I'm not sure exactly how I missed reading this one. I know someone gave me a copy as a preteen but I never got to reading it, which shames me now - this work, by a fellow "Inkling" of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, E.R. Eddison, is fantasy modeled somewhat on the style of Norse sagas, but full of Classical diction (and gods), written in a semi-Elizebethan English, and with a unique set of protagonists (Demons, Goblins, Imps, and such). I have no basis for comparison; it stands alone. All i can say is that I recommend it to fans of early 20th century fantasy (Eddison is technically pre-Tolkien, and has somewhat in common with Lovecraft's fantasy - but his style of writing is wholly unique).

DNF

I picked this up more out of curiosity than anything else and I strongly suspected that I would not finish it. This is the book that inspired Tolkien. It is a mishmash of mythologies and oral traditions from western cannon all crammed together into the worlds first fantasy story. It takes a minute to get used to the language used.

If you have read Tolkien or are familiar with any kind of epic poetry you know what is going to happen in this story. You know the characters.

There is nothing particularly wrong with this story. At the same time there is nothing that particularly stands out about it. There is a reason Tolkien remains in our cultural memory whereas Eddison has faded away. I may have even enjoyed it if I wasn't already thoroughly bored with European inspired fantasy stories.

First off, I want to caution you against making the mistake I did. This is not a book to be stuck in your purse and picked up now and then, when you're waiting for the dentist or for your tires to be rotated or for your friends to show up at the bar. The story is long and complex and the characters are numerous, varied, and some of them have very similar names, which can get confusing if you're only dipping into it now and again.

One of the blurbs on my copy said it was like Tolkien and it is not, really, even a little bit like Tolkien. It's much more Shakespearean or like the Iliad, with big ranging battles and intrigues and quiet small moments. The language is highfalutin but delightful in its ponderousness.

It's also definitely a product of its time (1922), so it's before much of the world got tired of war. It's also got some pretty glaring (racist) stereotypes, though it's not as bad as some, just keep an eye on it.

I will say that the element I was most delighted by was the first forty pages or so, where some traveler from Earth astral projects to Mercury to see what's going on there and IS NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN. I thought maybe he'd come back in the end, going home to bed and saying "Man, that sure was an awesome epic I just witnessed" but, nope, no dice.

This book is brilliant, a literary feast that makes modern works seem wanting in their command of the English language. It is written in Jacobian english and is highly stylized, requiring modern readers to have a dictionary handy to be able to follow Eddison's wide-ranging and archaic vocabulary. But those who make the effort will uncover a story rich in heroism, epic characters, and events.

I did find the ending somewhat disappointing, but it is true to the kind of fatal heroic worldview of the characters. However, it is easily seen that this circular structure of fighting battles for the honor one will receive ultimately either diminishes the heroes of the book or shows that the honor and goodness which the heroes display throughout the story is incongruous with this claimed love of battle for its own sake. And the ending also rings hollow against the idyllic state of peace which the heroes seem content to enjoy at the beginning of the book. But, even though the final twist of the ending somewhat diminishes the character of the heroes, the book itself is a fantastic journey which is both rich and original.

Why read The Worm Ouroboros?

Two reasons, chiefly. The first is that it’s fun; the second is that it’s a pleasure to read something whose author is so obviously in love with the English language, reveling in its intricacies.

To the first reason, if you’re looking for strong, character-driven plots or philosophical ruminations on Man’s condition, look elsewhere. Ouroboros is a celebration of the most pagan warrior virtues of the Western tradition. The basic story is the epic war between Demonland (the “good guys”), ruled by the brothers Juss, Spitfire and Goldry Bluszco, and Witchland (the “bad guys”), ruled by the deliciously wicked Gorice XII. Despite comparisons to Tolkien’s Middle Earth, Eddison’s ethos derives from Homer and the Norse Sagas stripped of their Christian veneer. Our heroes and our villains both are mighty and valiant fighters; and their women are uniformly fair. What sets the Demons and their allies apart is their sense of honor and a barbaric chivalry.

To the second reason: Eddison obviously loves English, most particularly Elizabethan English. Perhaps it’s because I have been reading and watching a lot of Shakespeare these last few months and my brain is more apt to translation than otherwise but I could wish our modern authors were as conscious and as careful and as exuberant in their prose as Eddison. An example taken entirely at random:

n  “Therewith he looked on the Demons, and there was that in his eyes that stayed their speech.

In a while he spake again, saying, `I sware unto you my furtherance if I prevailed. But now is mine army passed away as wax wasteth before the fire, and I wait the dark ferryman who tarrieth for no man. Yet, since never have I wrote mine obligations in sandy but in marble memories, and since victory is mine, receive these gifts: and first thou, O Brandoch Daha, my sword, since before thou wast of years eighteen thou wast accounted the mightiest among men-at-arms. Mightily may it avail thee, as me in time gone by. And unto thee, O Spitfire, I give this cloak. Old it is, yet may it stand thee in good stead, since this virtue it hath that he who weareth it shall not fall live into the hand of his enemies. Wear it for my sake. But unto thee, O Juss, give I no gift, for rich thou art of all good gifts: only my good will give I unto thee, ere earth gape for me’”n

(p. 161).

And this is the tenor for the next 400 pages. Despite that, the prose is very readable and if you can make it past the first chapter or two, the reading is worth the effort. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t want to encounter Elizabethan-style prose in every book I read but one of the things I don’t like about a lot of what passes for literature out there is the dull, turgid writing that ignores English’s rhythms, has its characters talk like denizens of the 21st century, and refuses to push the envelope in what English is capable of.

A third reason I enjoyed The Worm Ouroboros peculiar to myself is Eddison’s ear for names. Sometimes, he produces a real clunker like “Goldry Bluszco” but, on the whole, his instincts are true and when he names a character or a place it “feels” right – Gorice; Corsus, Corund & Corinius (Gorice’s chief generals); Lord Juss; Krothering Keep; Morna Moruna; Lady Mevrian; Carce; and so on.

The gods know I wouldn’t want to live in a world of Demons and Witches but I had a lot of fun vacationing there.

n  So strong in properties of ill is this serpent which the ancient Enemy that dwelleth in darkness hath placed upon this earth, to be a bane unto the children of men, but an instrument of might in the hand of enchanters and sorcerers.n

A messenger arrives at Krothering Castle with a demand to the gathered lords of Demonland from the king of Witchland. They are to come to his court at Carcë and swear him fealty as his loyal subjects, or he will enforce his demands by force of arms. Thus begins a grand tale of war that inspired several gargantuan fantasy epics.

E. R. Eddison has now been largely forgotten by the world of fantasy writing, but he remains back there in the shadows as another of the founding fathers of the modern genre. He inspired Tolkien and Lewis (and even attended meetings of the Inklings) and a whole bunch of others. And while this book unfortunately is horribly dated, even for a lover of the archaic like myself, there are plenty of examples of sentences and plot points where Eddison remains an important source of inspiration.

Part of The Worm Ouroboros is a mess. The frame story serves no purpose; the plot, while often interesting, is poorly organised; and the setting is unremarkable. I must admit to some annoyance at the naming practices (Demonland, Witchland, Impland, Goblinland etc.), but I learnt to get used to it eventually.

I am always a fan of flowery writing, and it has the potential to make me instantly fall in love with a story. However, I personally found the general writing style of E. R. Eddison to be tediously boring, with little of the grace and eloquence found in the works of authors he has inspired. On the other hand, Eddison has one big strength when it comes to the writing, and that is that many of his descriptions are positively gorgeous. Like dark Carcë, capital of Witchland…

Dismal and fearsome to view was this strong place of Carcë, most like to the embodied soul of dreadful night brooding on the waters of that sluggish river: by day a shadow in broad sunshine, the likeness of pitiless violence sitting in the place of power, darkening the desolation of the mournful fen; by night, a blackness more black than night herself.

Actually, the entirety of Chapter 4 (Conjuring in the Iron Tower) was absodamnlutely amazing. Which explains why all the quotes in this review can be found in that chapter. Which, unfortunately, also says something about the rest of the book.

That should prove that I can actually say something positive too. And beyond my complaints, I am happy to have read this classic. It is a dated, flawed book, but it is enjoyable in its own way. It is one of the first examples of modern fantasy, and of moving away from the land of fairytales and into the territory of grand stories on an epic scale.

I would also like to give it extra praise for this last quote, which reminded me why I feel so strongly about fantasy…

”And for thirty days and thirty nights wandered I alone on the face of the Moruna in Upper Impland, where scarce a living soul hath been: and there the evil wights that people the air of that desert dogged my steps and gibbered at me in darkness. Yet was I unafraid; and came in due time to Morna Moruna, and thence, standing on the lip of the escarpment as it were on the edge of the world, looked southaway where never mortal eye had gazed aforetime, across the untrodden forests of the Bhavinan. And in that skyey distance, pre-eminent beyond range on range of ice-robed mountains, I beheld two peaks throned for ever between firm land and heaven in unearthly loveliness: the spires and airy ridges of Koshtra Pivrarcha, and the wild precipices that soar upward from the abysses to the queenly silent snow-dome of Koshtra Belorn."

I was listening to the audiobook version and reading the E-book version at the same time. I think just listened to the audiobook of this book that was too challenging. Also It was a chance to have the experience of reading and listening to it. After all, The Worm of Ouroboros is deliberately used archaic writing style. Nowadays, Not many writers are able to write like that.

The Worm of the Ouroboros is a classic fantasy book which had the influential impact on Tolkien and fantasy genres. The chapter 4, the Iron Tower has the scene that the king was using magic by the Grimoire. That scene would be easily reminisced of Saruman casting spells in TLoR book. It is one of the book I wanted to read in English when I was reading books in English first time. I think now I am satisfied by finishing reading it, as it should be the first 100 books to be read in English for me. What can I say, too many fantasy books need to be read. To be frank, I think modern fantasy writers’s writing might not be able to satisfied my taste of reading. I want unique, special and powerful writing. It is not necessary to write purple proses or flowery writing, but it must be competent at constructing sentences and creating images in reader’s mind. In Worm of Ouroboros, E.D Eddision has done it and shows to readers that his writing is stylish in quaint proses. His writing definitely is above average fantasy authors I think also is above many authors in other genres as well. But sometimes I think his verses might be too archaic to be appropriate. Nowadays people think funny things are not like speaking in archaic style speech.

The reading experience definitely is novel to me to immerse in this book with epic battles between witch lords and demon lords. I can feel the writing somehow resonates my soul at some specific paragraphs. The summoning in the Iron tower, the siege battles, Gro’s was being a turncoat and met the lady by the lake etc. however, I had mix feeling about this book. Because I think the plot is interesting enough to continue reading the story but not enough to compare some fantasy books which I have read that have very intriguing plots and setting. But I think reading at the right time, it wouldn’t be the problem. Just listening to the breeze and bird sounds outside and enjoying this archaic tale was written by an author with prowess at writing.

The characters are good to be memorized, such as Gro, Lord Juss, Corinius, Lady Mevrian. Like the title of the book. At the end of the story which is the beginning of the story. It made me wonder that, when the witch lords were defeated by the demon lords, Gorice, the king of witch land cast his last spell is the consequence of the ending? Like many skillful writer, who invariably hide messages between pages to pages. And like Lord Gro who also is a philosopher, the story is full of philosophical meanings.

Personal rating: 8.5 points, if it is just writing then it would be at least 9 points.

A very strange book, frequently beautiful, ofttimes prolix, and with a thematic structure that left me scratching my head. I don't know enough about Eddison so as to say that he wholly endorsed the view put forward by the Demons - namely, that "fun", or "beauty" is the whole goal of life, and that, should access to this be disbarred, it may be necessary to engage the Gods themselves in assuring the perpetuation of an indefinite cycle of meaningless violence - but given the presence of characters like Lord Gro and Lady Mevrian (the relationship between Gro, Prezmyra, Corund and Mevrian being the crux of the book, no matter that the Lords Juss and Brandoch Daha are nominally the heroes), the evocation of the Ragnarok cycle implied in the conclusion, and the fact that this book is first of all a story to be read, and second an elegy for a lost way of life which most people find admirable in abstract (though they'd be rightly loathe to put it into practice) I doubt it really matters.

Either way, it's a page-turner; and wholly unique. And the archaic morality displayed in this book allows for a great deal of the truth about human nature to be put forward with little compromise, and an unexpected level of sympathy for blackguards of all stripes.

Lord Gro is, without a doubt, one of the best and most fascinating characters I've ever encountered.

This is an uncanny and beguiling book, and quite a wondrous reprieve from my usual fare. Homeric Greek, Victorian English, Norse sagas, and—what would later become—Tolkien high-fantasy blend into an arcane brew with an initial harsh taste but also with a sensuous finish. This book has been around for almost 100 years, so plenty of folks have given their critiques and textual analyses, so why should I really bother? I stumbled upon a very enjoyable dissection by a persona apparently only known as Charles at his blog site The Worthy House here: https://theworthyhouse.com/2017/01/25...

Maybe you’ll enjoy it too. While Charles has his favorite passage from this novel, and shares it at the end of the review, I’ll share mine here for its poignant Buddhism/nihilism (depending on which side one’s mood swims):

“He bowed his head as if to avoid a blow, so plain he seemed to hear somewhat within him crying with a high voice and loud, “Thou art nothing. And all thy desires and memories and loves and dreams, nothing. The little dead earth-louse were of greater avail than thou, were it not nothing as thou art nothing. For all is nothing: earth and sky and sea and they that dwell therein. Nor shall this illusion comfort thee, if it might, that when thou art abolished these things shall endure for a season, stars and months return, and men grow old and die, and new men and women live and love and die and be forgotten. For what is it to thee, that shalt be as a blown-out flame? And all things in earth and heaven, and things past and things for to come, and life and death, and the mere elements of space and time, of being and not being, shall be nothing unto thee; because thou shalt be nothing, for ever.” (pp. 387-8 in the Nook version)

A strange and beautiful book. Eddison's old English styled prose is extremely effective in contributing to the setting, but also in some ways in presupposing the lack of more modern (in this case the 1920s) expectations like well-rounded characters and act structure. The result can be very entertaining but feel repetitive.

The characters, especially the more noble Demons, can almost double for each other in their lack of depth, but again, the style makes this feel more forgivable than in fact it should be. The villains of Witchland get much more favorable portrayals in that their foibles seem to interest Eddison more than the bland noble ethics of his heroes. In fact, Lord Gro reminded me of a sort of proto-Tyrion. There is very much a Game of Thrones type feel to this book as everyone jockeys for favor and blanches at various insults.

One could easily cobble out an archaic fashion show here in between the battles. Eddison spends an inordinate number of words on clothing and decor, but despite the overuse, I absolutely enjoyed the long-detailed descriptions nearly every single time. Ditto landscapes. The sun sets many times in a myriad of different ways, none of which bored me.

Though the book does drag at points, perhaps fittingly, as that's kind of the point, one could contend. The war drags on and on, people die, and so the book drags as well, and then when it ends, it all just starts right back up again... you know... like in real life. That feature felt hugely depressing. I know contemporary readers were like, "hey, you wouldn't feel that way if you'd seen the results of the world wars" and that the consensus is that Eddison was naively celebrating battle, but I chose to read it as a more critical perspective of human nature, and from that perspective it resonates here in 2025, over one hundred years later.

It seems like the last several reviews I've written include the "this isn't for everyone" caveat, and that's true here as well. I had a great time with the Worm Ouroboros and can honestly say I didn't find it hard to read or boring once I got into the rhythm of it. In fact, I could see myself reading it again at some point. But yeah, your average reader might read the first few paragraphs and throw out the tea. A solid 4 stars.

This is a difficult book to rate, because part of what I'm considering, when I review books, is, "How well did the author accomplish their goals? What would have improved the book had it been done differently?" And Eddison has absolutely, no questions asked, accomplished his goals; there is nothing here that, if changed, would make this book more what he wanted it to be.

That the pacing is rambling and stutter-stop and the characterization almost completely blank is irrelevant. The Worm Ouroboros fails as a novel because Eddison has no interest in writing a novel. He wants to write a sixteenth century epic, and he gives no fucks for the fact that the sixteenth century is more than four hundred years in the past.

Okay, he gives some fucks. There's the weird conceits, found in the very beginning, of the story being set on the planet Mercury and observed by the Englishman Lessingham--attempts, however grudging, of fitting his work into the forms of early 20th century fantastic fiction. They're clunky, and they made the first twenty-five pages difficult to get through. Fortunately, after that, Eddison abandons this figleaf to modernity and goes full-speed head with his epic, never mentioning Lessingham again. From that point, I was hooked.

I'm glad Tolkien, not Eddison, ended up being the template on which modern fantasy was built. Eddison and I have what I'll politely call very different philosophical beliefs, and also his approach to women is, uh, a thing (not that Tolkien's is much better). But as a testament to one man's dedication to writing whatever the hell he wanted, current taste be damned, I can't help but admire this--and the writing, though idiosyncratic, is also in its own way glorious.

Visionary, if demanding, fantasy classic. Most importantly, the reader must be prepared for the novel's Elizabethan language. If you've read a lot of Shakespeare, you'll probably be sufficiently prepared, but it's a good idea to have a dictionary handy just in case.

It would also help for the reader to be quite familiar with gemstones, since every surface in this novel seems to be either carved from one or inlaid with one or more, and if you can't readily match pictures to names for a lot of these, as I can't, it's a bit annoying. It would also help to have some familiarity with the terms used to describe mountains, because there's a good deal of mountaineering in the book.

In general, the novel makes unusual demands upon the reader's powers of visualization. I almost felt as though I needed to refuel my imagination periodically in order to be able to supply the book the raw materials it needed to evoke its exotic settings. I know this will make one wonder why anyone should bother reading it, but the point is that I felt this effort to be worth it.