Where It's Brilliant but Lacking

The Knight of the Swords by Michael Moorcock
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I first read this, along with many other books by Michael Moorcock, about 40 years ago. I loved them so much then. They don't strike me with as much force anymore.

I used to be in love with Moorcock's language. So much of it was new to me--the vocabulary, the cadences, the diction--and I found it captivating, even transporting. The stories were equally exotic and fantastic to me. Many years of reading fantasy, though, has rendered most of it commonplace, or near to it, and has stripped away most of the romance. Reading it now, with older eyes, I see more clearly the thin, episodic plot, the flat characters, and the half-baked setting and feel some disappointment. Yes, it's often still wildly inventive, filled with so many cool ideas and images--but the amazing world-building I remember is an illusion, owing more to that lush, overflowing creativity than completeness or careful planning. IMO, the world doesn't make sense. It feels like a stage with two dimensional sets that don't stand up to close scrutiny, or a board game that has been set up with its pieces in random places and then put into motion with a roll of dice on page 1.

I liked it. I still believe the author is gifted and shows flashes of brilliance. But I can't love it like I once did.

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