Elidor

I have dim memories of reading Elidor as a child and being unimpressed. In fact I think I was quite affronted by it as it broke several of what I considered to be cardinal rules of fantasy fiction. Reading it as an adult, I can see exactly why I didn't like it but those 'transgressions' have now become powerful reasons to love it. I found it interesting to notice this, because I don't often get a chance to see how my taste and understanding of books has developed.

Here's a good synopsis/review of Elidor if, like me, you haven't read it in the last twenty years. However, this post is going to be about how my reaction to this book has changed.

Child-me: In my fantasy reading, let there be:

• Lots of description, the richer the better.
• No or very little real-world crossover. Absolutely no television or other trappings of modern life.
• Romance (but no sex because eewwwwww).

And moreover,

• Once the child hero has saved the day he will have full access to the magical world he has rescued and there must be feasting and merriment and more lavish descriptions.
• If it's scary, it will be sword/dragon/monster/dungeon scary.
• The emotional life of the protagonist will be bound up with the story and improved by the end of it.
• There will be at least one magical language, preferably one I can learn a few words of.

Elidor would have upset Child-me because:

• There's hardly any description, none at all of the children. (Boring.)
• The main character is called Roland. (Ugh.)
• Apart from a fairly brief sojourn in Elidor, most of the action takes place in dreary ’60s Manchester. TV, electric razors, washing machines, radios, cars, electricians are much in evidence. (Ugh, it's almost gritty.)
• The protagonists are kids and siblings. (Boring.)
• The moment the children perform their special function (which saves Elidor) all connection with that world is severed and everything is normal again. (That's not fair!)
• We learn absolutely nothing about Elidor, apart from a few place-names. (Boring.)
• It's really fricking scary. Seriously scary, with unseen people continually trying the front door and watching through the letterbox, patches of damp becoming thicker and more solid as unknown men force themselves into our world, unplugged electrical equipment whirring and whizzing and howling away all night. I am a horror-wimp and this would have had me sleeping with the light on. (Mummeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!)

Adult me:

• This story is a taut muscle, working powerfully with complete efficiency. It’s as terse and compact as possible. There is so little fat on these bones, they make Bruce Lee look flabby.
• The description is light and deft. It leaves clear-cut images on the mind's eye and cuts away distractions. This means the images it does provide, linger.
• The children aren't described because they don't really matter. Their personalities would be a distraction from the story.
  
• Roland is a kick-ass name. I read the Romance de Roland at University and loved it.
• The modern world references, particularly the technology, date the story quite obviously. But enough time has past that they now come across as interesting period detail.
  
• No romance. Good. Nothing worse than syrup poured on broccoli.
  
• Wow, how does he make it so scary?!
• The end is perfect. The link between worlds snaps, that's the end of the story. There is no self-congratulation, no pomp. The magic abruptly snuffs out. It's brutal and leaves the reader bereft. I love that.

Buy a copy of Elidor for your very own.