Sunday, December 16, 2012

Lloyd Alexander's The High King: The Return of the Magical?

A thought, and a challenge to 'The Doom that Came,' the avuncular and popular blog that focuses on speculative fiction literature:

In a recent (cough: October 2011) entry, Doom extolled the virtues of Lloyd Alexander's beloved fantasy quintology (if that is the word, or at least a word) for children 'The Chronicles of Prydain,' a fantasy series second only to 'The Chronicles of Narnia' in prestige among the genre, and probably first in quality (much love to CS Lewis for being a pathbreaker in children's fantasy, but he had some substantial limitations as a writer which Alexander did not share), in particular its first volume: The Book of Three. Among other things, Doom noted the exceptional magical content of this first volume was not shared by its successors:

"One major reason that my opinion of The Book of Three varies so much, from one reading to the next, is that the book is quite different from the others.  There’s much more magic about, and this makes the whole atmosphere of Prydain feel different.  Both Gwydion and Eilonwy cast magical spells in the first book, something the prince of Don never does again and the princess of Llyr never again of her own volition.  When Gwydion later resists the tortures of an evil enchantress, he gains the power to smash aside the walls of his prison and then to speak with animals.  Another mighty castle, once the seat of Prydain’s kings, is thrown down into flinders by a massive explosion when the holy sword that lay immured beneath it is stolen.  In fact, much of the book reads like a (rather action-packed) travelogue, as the main characters visit the evil queen’s doomed castle, the valley where Medwyn lives and which only animals may ordinarily enter, the underground realm of the Fair Folk, and finally the golden castle of the Sons of Don.  In a way, the reader is introduced to all the wonders of the land, side by side with the protagonists.  But when they revisit that same land in their later adventures, it often seems much less magical, and the magic they do encounter is less awesome, sometimes even tawdry."

The whole thing can be read here:
http://doomthatcame.wordpress.com/2011/10/19/the-book-of-three/

My question is simple (HUGE SPOILER ALERT). I haven't read one of these books in at least fifteen years, though often enough before that. But doesn't 'The High King,' the pentology's (maybe that's the word) last volume mark a partial return to the more overtly magical nature of the first volume? Partly this is to be expected: four books of development pay dividends in the final volume, and these returns are in part magical and metaphysical. Nevertheless, don't we see Dyrnwyn, perhaps modern fantasy's prototypical flaming magic sword, do wonders once again? Don't the animals who led our protagonists to Medwyn's hidden valley in the first book return to 'take vengeance' against the evil Huntsmen of Annwvin' (spelling) when the latter are pushed into a tough spot? Doesn't dark turn to day (through magic means), and the iron crown of Annwvin burn through the skull of a pretender king? Don't the immortal fates show their true form, doesn't a book strike down a man with fire, and a deathless race meet their match?

All this must be measured against the nature of the book's conclusion (side-note, Alexander writes better endings than anyone), which cuts against magic continuing, and involves the Fair(y) Folk closing their doors forever. But I'd be interested to see any response Doom That Came has on these or other scores.


6 comments:

  1. I am most intrigued by a minor comment of yours, that no one writes endings as well as Alexander. I certainly do not disagree, but I'd be very curious to hear which are your favorites, and why.

    ... though perhaps not here, since such matters are the spoileriest of spoilery.

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    1. Also, you've spoken in the past about Alexander's larger ouevre, and I'd be very curious to hear any comments you had about that, whether about particularly good endings to other books, or just in general.

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  2. Again, it's been a while since I've looked into this, but (despite most of the climax happening off-screen), I like the ending to 'The Book of Three.' 'The Black Cauldron' is even better. But, and this is really just the obvious choice (I haven't really read anything else--not that I remember, anyway--by Lloyd Alexander other than the Chronicles of Prydain) of course I am thinking of The High King. I can't think of an epic work of any kind that draws together all the plot strings and plays on themes, emotions, long-delayed expectations, things planned out long, long in advance, other than that book. 'Return of the Jedi' in some respects pretty brilliantly develops three films worth of material to the point of climax, but that's the only thing I can think of to compare it to, and Jedi has some pesky problems with acting and dialogue quality and, well, like most of the stuff regarding the Ewoks. There aren't really comparable flaws/changes of artistic vision in 'The High King' unless you count Doom That Came's observation that the view of magic is a little later latter four books--which is more a choice than a flaw, I'd say.

    There, I think I did that with no spoilers.

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    1. mistype:
      *...the view of magic is a little DIFFERENT (i.e. it's much less prevalent) in the later four books...

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  3. There is a fair amount of magic near the end of The High King, comparable to similar section of The Book of Three. However, the earlier parts of The High King involve a lot of very mundane difficulties: Celtic armies, icy winter weather, rocky terrain, and a cave-in. While there is some similarly prosaic challenges in The Book of Three, like the wolves of the mountains, the first book definitely has a lot more magical activity in its earlier stages.

    Of course, The Book of Three and The High King have by far the most epic plots of the series, with massive wars ranging across Prydain. These wars provide excellent bookends for the series, and they point to Alexander's remarkable skill in plotting out multiple books.

    I have long maintained that works in multiple volumes are almost always better when the whole series is conceived from the beginning. (Sometimes, as with Star Wars or the Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, it gets downright painful after the original ideas are used up.) In Alexander's case, he originally intended to write only three books, but by the time he finished The Book of Three, he realized that he needed more time to develop the characters of Taran and Eilonwy through their adolescence. It's probably no coincidence that the fourth and fifth books are not as tightly plotted as the other three, which together form the main plot involving the fight against Arawn. However, the ideas for these books were developed early enough that they are still pretty well integrated into the whole.

    One of the remarkable things about The High King is that the events in all the earlier books have crucial consequences in the final narrative. The best known of these is the reappearance of the gwythaint that Taran saved near the end of The Book of Three, but there are many others. Some of the things that happen at the finale are not even fully explained to the reader. The true full meaning of the inscription on Dyrnwyn is never really given, and I didn't entirely get it until I reread the book with my daughter.

    My father was very impressed by Alexander's build-up to the finale atop Mount Dragon, and I agree that it's one of the best structured fantasy climaxes I have encountered. Alexander's other efforts don't seem to come off quite as well. The other multi-volume work by Alexander that I've read was the trilogy of Westmark, The Kestrel, and The Beggar Queen. While he again lays out a plot that spans the whole series, the ending is not so impressive. One thing about it (which makes it more realistic than the Prydain novels, I think) is that the body count among the heroes is very high, and they start dying off in the middle of the second book, continuing until the end of the third.

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  4. It's easy to -say- that plotting everything out in advance pays huge dividends. It's another thing to, you know, actually execute on that over multiple volumes. I've always been amused by the payoff in a David Eddings novel {which, I remember being notable for their deliberate and careful focus on the precise development of intertwining plot and character, if they're in some other respects a little bland} in which a casual mention of a threat regarding a white-hot hook comes to a climax, out of nowhere (the relevant characters weren't even all present in the scene a few lines earlier), two volumes and nine-hundred pages later--the startling climax to an arc you didn't even know had been set up. Anyway, it's one thing to say that type of planning is a good thing--anyone can see it pays dividends--and another to actually do it. In 'Prydain,' Alexander delivered like no one else I've ever read.

    For what it's worth, I'd like to reaffirm my agreement with you that 'The Book of Three' really is clearly the third best of that series (that's meant as a complement). I remember it holding a great deal of promise most times (i.e. about eight) I read it, and the third and fourth volumes (which I think is what you mean above) don't really match up to it, either in terms of tightness of plot, place in the overall scheme, or simple overall quality of the individual content.

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