This is a book that can only be described as extremely dull. It seems to drag on and on, with only one or two chapters that manage to stand out and hold any real interest. The rest of the content feels flat and unengaging, as if the author was simply going through the motions. It's a real disappointment, especially when you consider the potential that the subject matter may have had. You find yourself constantly flipping through the pages, hoping for something more exciting to come along, but it rarely does. The one or two good chapters are like little oases in a vast desert of boredom. They offer a glimmer of hope, but it's not enough to save the overall experience of reading this book.

I’ve read E. R. Eddison’s The Worm Ouroboros several times over the last fifty or so years.

Back in the early 1970s, those of us who read Tolkien and craved other epic fantasy novels had only a limited selection from the Ballantine Adult Fantasy line to turn to, and the Worm was at the top of that list. However, I never got around to exploring Eddison’s other works. I flipped through them and read snippets, but they were clearly very different from the Worm and not what I was seeking at that time.

But after all these years, I’ve returned to Eddison, starting with the first of his Zimiamvia trilogy.

This is a peculiar and challenging book to evaluate. Much of it is an excellent tale of political intrigue and war within an imagined secondary world. After a brief prologue, seemingly set in our world, the main story commences. King Mezentius has passed away, leaving the throne to a young heir who is then killed. He has bequeathed the throne to Queen Antiope, with Horius Parry, the Vicar of Rerek, as regent. Parry is a great villain: hot-tempered, dishonorable, and willing to do whatever it takes to secure power. He is assisted by his far more honorable cousin, Edward Lessingham. As a war captain, Lessingham fights for Parry but also attempts to broker an honorable peace between the warring factions. However, this peace keeps failing as Parry never honors the agreed-upon terms. And in the midst of all this, there are significant romances, including one between Lessingham and Queen Antiope.

If this were all the novel had to offer, it would be straightforward to judge. But it isn’t. Throughout the novel, there are interludes with the philosopher Doctor Vandermast, and at times, the characters seem to interact with each other and Vandermast, either in reality or in a dream state (it’s not always clear). There are indications (perhaps that’s too strong a word) that the characters may all be aspects of one another or of the Goddess Aphrodite and other supernatural figures. It’s all very strange and murky, and in at least one part of the novel, things grind to a halt for a long chapter as characters from different storylines meet at Vandermast’s. I read through that section twice, but I’m still not entirely sure what was happening there.

In the end, I’m uncertain whether these strange fantasy elements are essential and if I need to reread this to understand how it all fits together, or if the book would have been better off without them. This is another one that I need to think about more deeply.

This is not in fact part of the "Worm Cycle".

It stands largely apart from Worm as the first volume of the Zimiamvia trilogy, which also includes A Fish Dinner in Memison and the Mezentian Gate.

The trilogy nominally takes place in the universe of Worm, but the only links are a distant sighting of Zimiamvia from a mountaintop and the presence of Lessingham as the main character, who appeared in about ten pages of Worm.

The prose in MoM (and presumably the other two) is much easier reading than that of Worm. It emulates the writing of roughly a century after Worm's epic balladry.

This still makes it a slog sometimes as the reader has to decode antique language, but it is less of a slog than Worm, which is something.

And the language is still beautiful, especially when Eddison gets into describing starfields and still waters.

The plot is standard Eddison fare. There are mighty admirable men engaged in political subterfuge in a basic fantasy world, interspersed with mighty battles.

Thankfully, the battles are less frequent this time around because they let slip Eddison's questionable personal beliefs.

The characters this time around have moderately more subtlety to them than the rather one-note Juss and company, but there is no one to hold a candle to Gro.

Overall, while MoM has its flaws, it is still an enjoyable read for fans of Eddison's work and those who appreciate a good fantasy adventure.

This was an extremely tough read.

It took me a rather long while to get through it.

While the prose was beautiful on certain occasions, more often than not, it was so dense and convoluted that I had to reread entire chapters.

Ultimately, the only feasible way I could get through it was by reading it out loud and consciously slowing down my pace.

I must admit that I have saved some really beautiful passages.

There was truly a masterful use of the language.

I have to give credit where it is due.

But at the same time, there are pages with only 2 - 3 sentences, and each sentence has 3 uses of colons, made-up words, and completely ridiculous grammar.

This is definitely not a novel for the faint of heart.

Now that I have expressed my thoughts, the plot was simple yet good.

It involved betrayal, a love triangle, and finally an epic battle.

There was intrigue, although this was somewhat hindered by the language.

Eddison has been compared to Tolkien in terms of creating language and a universe.

I'm not entirely sure I would concur.

However, there are far more resources available about Tolkien's work than there are about E.R. Eddison.

I struggled to find any kind of analysis, review, or summary of this work.

I will admit that I have only read two novels by Eddison, which limits my own perspective.

Nevertheless, I do think this book is worth the time.

However, I would recommend a reading group or book club.

Having others to talk to about what is happening and to keep the reader accountable would have enhanced my experience.

Putting this again as a troll with a private profile commented on my original, and I don't want their dumb comments there. DeBodard may have improved in her writing these days, but her shoddy "appropriation" here remains shoddy. I still remember her from her LiveJournal days and who she really is. Honestly, it wouldn't bother me this much if she wasn't so full of herself while getting the Aztec/Mexica culture wrong. Not to mention, this book is still terribly written.

Also, I can't help but side-eye those people who claim that the names are "hard to pronounce" when I learned them in sixth grade. But hey, that's white people for you. They make fun of our language but use it when it suits them to "spice" up their mediocre books. I know the author isn't white; I'm talking about some of the reviewers here. So, this isn't really the author's fault, but it does make me think that people only see the actual culture as something "exotic" (people are even calling it "nonwestern," which makes me laugh) instead of the real-life breathing people who were colonized by the Spaniards and lost their culture to them.

Read something actually written by Mexican people. Read an actual textbook and don't take the stuff in this book seriously (it couldn't even get Aztec education right!). Thanks.

How do I review this when I feel it might be two more reads before I truly can?

I will start by saying that you probably shouldn't read this. When you see the words "fantasy masterpiece", you might think, "Oh hey, this is probably a fun little quest tale." Or perhaps you might expect the writing to be juvenile and simple, like that of modern fantasy. However, this is hard reading for the spoon-fed contemporary reader, and even harder for the contemporary fantasy reader. But make no mistake, it is so good.

At this stage, I will boldly boast that this is a far greater work than Eddison's earlier The Worm Ouroboros. While the latter is a better starting point and a landmark of fantasy, Mistress of Mistresses is an entirely different beast.

Part court intrigue, part knight romance, part Victorian, part Medieval, with elements of Norse and Greek mythology, you'll find Plato and Icelandic sagas all rolled into one. Eddison's work is wildly unique, defying easy categorization and demanding the full attention and effort of the reader. It is a literary gem that rewards multiple readings and careful study.

I truly adored The Worm Ourobouros. However, when it came to this particular work, I simply couldn't engage with it.

It appears to be a profound meditation on Aphrodite, yet it is so hazy and indistinct that it's extremely difficult to grasp.

All the women in the story seem to be shape-shifters, adding an element of mystery and fluidity.

There is an interesting protagonist, for which I award one star. Nevertheless, we never truly manage to get beneath his skin to understand his thoughts or determine whose side he is on.

Another star is given for the gorgeous prose. This book is best read slowly, savoring every word. Don't even attempt to skim through it, as you would miss the beauty and depth of the language.

Overall, while there are some redeeming qualities, this book didn't quite hit the mark for me as The Worm Ourobouros did.

Lord Lessinghame is truly a man among men.

He possesses qualities and characteristics that set him apart from the ordinary.

I have a suspicion that this particular book would have been a great favorite of Don Quixote.

However, for me, the situation is quite different.

My feelings towards it are not as strong as I imagine Don Quixote's would have been.

Perhaps it is because our perspectives and interests vary.

While Don Quixote might have been enthralled by the adventures and exploits of Lord Lessinghame,

I find myself less engaged.

Nonetheless, I can still appreciate the qualities that make Lord Lessinghame the remarkable man he is.

And who knows, maybe with further exploration, I will come to understand and enjoy this book more.

For now, though, my initial reaction is one of mild interest rather than passionate enthusiasm.

‘When I kiss you, it is as if a lioness sucked my tongue’
OR
A Renaissance Game of Thrones Featuring Four Eternal Lovers and a Bestial Machiavel

After an odd “Overture” where the narrator attends the funeral of his great friend Lessingham in our world, E. R. Eddison’s Mistress of Mistresses (1935) transports us to the Renaissance fantasy world of Zimiamvia. Here, Lessingham is alive and twenty-five, serving as the cousin and troubleshooter of Horius Parry, the brutish yet noble Vicar. The Vicar, a Machiavellian figure, desires to rule the land as Regent for the new eighteen-year-old Queen Antiope, following the recent assassination of her brother, the King (with rumors suggesting the Vicar’s hand in the poisoning).

Due to the dissatisfaction of the dead king’s bastard half-brother, Duke Barganax (whose hobby is painting his lover Fiorinda and then destroying the paintings), and his allies with the duplicitous Vicar’s rule, war breaks out, with both sides claiming to support the Queen. Against the odds, Lessingham wins a significant battle and attempts to impose peace on the stubborn Duke and the enraged Vicar. He then heads north to the court of Queen Antiope in Rialmar to strengthen her defenses against the realm’s perennial enemy, Akkama, ruled by the loathsome King Derxis.

The story is filled with questions. Will the Vicar accept the peace? What will the Duke and Lessingham do if the Vicar starts scheming again? What will occur when the consummate courtier and captain Lessingham meets the beautiful and clever Queen Antiope? And what dastardly deeds will Derxis, who has been persistently wooing Antiope, perform? Additionally, why does the old “logical doctor” Vandermast tell Lessingham he’ll be dead within a year or two?

The basic plot resembles a compact Game of Thrones, but with far fewer players, more metaphysics and romance, and no dragons or undead. However, the novel’s charms and fascinations do not lie solely in the plot. They largely stem from Eddison’s splendid and ornate style, painterly descriptions, epic similes, dry humor, and love for nature, architecture, music, poetry, beauty, and love. The characters’ speech is occasionally laced with Greek or Latin quotations, which they fortunately often translate.

Eddison’s “Elizabethan” prose is delicious, as seen in lines like “The horror and ugsomeness of death is worse than death itself.” He also writes great similes, such as “Only there sat in his eyes a private sunbeamed look, as if he smiled in himself to see, like a sculptor, the thing shape itself as he had meant and imagined.” The battles and duels lack magic and the supernatural, being man against man with armor, weapons, numbers, and tactics. However, the novel does introduce fantastic elements like immortal shape-changing Hamadryads, a time-free garden and cottage, a leaf to open any locked door, and the two pairs of lovers, Barganax-Fiorinda and Lessingham-Antiope, who are vibrant, distinct individuals that sometimes merge into each other.

The main characters are larger than life archetypes, Eternal Lovers prefiguring Michael Moorcock’s later Eternal Champion. Lessingham dies in our world but lives vividly in Zimiamvia, and the novel closes with Fiorinda, the Mistress of Mistresses, reflecting on her female identities. Although the novel features heroic violent action and life wisdom, it is not as action-packed as Eddison’s more famous epic fantasy, The Worm Ouroboros. Mistress of Mistresses has a lot of conversation and description, and the ending feels rushed and incomplete, but it offers moments of great beauty and wonder, like the ones quoted above.

Eddison was an English civil servant?!

This is an extremely complicated piece of writing.

It is so convoluted that one can easily get lost in its intricate details.

As a result, one often has to re-read certain parts in an attempt to understand it correctly.

However, despite its complexity, I must admit that I did find a certain enjoyment in it.

Nevertheless, it didn't quite reach the level of enjoyment that I experienced with the Worm Ouroboros.

The Worm Ouroboros had a unique charm and allure that this piece couldn't quite match.

Perhaps it was the more engaging narrative or the more vivid imagery that made the Worm Ouroboros so much more enjoyable.

Nonetheless, this piece still had its merits and was worth the effort of reading and trying to understand.

It just goes to show that sometimes, even the most complicated of works can have something to offer.

This is a review of the complete series in Zimiamvia: A Trilogy.

The trilogy takes readers on an epic adventure through a fictional world filled with unique characters and complex storylines.

E.R. Eddison's writing style is rich and detailed, painting a vivid picture of the landscapes, cultures, and politics of Zimiamvia.

The characters are well-developed, each with their own motives, desires, and flaws.

The storylines are engaging and full of twists and turns, keeping readers on the edge of their seats from beginning to end.

Overall, Zimiamvia: A Trilogy is a must-read for fans of epic fantasy.

The statement "it's like the worm ouroboros but not as good" presents an interesting comparison. The ouroboros is a powerful and symbolic image, often representing cyclicality, eternity, and the unity of opposites.

However, when something is said to be like the ouroboros but not as good, it implies that there are certain aspects or qualities that fall short. It could suggest that while there may be some similarities in form or concept, the thing in question lacks the depth, significance, or perfection of the ouroboros.

Perhaps it doesn't fully capture the essence of cyclicality or fails to convey the profound meaning associated with the symbol. It might also imply that there are flaws or limitations that prevent it from achieving the same level of excellence or impact.

Overall, this comparison serves to highlight the relative inferiority of the thing being described in relation to the ouroboros, while still acknowledging some degree of resemblance.