe Rowland and Burd Helen, the wasteland from Arthurian legends, the name Elidor purloined from a medieval Welsh tale, the lone fiddler whose tune presaged a magical dance, and the tradition of ‘clipping the church’ where parishioners held hands and danced, encircling the building. (I remember in the seventies seeing a Victorian painting of this latter practice in Rode church near Bath.)

Though we’re not explicitly told which way round the church the children explore, in the folktale the characters go anticlockwise or widdershins, their first mistake, for this is how they find they’ve entered a sinister fairyland. There are castles and warriors in the wasteland of Elidor, one shining corner of which is left, the stronghold of the king of this Elfland, Malebron, whose name echoes a king in the grail legends.

So is Elidor merely – as it superficially seems to be – a high fantasy for children which has been patched together from names and elements stolen from myth, legends, folktale and fairytale? No, because the reader doesn’t have to be aware of ancient resonances in order to be drawn into a tale where danger seeps into the modern world, where children are faced with making life-changing decisions, and where the everyday is charged with greater significance than imagined. As Malebron tells the Watson siblings, “Our worlds are different, but they are linked in subtle ways, and the death of Elidor would not be without its echo in your world.” Elidor turns out to be the world of the imagination, freighted with all the dire consequences should that imagination ever be curtailed or snuffed out.

In a 1983 lecture, ‘The Edge of the Ceiling’, Garner describes how his wife Griselda Greaves epitomised children’s authors from the late fifties to the late sixties as writers of a Golden Age who “were children during the Second World War: a war waged against civilians,” during which “daily life was lived on a mythic plane.” How so? It was a time “of absolute Good against absolute Evil; of the need to endure, to survive whatever had to be overcome, to be tempered in whatever furnace was required. These are spiritual, moral and philosophical issues, and, therefore, bound to have an effect on the psyche of childhood at that time.”

As a result, the argument goes, their books “were written on profound themes, and were literature.” That sense of living on a mythic plane percolates through, indeed permeates, the novel: echoes of Four Treasures from Irish myth and the mysteries of the prehistoric mound at New Grange in Ireland aren’t bolt-ons, they’re characteristic of deep mythic thinking that consciously or not informs the lives and philosophy of most individuals.

In another lecture from 1975, ‘Inner Time’, also included in the 1997 collection The Voice that Thunders but which I read elsewhere in the late 70s, Garner emphasises how for him the vast reservoir of story which we now designate as fantasy, and which draws heavily from oral traditions, has what he sees as relevancy. This is evident in the chantefable known as ‘Childe Roland and Burd Helen’ which kicked off Garner’s narrative: ‘The fragmentary northern ballad […] was given its relevancy in the slums of Manchester. By “relevancy” I mean that the myth chooses the form for its clearest expression at any given moment.’

The final mythic motif that Garner includes as being full of relevance in the ‘form’ which comprises Elidor is that of the maiden and the unicorn. Findhorn is the name of this fearsome beast, its flowing mane echoing the Scottish river from which it presumably takes its name, a horned creature who will only submit to a matchless (that is, unwed) maiden. With its allusions to Scotland adding to Wales, Ireland and northeast England the novel may include all the island’s nations, but it’ll be the intrinsic qualities of the traditions Garner pours into his story – innocence, courage, insightfulness, healing, steadfastness – that constitute the backbone of Elidor.

If you’re looking for whimsy or humour here you will be disappointed; Garner’s fiction, whether set in the ‘real’ world or the shadow world, is deadly serious. It’s a narrative about living on or by thresholds: a dolmen portal, a porch door, New Year’s Eve, a bridge over a chasm, the transition from sleep to wakefulness. One doesn’t really need to have lived during the Second World War to recognise that Elidor can have relevance right here, right now: it’s certainly not without its echoes.

And if the ending seems rather abrupt it dutifully corresponds to the formulaic and often sudden endings of traditional oral tales and rhymes and folk ballads from which the story takes its inspiration: “And now my story’s done.”

[Jed Mayer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Minor Garner, but notable for its urban/suburban settings. A thoughtful update on the Narnia motif, with a boldly bleak ending subversive of the escapist fantasy tradition.

[Charlotte · Rating 5 out of 5]

just IMAGINE having the audacity to write and publish a children’s book that ends like this

[Sara Aye Moung · Rating 5 out of 5]

A reread of a book by one of my favourite childhood authors. Beautiful, exciting, scary as I remember.