[Though I wrote it myself, I advise all readers to treat this review with caution. I know not what I was saying (in at least one paragraph anyway...)].
Many a merry evening have I spent at The Crippled Bee pricking my pale fingers on the thorny issue of whether or not wizards and great literature will ever co-exist. No sooner has this debate died down (or been left to smoulder in a corner somewhere, along with yesterday’s headlines) another one starts up. What about elves? I don’t know what you think, but I’m not altogether keen on these forest-dwelling pioneers of freakish ears and bobble-crested headgear. The same applies to dwarves, fairies, talking trees and pixies. With only two exceptions, I would not shed a tear if all books containing these creatures were gathered together in a sack, taken on a tiresomely long journey and flung into a stream of lava at the centre of a dramatically volcanic mountain.
The first exception is, of course, Olav Blomquist’s Groaning Pixies. Nothing more need be said of this novel. The second is Ik Nunn’s From Under This Falls. Quite a lot more will be said about this one. Read the rest of this entry »
