DNF @ 64%
Side Note: For those particularly poetic and romantic souls out there, this one’s for you.
This hurts, Cabrones! The only other book I’ve ever DNF’d was a pregnancy manual that I was gently coerced into reading. I know how to give birth just fine on my own, thank you very much! I’m a resilient reader, see? I can handle some garbage, I can wade through a great deal of horseshit but this book nearly put me into a reading slump, another thing that never happens to me, except for the last one which lasted 10 years (I don’t do things in halves). Nevertheless, this book is far from horrible and also has historical importance so I feel compelled to offer a short review due to the seemingly unknown nature of the story and the scarcity of information regarding the tale and it’s author.
Phantasmion (1837), written by Sara Coleridge on her sick bed (a trend at the time) has been referred to as ”The First Fantasy Novel in the English Language. While I haven’t the expertise to comment on the accuracy of that description, it seems cause enough for further interest than it currently garners, the lack of which, I presume, is a result of the fact that it was written by a woman during the early Victorian period, an era in which women still faced adverse inequality and “Fantasy” (Fairy-Tale) was a genre reserved for Children. In my opinion, it’s a hybrid of Fantasy and Fairy-Tale, it is a Long Fairy-Tale (too long) with elements that would later become prevalent in the Fantasy genre.
I was reading this as part of a ‘Pre-Tolkien Fantasy’ list that I crumbed together. It’s the first (the earliest) on the list and I was really hoping to have found a hidden gem here. Alas, in the end it has concluded in an unfortunate battle of attrition.
There is War between Kingdoms, sinister plots, assassinations, Witches/Enchantress’, Spirits good and bad, Enchanted Weapons/Armour and Magic Vessels but all of this is background noise to what is, essentially, a whimsical fairy-tale Romance. A story that demonstrates the intensity and selfishness of young love and the anguish and grief that so often accompanies a lack of reciprocity of such love.
Those who enjoy a poet’s eye for detail and a slightly melodramatic tone with Periwinkle (definitely heavier than lilac but not quite purple) Prose will enjoy this one. Written in an Early-Victorian English, it’s sprinkled throughout with beautiful descriptions of environments that imbue the landscape with a consciousness all of its own. Those who don’t will lament the excessive amount of embellishment and endless multitudes of descriptive poetry and, like me, probably drift off and start thinking about the hundreds of other highly-anticipated reads on their TBRs.
The edition I read had a lot of typographical errors, even taking into account that it looks like a lot of the names were dropped in after the rest of the tale was written. The same error often occurs dozens of times as if the mistake was made and then copied and pasted throughout the rest of the book. Lastly, I found the use of the word “ejaculated” in exchange for “exclaimed” an interesting choice but on further investigation, it is just one of those hilarious (to an immature jackass like myself) by-products of the Evolution of the English language.
”Why hast thou chosen to conceal from a brother chief thy rank and dignity?”
“A brother chief!” ejaculated the captive…
I mean, I guess he really, REALLY likes Brother Chiefs!