Status
Available
Call number
Publication
White Ivy Press (2013), Edition: Illustrated, 232 pages
Description
In the land of Dorimare, on the shores of the Dapple and the Dawl, the law-abiding residents of Lud-in-the-Mist are plagued by an illegal influx of fairy fruit enticing people to acts of poetry, dancing, and other dangerous flights of fancy. When respectable Mayor Nathaniel Chanticleer finds his family entangled in the scandal, he must call upon both his sharp legal mind and his unacknowledged creative spirit to craft a reconciliation with the Faerie. Dare to embrace your wild side in this classic fantasy. Suitable for ages eight and up.
Media reviews
The psychologist C. J. Jung maintained that the true purpose of middle age was the integration of all the varying, and sometimes unacknowledged, aspects of our personalities. Perhaps this accounts for the unusual protagonist of Hope Mirrlees’s Lud-in-the-Mist (1925), one of the most admired
Show More
fantasy novels of the 20th century — and one that is clearly intended for adults. Mirrlees’s book explores the need to embrace what we fear, to come to terms with what Jung called the shadow, those sweet and dark impulses that our public selves ignore or repress. There are no elven blades or cursed rings here; no epic battles either, and the novel’s hero resembles the aged Bilbo Baggins more than the charismatic, sword-wielding Aragorn. Show Less
Neil Gaiman once said in conversation that Lud-in-the-Mist "deals with the central matter of fantasy -- the reconciliation of the fantastic and the mundane." Which, perhaps, comes as close to the heart of the question as anybody's going to get.
To learn more, you'll simply have to read the book.
To learn more, you'll simply have to read the book.
The book is a curio, meandering between broad comedy, suspense, murder mystery and adventure, veering from moments of slapstick to moving scenes of pathos. Like all good magic tricks, the charm of the book lies in the craft of its glamour and sleight of hand. While it has its fair share of lo! and
Show More
behold!, the simplicity of the writing conceals exquisite turns of phrase and an underlying intensity that can burst unexpectedly upon the reader. Nevertheless, it is hard to deny the book's weaknesses. Mirrlees' plotting is episodic, and the overwhelming feeling at the end is deflation that the long-promised fireworks of the final confrontation in Faerie should take place offstage. But by this point, it's clear that Lud-in-the-Mist is not all it seems: what at first appears to be a hotchpotch novel reveals itself as a carefully-considered - if not executed - allegory about the nature of 'fantasy'. Show Less
User reviews
LibraryThing member twilightnocturne
In the country of Dorimare, the capital city of Lud-In-The-Mist lay at the confluence of two rivers about ten miles from the Elfin Hills and Elfin Marches. It also lay just miles from the Debatable Hills, which to those whom believe, leads to an exotic world called Fairyland -- one where the silent
Though the the town of Lud-In-The-Mist is beautifully described as being plentiful of trees, fruitful, and a great place for children and families to live and prosper, it also has it's share of unwanted problems -- the major one being quite serious: the illegal import of that non-existent fruit, Fairyfruit. And yes, while this fruit is simply deemed a ridiculous legend by law, regardless, it has been illegally smuggled into the city for years despite their (not so best) efforts to keep it out. This is when the story really heats up and leads to one of our main characters -- Master Nathaniel Chanticleer, the Mayor of Lud-In-The-Mist.
Master Nathaniel has always been a rather simple but strange fellow – taking joy in his every day, repetitious tasks. Though to the common eye, Nathaniel seems to be quite the ordinary guy – the father of two, husband, he's always been a bit..different. As if he's continually moving through life at the beat of his own drum. Unfortunately for Nathaniel, his familiar and comforting life gets turned upside down when his Son, Ranulph Chanticleer, claims to have eaten the forbidden fruit after acting quite curious for a few days. This then leads down a strange path of twists and turns, a murder mystery, deception, and yes, the land of Faerie!
Lud-In-The-Mist is a one of kind a read – a pre-tolkien fantasy novel that clearly resembles the concepts of magic and fantasy that many authors work with today. From touching moments, to wondrous enchanting moments, to sad more serene ones – and even to extremely humorous times, this book has something for everything. Author Hope Mirrlees does such a grand job creating a completely new and different world – a world that you could swear truly exists somewhere today. A world that I would love to visit – though in some ways, I feel I already have..
Along with the enchanting beauty of this one-of-a-kind world that Mirrlees masterfully conjures up, her use of the English language is very nineteenth-century and adds to the whole feel of this book. The wording, the phrasing, the terms – they all contribute to the majestic vibe that this writing gives off to the reader -- transforming them into a different place and time. Mirrlees's beautiful style truly shines brightly throughout, flowing from page to page almost poetically while remaining incredibly descriptive and enjoyable. Her depictions are stunningly vivid; her narration of events and places beautifully detailed. All in all, her ability to create such unique and realistic descriptions is a truly unique gift – one that really isn't seen very often.
Oh, and of course, we cannot forget to mention (no, never!), her unique exclamations and curses that pop up from time to time within this lovely tale – curses her characters often use in stressful, shocking, or unpleasant situations. Phrases like “Toasted Cheese!” or “By my great aunts rump!” Or perhaps, “By the Sun, Moon, and the Stars!” or “Son of a Fairy!” (which is apparently quite a naughty one in the world of Lud-In-The-Mist). Though none can truly compare to my personal favorite, “Busty Bridgit!” Ah yes, I found myself chuckling several times throughout this book, and these cute little expressions truly add some very humorous and light moments to a fairly deep read.
All in all, I must say that Lud-In-The-Mist is a beautifully written fairy tale with unique and compelling characters, excellent lore and back-story, and a very solid and engaging plot. My only slight gripe is that I wanted more time spent within the Faerie realm, but in my view, the way this book was laid out and evolved from chapter to chapter was more than appropriate. Lud-In-The-Mist is a book I will treasure forever, and one that will remain a classic in my eyes until the end of days. If I had to recommend this to a specific audience, I would say this: To anyone who enjoys a fairy tale – to anyone who enjoys humor, and fantasy, and a magic world – to anyone who enjoys mesmerizing descriptions and surroundings – read this book. Enjoy it. Take it in. I'll also say that if you're someone who enjoys the likes of Tolkien or Neil Gaiman (as this novel is very reminiscent to these creative authors), you will love this. I know I did. For me, this book was not just read, but a magical journey.
Show More
people reside, and one where the living will never return from. Though this legend is weaved deeply into the folklore of Lud-In-The-Mist, it by law, has been banished from existence itself. For the discussion of Fairyland, or the discussion of Fairyfruit (a fruit said to cause madness in those who eat it), is looked down upon by the citizens of Lud-In-The-Mist; besides, by law, it doesn't exist anyway, right?Though the the town of Lud-In-The-Mist is beautifully described as being plentiful of trees, fruitful, and a great place for children and families to live and prosper, it also has it's share of unwanted problems -- the major one being quite serious: the illegal import of that non-existent fruit, Fairyfruit. And yes, while this fruit is simply deemed a ridiculous legend by law, regardless, it has been illegally smuggled into the city for years despite their (not so best) efforts to keep it out. This is when the story really heats up and leads to one of our main characters -- Master Nathaniel Chanticleer, the Mayor of Lud-In-The-Mist.
Master Nathaniel has always been a rather simple but strange fellow – taking joy in his every day, repetitious tasks. Though to the common eye, Nathaniel seems to be quite the ordinary guy – the father of two, husband, he's always been a bit..different. As if he's continually moving through life at the beat of his own drum. Unfortunately for Nathaniel, his familiar and comforting life gets turned upside down when his Son, Ranulph Chanticleer, claims to have eaten the forbidden fruit after acting quite curious for a few days. This then leads down a strange path of twists and turns, a murder mystery, deception, and yes, the land of Faerie!
Lud-In-The-Mist is a one of kind a read – a pre-tolkien fantasy novel that clearly resembles the concepts of magic and fantasy that many authors work with today. From touching moments, to wondrous enchanting moments, to sad more serene ones – and even to extremely humorous times, this book has something for everything. Author Hope Mirrlees does such a grand job creating a completely new and different world – a world that you could swear truly exists somewhere today. A world that I would love to visit – though in some ways, I feel I already have..
Along with the enchanting beauty of this one-of-a-kind world that Mirrlees masterfully conjures up, her use of the English language is very nineteenth-century and adds to the whole feel of this book. The wording, the phrasing, the terms – they all contribute to the majestic vibe that this writing gives off to the reader -- transforming them into a different place and time. Mirrlees's beautiful style truly shines brightly throughout, flowing from page to page almost poetically while remaining incredibly descriptive and enjoyable. Her depictions are stunningly vivid; her narration of events and places beautifully detailed. All in all, her ability to create such unique and realistic descriptions is a truly unique gift – one that really isn't seen very often.
Oh, and of course, we cannot forget to mention (no, never!), her unique exclamations and curses that pop up from time to time within this lovely tale – curses her characters often use in stressful, shocking, or unpleasant situations. Phrases like “Toasted Cheese!” or “By my great aunts rump!” Or perhaps, “By the Sun, Moon, and the Stars!” or “Son of a Fairy!” (which is apparently quite a naughty one in the world of Lud-In-The-Mist). Though none can truly compare to my personal favorite, “Busty Bridgit!” Ah yes, I found myself chuckling several times throughout this book, and these cute little expressions truly add some very humorous and light moments to a fairly deep read.
All in all, I must say that Lud-In-The-Mist is a beautifully written fairy tale with unique and compelling characters, excellent lore and back-story, and a very solid and engaging plot. My only slight gripe is that I wanted more time spent within the Faerie realm, but in my view, the way this book was laid out and evolved from chapter to chapter was more than appropriate. Lud-In-The-Mist is a book I will treasure forever, and one that will remain a classic in my eyes until the end of days. If I had to recommend this to a specific audience, I would say this: To anyone who enjoys a fairy tale – to anyone who enjoys humor, and fantasy, and a magic world – to anyone who enjoys mesmerizing descriptions and surroundings – read this book. Enjoy it. Take it in. I'll also say that if you're someone who enjoys the likes of Tolkien or Neil Gaiman (as this novel is very reminiscent to these creative authors), you will love this. I know I did. For me, this book was not just read, but a magical journey.
Show Less
LibraryThing member atimco
Hope Mirrlees' Lud-in-the-Mist, published in 1926, is a fantasy story that reminded me very much of Lord Dunsany's melancholy tales of Faerie and actually was, I think, written in response to The King of Elfland's Daughter. Like that undisputed classic of fantasy literature, Lud-in-the-Mist
Over two hundred years ago, the people of Dorimare got rid of their Duke and everything pertaining to the world of Fairy on the other side of the Debatable Hills. Stolid and practical and self-indulgent as the Dorimarites have become, they nevertheless retain some vestiges of their fairy heritage, unbeknownst to them. And the illegal traffic in fairy fruit, that perilous viand, has never quite been stopped. When the High Seneschal Nathaniel Chanticleer learns his son Ranulph has eaten the scandalous fairy fruit, he must plunge into a reality he has feared all his life to bring the boy home and save Dorimare from the invasion that is coming.
I was struck by the very real danger the world of fairy presents to the characters. As a reader of fantasy literature, I am predisposed to be in favor of the fantastical elements of the author's creation; I am, in short, already on the side of Fairy. But am I really? The world of Fairy isn't safe, and nor am I convinced that it is—like a beloved character from another fantasy world—both unsafe and yet good. But then one has to define what is good. Is it the sturdy common sense of the Dorimarites and their replacement fantasy of the Law? Is it the wilder, unfathomable mystery of the other realm? Or is it something between these two, the place where they meet?
Mirrlees is a masterful writer who puts her readers gently but firmly in their place from the very beginning and continues her domination throughout the story. Her narrative is sprinkled with strongly stated opinions that are in themselves inconsequential, but that add greatly to the spell of the piece. She has a slightly cynical tone even while describing beautiful things, like a person who has experienced something bitter. And yet her gentle bitterness has a wryness about it, as if she (like Dame Marigold) can see the funny side too.
Part murder mystery (yes), part tribute, part courtroom drama, part quest, part family story, Lud-in-the-Mist is all fantasy. It didn't rock my world like Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, or cast quite the spell of The King of Elfland's Daughter, but it is its own experience and I enjoyed it.
Show More
features an ordinary man from our world ("the fields we know") going on a rescue mission into the heart of the fairy realm. But unlike Dunsany's story, Mirrlees's tale takes place exclusively in our world, with an almost Austen-like emphasis on characters and relationships. It is apparently an underground classic among fantasy-lovers, and I was finally able to get my hands on a copy (riddled with typos though this Cold Spring Press edition is, ahem). Over two hundred years ago, the people of Dorimare got rid of their Duke and everything pertaining to the world of Fairy on the other side of the Debatable Hills. Stolid and practical and self-indulgent as the Dorimarites have become, they nevertheless retain some vestiges of their fairy heritage, unbeknownst to them. And the illegal traffic in fairy fruit, that perilous viand, has never quite been stopped. When the High Seneschal Nathaniel Chanticleer learns his son Ranulph has eaten the scandalous fairy fruit, he must plunge into a reality he has feared all his life to bring the boy home and save Dorimare from the invasion that is coming.
I was struck by the very real danger the world of fairy presents to the characters. As a reader of fantasy literature, I am predisposed to be in favor of the fantastical elements of the author's creation; I am, in short, already on the side of Fairy. But am I really? The world of Fairy isn't safe, and nor am I convinced that it is—like a beloved character from another fantasy world—both unsafe and yet good. But then one has to define what is good. Is it the sturdy common sense of the Dorimarites and their replacement fantasy of the Law? Is it the wilder, unfathomable mystery of the other realm? Or is it something between these two, the place where they meet?
Mirrlees is a masterful writer who puts her readers gently but firmly in their place from the very beginning and continues her domination throughout the story. Her narrative is sprinkled with strongly stated opinions that are in themselves inconsequential, but that add greatly to the spell of the piece. She has a slightly cynical tone even while describing beautiful things, like a person who has experienced something bitter. And yet her gentle bitterness has a wryness about it, as if she (like Dame Marigold) can see the funny side too.
Part murder mystery (yes), part tribute, part courtroom drama, part quest, part family story, Lud-in-the-Mist is all fantasy. It didn't rock my world like Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, or cast quite the spell of The King of Elfland's Daughter, but it is its own experience and I enjoyed it.
Show Less
LibraryThing member milomidnight
The slightly dotty grandmother of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell... if you liked the latter, you will almost certainly adore this too. On a random tangent, I do so wonder at the connection of the North Of England with Faerie and Magic. And as someone born and bred in the North East, but no longer
Lud is a wonderful, enchanting book. Your life will be richer for it...
Show More
resident, it adds to the sense of nostalgic magic/romance i feel for the place... I love that the North is so magical in Jonathan Strange, and was utterly delighted to discover that Northumberland was, in the past, referred to as 'the debatable lands' (as in Lud The Debatable Hills seperate Dorimare from Faerie), due to the long standing struggles over where the border between England and Scotland should lay.Lud is a wonderful, enchanting book. Your life will be richer for it...
Show Less
LibraryThing member elenchus
The story holds a pervasive charm even as it treats of somber and malefic aspects of life. Mirrlees simply opts to take it all as evidence of the world's Goodness, I think, and is no Pollyanna. In place of the horror of the young, then, the acceptance of those who have endured as well as
The book does read like Cabell (the notion of the Note, the prose of the story, the dialogue of characters), though for all that hers is a different voice, a different sensibility, if sympathetic. Mirrlees also has a great vocabulary, with a penchant for archaic and rare words like Cabell and Leiber and other fantasists. A stroke of genius to always hint at the fey, at least through the first third, and in this respect not only by talking of them rather than featuring them as characters, but also that the Ludites and Dorimarites themselves generally speak of the fey as though the latter were permanently offstage. There are ready sayings and common gestures and traditions, a folklore of the Silent People, but nothing in current society. Even for the characters in the novel, then, the fey are once removed. It is a ready analogue of our world, as different this world she builds might first appear.
Perhaps Mirrlees's most striking invention (if not the Note already mentioned) is her idea that Law is the obverse of fairy fruit, and consequently, the World-in-Law the counter to Faerie.
"But you remember what my father said [Nathaniel to his friend Ambrose] about the Law being man's substitute for fairy fruit? Fairy things are all of them supposed to be shadowy cheats -- delusion. But man can't live without delusion, so he creates for himself another delusion, the world-in-law, subject to no other law than the will of man, where man juggles with facts to his heart's content, and says, 'If I choose I shall make a man old enough to be my father my son, and if I choose I shall turn fruit into silk and black into white, for this is the world I have made myself, and here I am master.' And he creates a monster to inhabit it -- the man-in-law, who is like a mechanical toy and always behaves exactly as he is expected to behave, and is no more like you and me than are the faeries." [162-63]
This is a powerful idea, it embraces both modern economic game theory and the Law of Thelema, and my guess is that Mirrlees attended to more of its nuance and implications than she states explicitly, to her enduring credit.
Mirrlees offers, above or perhaps behind her very engaging tale, a sad critique of Reason, and civilisation. Not in a nihilist sense, but a Romantic sense of hopelessness or disappointment. It is this theme and its relation to the World-in-Law which will reward a rereading, I think.
//
From Lin Carter's preface or foreword to the Ballantine Adult Fantasy imprint:
The novel really begins when Master Nathaniel Chanticleer, one of the most respected burghers of Dorimare, of a fine old family, learns that his young son has been tempted to eat of fairy fruit. The emotional crisis that follows, and Chanticleer's painful re-examination of all the tenets by which he has lived so long, is the heart and crux of Miss Mirrlees' brilliant and deeply moving novel, which culminates in the desperate quest of Master Nathaniel after his wandering exiled son to the very borders of Faerie ... and beyond. [x]
//
A candidate from the novel for the Library of Imaginary Books: Traces of Fairy in the Inhabitant's Customs, Arts, Vegetation and Language of Dorimare [14]
Show More
enjoyed.The book does read like Cabell (the notion of the Note, the prose of the story, the dialogue of characters), though for all that hers is a different voice, a different sensibility, if sympathetic. Mirrlees also has a great vocabulary, with a penchant for archaic and rare words like Cabell and Leiber and other fantasists. A stroke of genius to always hint at the fey, at least through the first third, and in this respect not only by talking of them rather than featuring them as characters, but also that the Ludites and Dorimarites themselves generally speak of the fey as though the latter were permanently offstage. There are ready sayings and common gestures and traditions, a folklore of the Silent People, but nothing in current society. Even for the characters in the novel, then, the fey are once removed. It is a ready analogue of our world, as different this world she builds might first appear.
Perhaps Mirrlees's most striking invention (if not the Note already mentioned) is her idea that Law is the obverse of fairy fruit, and consequently, the World-in-Law the counter to Faerie.
"But you remember what my father said [Nathaniel to his friend Ambrose] about the Law being man's substitute for fairy fruit? Fairy things are all of them supposed to be shadowy cheats -- delusion. But man can't live without delusion, so he creates for himself another delusion, the world-in-law, subject to no other law than the will of man, where man juggles with facts to his heart's content, and says, 'If I choose I shall make a man old enough to be my father my son, and if I choose I shall turn fruit into silk and black into white, for this is the world I have made myself, and here I am master.' And he creates a monster to inhabit it -- the man-in-law, who is like a mechanical toy and always behaves exactly as he is expected to behave, and is no more like you and me than are the faeries." [162-63]
This is a powerful idea, it embraces both modern economic game theory and the Law of Thelema, and my guess is that Mirrlees attended to more of its nuance and implications than she states explicitly, to her enduring credit.
Mirrlees offers, above or perhaps behind her very engaging tale, a sad critique of Reason, and civilisation. Not in a nihilist sense, but a Romantic sense of hopelessness or disappointment. It is this theme and its relation to the World-in-Law which will reward a rereading, I think.
//
From Lin Carter's preface or foreword to the Ballantine Adult Fantasy imprint:
The novel really begins when Master Nathaniel Chanticleer, one of the most respected burghers of Dorimare, of a fine old family, learns that his young son has been tempted to eat of fairy fruit. The emotional crisis that follows, and Chanticleer's painful re-examination of all the tenets by which he has lived so long, is the heart and crux of Miss Mirrlees' brilliant and deeply moving novel, which culminates in the desperate quest of Master Nathaniel after his wandering exiled son to the very borders of Faerie ... and beyond. [x]
//
A candidate from the novel for the Library of Imaginary Books: Traces of Fairy in the Inhabitant's Customs, Arts, Vegetation and Language of Dorimare [14]
Show Less
LibraryThing member ChrisRiesbeck
Every once in a while my deep dives into my library pull up a treasure. Apparently Neil Gaiman in a foreword to a more recent edition calls this one of his ten favorite books. That's no surprise given that his favorite is Crowley's Little, Big, which this book from 1926 resembles in many ways.
The book begins in heavy descriptive mode -- both enchanting and exhausting. Since Mirrlees was a poet, I expected that style to maintain through the book, but the text became much less dense after a few chapters as plot and characterization took over. Readers looking for a story will not be disappointed, nor will readers looking for highly sympathetic and believable characters, or interesting insights into the ephemeral effects of reason and the "fiction" of law.
Compared to Little, Big which I consider perfect, I had two issues with Lud-in-the-Mist. At the story level, a repeated plot mechanism is the false tale -- pretty much all obstacles for the main characters not of their own doing is caused by someone simply misleading them. At the philosophical level, the themes that motivate the story are hammered a bit too hard, given their obviousness.
But even so this was a wonderful book to finally read. Highly recommended.
Show More
There is the distinctive but clear author's voice and rich prose, there is the setting of events in the normal world but near to and constantly affected by the fairy world, there is the deep history behind the events of the story, and there is minimal element of actual magic to perhaps no more than simple delusion. The book begins in heavy descriptive mode -- both enchanting and exhausting. Since Mirrlees was a poet, I expected that style to maintain through the book, but the text became much less dense after a few chapters as plot and characterization took over. Readers looking for a story will not be disappointed, nor will readers looking for highly sympathetic and believable characters, or interesting insights into the ephemeral effects of reason and the "fiction" of law.
Compared to Little, Big which I consider perfect, I had two issues with Lud-in-the-Mist. At the story level, a repeated plot mechanism is the false tale -- pretty much all obstacles for the main characters not of their own doing is caused by someone simply misleading them. At the philosophical level, the themes that motivate the story are hammered a bit too hard, given their obviousness.
But even so this was a wonderful book to finally read. Highly recommended.
Show Less
LibraryThing member stubbyfingers
Written in the 1920's, this book is the contemporary of works such as The Lord of the Rings and it reads somewhat similarly. It often quotes made-up songs and poetry and is given to flights of fancy so far out there that I sometimes found it hard to follow. The basic premise was a good one and I
Show More
enjoyed the story itself, but the characters were fairly silly and hard to sympathize with. The writing was beautiful and amazingly colorful yet I sometimes had trouble paying attention and comprehending what I was reading. I would often discover when I reached the bottom of a page that I had no idea what had just happened on that page and had to go back to reread. It was hopeless if ever I tried to read this without being able to give it my undivided attention. I liked how the story ended but it seemed a little abrupt. If you're a fun of Tolkein or of Neil Gaiman's Stardust then I'd recommend you give this a try, otherwise probably not. Show Less
LibraryThing member lunacat
Lud-In-The-Mist, on the banks of the rivers Dapple and Dawl, is focused around merchants and trade, Law and respectability. But a dark force lurks beneath the surface, coming out of the Elfin Marches and the Debatable Lands. It is 'fairie', slipping into the town via the forbidden and feared 'fairy
Lyrical and beautifully written from start to finish, this was poetry as prose. Within here there are none of the usual fantasy suspects: no wars, battles or evil sorcerers are found. Instead, there are far sublter dangers and fears, with the suspiciously helpful Endymion Leer causing malicious trouble and sending chills up the spine.
Not only is some of the language stunning, it is also extremely atmospheric, at times causing goosebumps all over. That is the charm of this as it captures you with gentleness as opposed to action, until you drink in every second.
Very much reminiscent of The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, if you like that then you will probably like this. Not for everyone, this is now residing as one of my favourite fantasy books of all time.
Show More
fruit', through dreams and wandering people. For Nathaniel Chanticleer, faerie hits closer to home as the Note that has haunted him years comes back, and his own son seems within its grasp.Lyrical and beautifully written from start to finish, this was poetry as prose. Within here there are none of the usual fantasy suspects: no wars, battles or evil sorcerers are found. Instead, there are far sublter dangers and fears, with the suspiciously helpful Endymion Leer causing malicious trouble and sending chills up the spine.
Not only is some of the language stunning, it is also extremely atmospheric, at times causing goosebumps all over. That is the charm of this as it captures you with gentleness as opposed to action, until you drink in every second.
Very much reminiscent of The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, if you like that then you will probably like this. Not for everyone, this is now residing as one of my favourite fantasy books of all time.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Gwendydd
This story is set in the village of Dorimare, which is near the border of the fairy realm. The people of Dorimare long ago rejected any contact with fairies, and even the mention of them is taboo. But fairy fruit is somehow entering the realm, and having a strange effect on the people of Dorimare.
The main strength of this book is the writing: at once poetic, archaic, whimsical, and delightfully atmospheric, the book is worth reading just for the writing alone.
As for the story... well, it's intriguing and interesting, and although it's pretty clear from the very beginning who the culprit is, the process of discovery is still fun. I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something, though - like this ought to be an allegory, or ought to be making some sort of profound commentary on human society that I missed. From that standpoint, the whole book was a little unsatisfying.
Certainly a fun read, though, and definitely an ancestor to books like Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell or Little, Big, where the world of fairy infuses the whole story, yet very little of the story actually takes place in the fairy world.
Show More
Master Nathaniel and Master Ambrose, two old friends and prominent citizens whose children have eaten the fruit, work together to discover how the fruit is entering Dorimare.The main strength of this book is the writing: at once poetic, archaic, whimsical, and delightfully atmospheric, the book is worth reading just for the writing alone.
As for the story... well, it's intriguing and interesting, and although it's pretty clear from the very beginning who the culprit is, the process of discovery is still fun. I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something, though - like this ought to be an allegory, or ought to be making some sort of profound commentary on human society that I missed. From that standpoint, the whole book was a little unsatisfying.
Certainly a fun read, though, and definitely an ancestor to books like Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell or Little, Big, where the world of fairy infuses the whole story, yet very little of the story actually takes place in the fairy world.
Show Less
LibraryThing member isabelx
"Poor Chanticleer! Poor John o' Dreams!" he said gently. "I have often wished my honey were not so bitter to the taste. Believe me, Chanticleer, I fain would find an antidote to the bitter herb of life, but none grows this side of the hills - or the other."
"And yet . . . I have never tasted fairy
"There are many fruits in my orchard, and many and various are the fruit they bear - music and dreams and grief and sometimes, joy. All your life, Chanticleer, you have eaten fairy fruit, and some day, it may be, you will hear the Note again - but that I cannot promise."
A Fantasy classic from the 1920s, "Lud-in-the-Mist" was Hope Mirrlees' only foray into the genre. The Luddites have had no truck with magic since a revolution several hundred years ago in which they threw out the dissolute Lord Aubrey and replaced magic with the rule of law. But the river Dapple, whose source is in Fairyland, flows through the town, and fairy fruits are still smuggled into Lud, causing 'madness, suicide, orgiastic dances, and wild doings under the moon' in those who eat them.
And when his son shows signs of having eaten fairy fruit and the pupils of Miss Crabapple's Academy for young ladies, his daughter among them, vanish into Fairyland, Mayor Nathaniel Chanticleer has to face the danger head on, instead of hiding behind the legal fictions that deny the existence of Faerie.
"And yet . . . I have never tasted fairy
Show More
fruit," said Master Nathaniel in a low broken voice."There are many fruits in my orchard, and many and various are the fruit they bear - music and dreams and grief and sometimes, joy. All your life, Chanticleer, you have eaten fairy fruit, and some day, it may be, you will hear the Note again - but that I cannot promise."
A Fantasy classic from the 1920s, "Lud-in-the-Mist" was Hope Mirrlees' only foray into the genre. The Luddites have had no truck with magic since a revolution several hundred years ago in which they threw out the dissolute Lord Aubrey and replaced magic with the rule of law. But the river Dapple, whose source is in Fairyland, flows through the town, and fairy fruits are still smuggled into Lud, causing 'madness, suicide, orgiastic dances, and wild doings under the moon' in those who eat them.
And when his son shows signs of having eaten fairy fruit and the pupils of Miss Crabapple's Academy for young ladies, his daughter among them, vanish into Fairyland, Mayor Nathaniel Chanticleer has to face the danger head on, instead of hiding behind the legal fictions that deny the existence of Faerie.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Mary_Overton
A book that affected me deeply. Read it twice ... the first time slowly, making notes, flipping back and forth between pages to tie bits and pieces of the story together ... the second time straight through for pure enjoyment.
I agree with Neil Gaiman who says in the Foreword:
"The writing is
From a speech by the mysterious Dr. Leer:
"' ... there are two races - trees and man; and for each there is a different dispensation. Trees are silent, motionless, serene. They live and die, but do not know the taste of either life or death; to them a secret has been entrusted but not revealed.
"'But the other tribe - the passionate, tragic, rootless tree - man? Alas! he is a creature whose highest privileges are a curse. In his mouth is ever the bitter-sweet taste of life and death, unknown to the trees. Without respite he is dragged by the two wild horses, memory and hope; and he is tormented by a secret that he can never tell. For every man worthy of the name is an initiate; but each one into different Mysteries. And some walk among their fellows with the pitying, slightly scornful smile, of an adept among catechumens. And some are confiding and garrulous, and would so willingly communicate their own unique secret - in vain! For though they shout it in the market-place, or whisper it in music and poetry, what they say is never the same as what they know, and they are like ghosts charged with a message of tremendous import who can only trail their chains and gibber....'" pp. 207-8
I agree with Neil Gaiman who says in the Foreword:
"The writing is
Show More
elegant, supple, effective and haunting: the author demands a great deal from her readers, which she repays many times over." pg. 8From a speech by the mysterious Dr. Leer:
"' ... there are two races - trees and man; and for each there is a different dispensation. Trees are silent, motionless, serene. They live and die, but do not know the taste of either life or death; to them a secret has been entrusted but not revealed.
"'But the other tribe - the passionate, tragic, rootless tree - man? Alas! he is a creature whose highest privileges are a curse. In his mouth is ever the bitter-sweet taste of life and death, unknown to the trees. Without respite he is dragged by the two wild horses, memory and hope; and he is tormented by a secret that he can never tell. For every man worthy of the name is an initiate; but each one into different Mysteries. And some walk among their fellows with the pitying, slightly scornful smile, of an adept among catechumens. And some are confiding and garrulous, and would so willingly communicate their own unique secret - in vain! For though they shout it in the market-place, or whisper it in music and poetry, what they say is never the same as what they know, and they are like ghosts charged with a message of tremendous import who can only trail their chains and gibber....'" pp. 207-8
Show Less
LibraryThing member jen.e.moore
I'm only halfway through (but I got there all today --) and I can see why this would be a favorite book of so many fantasy writers. It's obviously allegorical but it's very complex, in a way not based in character but in concept, that makes you want to keep poking it to see what else you can make
On finishing: Yep, I just love this book entirely. Allegorical in the way of old folktales, where you could pick it apart forever and never figure it out completely. Lovely.
Show More
come out of it.On finishing: Yep, I just love this book entirely. Allegorical in the way of old folktales, where you could pick it apart forever and never figure it out completely. Lovely.
Show Less
LibraryThing member zeborah
This is the mode that Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell echoes. The entry is a little slow (so a glance some years back wasn't sufficient to pull me straight in), but that slowness covers a great depth and wit.
The parallelism of the delusions of Faerie and Law was wonderful, subtly made manifest in
And every word and moment deeply deeply creepy; and if I knew how she does that!
Utterly fantastic.
The parallelism of the delusions of Faerie and Law was wonderful, subtly made manifest in
Show More
the way the Law refers to fairy fruit as silk, and then when Nat's house is searched for silken vanities, fairy fruit hidden by one of the Silent People is found instead.And every word and moment deeply deeply creepy; and if I knew how she does that!
Utterly fantastic.
Show Less
LibraryThing member AndreasJ
Nathaniel Chanticleer is the mayor of the titular town, a mercantile and prosaic place whose social order is threatened by the illicit importation of fairy fruit from neighbouring Fairyland. The threat turns personal when the mayor's own son is found to have tasted the forbidden fruit, and
A reflection on the interplay between reason and imagination, the apparent message is that we need a middle way between the excesses of each, between Lud's deadening conventionality and Fairyland's chaos. The story as such is perhaps not the most compelling, but it's beautifully written. From the point of view of the retrospective genre assignment as high fantasy, there isn't much action, but a lot of attention to characters, their relationships and foibles.
I came across this because of the LT user recommendation saying it was written as a response to Lord Dunsany's The King of Elfland's Daughter (which I read last year). There's a certain mirror symmetry between them - in Dunsany's book the fields we know and the lands of fairy become entangled due to initiative from our side, and the results are disastrous; in Mirrlees' the initiative comes from the other side, and the consequences overall for the better. Anyone who likes the one is likely to like the other.
Show More
Nathaniel - a middle-aged man who by preference devotes his time to committee meetings and formal dinners - is cast on a journey that will transform both himself and his town.A reflection on the interplay between reason and imagination, the apparent message is that we need a middle way between the excesses of each, between Lud's deadening conventionality and Fairyland's chaos. The story as such is perhaps not the most compelling, but it's beautifully written. From the point of view of the retrospective genre assignment as high fantasy, there isn't much action, but a lot of attention to characters, their relationships and foibles.
I came across this because of the LT user recommendation saying it was written as a response to Lord Dunsany's The King of Elfland's Daughter (which I read last year). There's a certain mirror symmetry between them - in Dunsany's book the fields we know and the lands of fairy become entangled due to initiative from our side, and the results are disastrous; in Mirrlees' the initiative comes from the other side, and the consequences overall for the better. Anyone who likes the one is likely to like the other.
Show Less
LibraryThing member timjones
This 1926 fantasy novel combines much of the language of 19th-century English fantasy with some 20th century preoccupations. It stops at the point when many a fantasy novel would be just getting started, but its tale of the relationship between the humdrum world and the faery world, told almost
Show More
entirely from the mundane side of the line, still packs a thought-provoking punch - and is told in some beautiful language. Show Less
LibraryThing member pjohanneson
It's an offbeat little fantasy, very episodic, with some beautiful language. I look forward to re-reading it in a year or two.
LibraryThing member KateSherrod
Of course, I come to this novel via Tim Powers, who quoted it quite tantalizingly and memorably in Last Call as one to which Scott Crane and his late wife often referred in their intimate shorthand with one another. At one point Susan's ghost, or at least the chthonic spirt-of-alcohol that is
Well, now I know. And its source is just as intriguing and maddening and wonderful and mind-bogglingly cool as I had hoped it would be.
Lud-in-the-Mist is one of those open secrets by which real fantasy fans of a certain wistful, thoughtful, poetic type know each other, I think. Originally published in 1926, it dates from the same era that gave us H.P. Lovecraft and Lord Dunsany and Clark Ashton Smith, and shares some of the dreamlike qualities of the best of those writers' work, but has none of the menace and horror. At least not overtly, though, and I rejoice to say it, Mirlees' version of fairies and Fairyland is quite, quite uncanny.
At first the book reminded me more than a little of Mervyn Peake's Gormenghast works, the first of which, Titus Groan, I am about halfway through reading but may not ever finish not so much out of dislike as exhaustion with Peake's "fantasy of manners" and its glacial slowness and hypnotic stolidity* and its near lack of action. But soon I realized that this was an altogether sprightlier work, for all its early chapter concerns with a politically and socially powerful father who regards his son as a mere adjunct or appendage of his own identity.
But then the book comes into its own just as Nathan Chanticleer's young son is suddenly revealed to him as a whole 'nother human being when he stumbles into confessing that he has broken the city of Lud-in-the-Mist's single greatest taboo: he has eaten fairy fruit. Fairy fruit being something between a narcotic and a food exported by the nation that borders Chanticleer's own, that being Fairyland. You know, where fairies are, and magic and stuff. Stuff that has been expunged as thoroughly as possible from memory and consciousness by the middle class of Lud-in-the-Mist as part of their socio-political coup that rid the city of its irrational hereditary aristocracy and its feudalistic ways.
Of course, in ridding the city of its old masters and replacing them with rational, vaguely meritocratic,profit-minded new ones, much was lost, and many did not give it up lightly. Thus a sort of cult in which the last Duke, Aubrey, is basically an avatar of the Green Man, still quietly flourishes in Lud-in-the-Mist and its environs, and lots of secret doings can be traced back to this cult and its adherents, witting and un-. Which is how, of course, the youngest Chanticleer winds up eating fairy fruit and in so doing turn everything possible on its head.
The rest of the plot winds up being almost a cozy mystery as Nathan tries to track down how this unspeakable thing has happened to his (belated) pride and joy. A cozy mystery with truly wonderful grace notes, including astonishingly lovely prose and wonderful insights into the nature of truth, the power of belief, and the limitations of reason. ""Reason, I know, is only a drug, and, as such, its effects are never permanent" says one city father to another. "But, like the juice of the poppy, it often gives a temporary relief."
A lot of Lud-in-the-Mist deals with just that kind of careful construction of reality in which each of us is constantly engaging in our heads, construction that involves careful choices about what to let in, what to ignore, and what to abhor as impossible or otherwise unreal. The nature of the Law comes in for special scrutiny; as the most unusual and interesting variety of consensual delusion, it is the perfect foil for the delusions and unrealities of (pardon me for using such coarse language, but sometimes one must, to get one's point across) Fairyland.
If at times Lud-in-the-Mist feels a tad too allegorical, the effect is of short duration. One is quickly distracted from this jaundiced view of the book by the characters and their surroundings, that glow with vibrant color and come to such vivid life one might think one has been slipped some fairy fruit onself. Or wish to have been.
*If anyone ever tries to make a feature film of these books (I understand there was a BBC miniseries early this century), I insist Werner Herzog get first crack at it, and that he hypnotize his cast every shooting day like he did for Heart of Glass and has them perform so entranced. But we don't need that to happen, really, because we have Heart of Glass.
Show More
impersonating Susan refers to "a blackish canary" ("canary" as in the sense of "a shade of yellow" rather than that of the bird of that name) as a way of commenting on Scott's refusal to grasp what is really going on and his dismissal thereof as really pretty unimportant anyway... Such a strange phrase, that, I've always wanted to see it in context and see where it came from.Well, now I know. And its source is just as intriguing and maddening and wonderful and mind-bogglingly cool as I had hoped it would be.
Lud-in-the-Mist is one of those open secrets by which real fantasy fans of a certain wistful, thoughtful, poetic type know each other, I think. Originally published in 1926, it dates from the same era that gave us H.P. Lovecraft and Lord Dunsany and Clark Ashton Smith, and shares some of the dreamlike qualities of the best of those writers' work, but has none of the menace and horror. At least not overtly, though, and I rejoice to say it, Mirlees' version of fairies and Fairyland is quite, quite uncanny.
At first the book reminded me more than a little of Mervyn Peake's Gormenghast works, the first of which, Titus Groan, I am about halfway through reading but may not ever finish not so much out of dislike as exhaustion with Peake's "fantasy of manners" and its glacial slowness and hypnotic stolidity* and its near lack of action. But soon I realized that this was an altogether sprightlier work, for all its early chapter concerns with a politically and socially powerful father who regards his son as a mere adjunct or appendage of his own identity.
But then the book comes into its own just as Nathan Chanticleer's young son is suddenly revealed to him as a whole 'nother human being when he stumbles into confessing that he has broken the city of Lud-in-the-Mist's single greatest taboo: he has eaten fairy fruit. Fairy fruit being something between a narcotic and a food exported by the nation that borders Chanticleer's own, that being Fairyland. You know, where fairies are, and magic and stuff. Stuff that has been expunged as thoroughly as possible from memory and consciousness by the middle class of Lud-in-the-Mist as part of their socio-political coup that rid the city of its irrational hereditary aristocracy and its feudalistic ways.
Of course, in ridding the city of its old masters and replacing them with rational, vaguely meritocratic,profit-minded new ones, much was lost, and many did not give it up lightly. Thus a sort of cult in which the last Duke, Aubrey, is basically an avatar of the Green Man, still quietly flourishes in Lud-in-the-Mist and its environs, and lots of secret doings can be traced back to this cult and its adherents, witting and un-. Which is how, of course, the youngest Chanticleer winds up eating fairy fruit and in so doing turn everything possible on its head.
The rest of the plot winds up being almost a cozy mystery as Nathan tries to track down how this unspeakable thing has happened to his (belated) pride and joy. A cozy mystery with truly wonderful grace notes, including astonishingly lovely prose and wonderful insights into the nature of truth, the power of belief, and the limitations of reason. ""Reason, I know, is only a drug, and, as such, its effects are never permanent" says one city father to another. "But, like the juice of the poppy, it often gives a temporary relief."
A lot of Lud-in-the-Mist deals with just that kind of careful construction of reality in which each of us is constantly engaging in our heads, construction that involves careful choices about what to let in, what to ignore, and what to abhor as impossible or otherwise unreal. The nature of the Law comes in for special scrutiny; as the most unusual and interesting variety of consensual delusion, it is the perfect foil for the delusions and unrealities of (pardon me for using such coarse language, but sometimes one must, to get one's point across) Fairyland.
If at times Lud-in-the-Mist feels a tad too allegorical, the effect is of short duration. One is quickly distracted from this jaundiced view of the book by the characters and their surroundings, that glow with vibrant color and come to such vivid life one might think one has been slipped some fairy fruit onself. Or wish to have been.
*If anyone ever tries to make a feature film of these books (I understand there was a BBC miniseries early this century), I insist Werner Herzog get first crack at it, and that he hypnotize his cast every shooting day like he did for Heart of Glass and has them perform so entranced. But we don't need that to happen, really, because we have Heart of Glass.
Show Less
LibraryThing member octoberdad
I know this is a favorite of a lot of people whose opinions I respect, but it didn't strike me. I didn't hear the "Note" of it, I suppose you could say.
LibraryThing member reading_fox
One of those classics that you should read as underpinning so much of what has followed, and unusually for such a book it's actually pretty good in it's own right. LitM is the main town of a small country bordered on side by Fairy, at least as village elders would have it, and no-one who's strayed
These days the office is mostly ceremonial and Nathaniel is quite comfy with his fine wines and high society friends, even if both he and his son occasionally suffer from bouts of paranoia and hysteria over wrought influences from the artistic effects around them. When the son becomes particularly troubled, Nathaniel consults with the curious low-town doctor and the decide to send the son to the country, it happens the doctor knows a smallholding in good standing despite being close to the borders of Fairy. Nathaniel has always had his doubts about the dr, and soon his suspicions are raised regarding some of the other notable characters around town, and despite the militia's good efforts it seems than the pernicious Faery Fruit is still entering town with untold consequences.
Although it's less than a hundred years old, some of the language is already verging on the opaque, but you get the gist well enough. Overall there's a delightful laid back lazy and dreamy feeling to the whole thing. It's somewhat bucolic as might be expected from 1920s view of farming life, but for those who were lucky enough to be born into privilege and power life as a town Mayor is always going to be smooth. It's initially hard to feel any sympathy for Nathaniel but he redeems himself. Compared to modern Urban Fantasy it's very different, the Fairy influence is never overtly described, none of the characters visit Fairy, and there's no direct magic of any form. Although Fairy seems to operate by rules it's not obviously sidhe based as many of the more common stories are, the mythos seems to be something more original or based on other folk-tales that I'm unaware of. There's no bibliography of influences.
I enjoyed this, its described as one of the most underappreciated books of the 20th century, which is probably a little excessive, but it's well worth reading for an appreciation of how the genre has evolved.
Show More
beyond the marshes and into the Hills has ever returned. 200 years ago the land was comfortable with the Fairy influence, but the tradespeople rose up in rebellion for rules of law and equity and the Fairy influence was overthrown and a new Mayor installed instead of the Duke. These days the office is mostly ceremonial and Nathaniel is quite comfy with his fine wines and high society friends, even if both he and his son occasionally suffer from bouts of paranoia and hysteria over wrought influences from the artistic effects around them. When the son becomes particularly troubled, Nathaniel consults with the curious low-town doctor and the decide to send the son to the country, it happens the doctor knows a smallholding in good standing despite being close to the borders of Fairy. Nathaniel has always had his doubts about the dr, and soon his suspicions are raised regarding some of the other notable characters around town, and despite the militia's good efforts it seems than the pernicious Faery Fruit is still entering town with untold consequences.
Although it's less than a hundred years old, some of the language is already verging on the opaque, but you get the gist well enough. Overall there's a delightful laid back lazy and dreamy feeling to the whole thing. It's somewhat bucolic as might be expected from 1920s view of farming life, but for those who were lucky enough to be born into privilege and power life as a town Mayor is always going to be smooth. It's initially hard to feel any sympathy for Nathaniel but he redeems himself. Compared to modern Urban Fantasy it's very different, the Fairy influence is never overtly described, none of the characters visit Fairy, and there's no direct magic of any form. Although Fairy seems to operate by rules it's not obviously sidhe based as many of the more common stories are, the mythos seems to be something more original or based on other folk-tales that I'm unaware of. There's no bibliography of influences.
I enjoyed this, its described as one of the most underappreciated books of the 20th century, which is probably a little excessive, but it's well worth reading for an appreciation of how the genre has evolved.
Show Less
LibraryThing member ragwaine
I don't usually put too much credence into book blurbs by famous authors, but for some reason Gaiman's blurb got my attention and I'm glad it did. This really is amazing stuff. It feels very British and definitely old school. This isn't anything like modern fantasy, it's very subtle and very
It reminded me of [book:The Gormenghast Novels|39058] from Meryvn Peake but more fun; each character was so colorful, they were so absurd in their words and actions that I couldn't help but fall in love with them. The language is archaic and beautiful and that only adds to the feeling of being in a fairy tale you missed while growing up.
Would love to see a BBC adaptation of this.
Show More
character based. The wonder is still there even though there's not magic flying around and there are no epic battles (or actually any battles of any type). The world is simple and needs little description, it's so classic you just kind of find yourself in it without having to read the first six books of the series. It reminded me of [book:The Gormenghast Novels|39058] from Meryvn Peake but more fun; each character was so colorful, they were so absurd in their words and actions that I couldn't help but fall in love with them. The language is archaic and beautiful and that only adds to the feeling of being in a fairy tale you missed while growing up.
Would love to see a BBC adaptation of this.
Show Less
LibraryThing member LastCall
This book is unjustly forgotten at this point. Please go read the book if you are a fan of great fiction.
LibraryThing member mschaefer
A very unusual, highly enjoyable book. Puts me in mind of the later Terry Pratchett (when soft-pedaling the farcical comedy), even if it was written decades before Pratchett was born. With an introduction by Neil Gaiman.
LibraryThing member thatotter
I think this originally went on my to-read list when I was looking for books similar to Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. And there are some major similarities, though this is friendlier, dreamier, and less ambitious.
I found this to be a surprising and interesting read. The tone is really strong and
I found this to be a surprising and interesting read. The tone is really strong and
Show More
consistent. Show Less
LibraryThing member John_Thorne
One of the best fantasy novels of the 20th century.
LibraryThing member whatsmacksaid
This thing was WAY more stressful than I expected it to be. I think it was a combination of the foreshadowing and omniscient narrator--like, the narrator knew as much as the reader did, so why wasn't the narrator trying to warn anyone?!
It's a fun read, though. It's clever and well written, and
It's a fun read, though. It's clever and well written, and
Show More
takes pains to poke fun at the characters' absurdities. Show Less
LibraryThing member mathegudrun
Enchanting tale for everybody. It is surprising how fresh it feels. One never has the feeling that it was written so long ago. Happy that I was pointed to it.
Subjects
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
1926
Physical description
232 p.; 9 inches
ISBN
1434442187 / 9781434442185