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![]() ![]() I remember the story as being pleasantly swampy, and involving big swords, at least one lizard-monster, and monolithic architecture. Previously, I’d only read one other bit of Dunsany – one of his short stories, likewise in a Shippey anthology that I picked out in high school. The King of Elfland’s Daughter is a dreamy, colorful, exceedingly British literary fairy-story for adults it’s a crucial antecedent to the Lord of the Rings, Lovecraft, and other early purveyors of rich prose and high fantasy. I’d been meaning to read this ever since I started delving into Tolkieniana in high school, and saw it discussed in one of Tom Shippey’s essay collections, and finally invested in a personal copy when Seek Books liquidated a few years ago (alaaaas). ‘We would be ruled by a magic lord,’ they said. ![]() ![]() And yet the generations stream away, and there is no new thing.’ ‘For seven hundred years the chiefs of your race have ruled us well and their deeds are remembered by the minor minstrels, living on yet in their little tinkling songs. He leaned in his carven chair and heard their spokesman. In their ruddy jackets of leather that reached to their knees the men of Erl appeared before their lord, the stately white-haired man in his long red room. ![]()
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