If you tire of Lord of the Rings or endless triologies then Mistress of Mistresses is for you. It is set in a fantasy world similar to 16th Century Europe. The book demands concentration, a knowledge of philosophy and poetry. But beware. It will send you off on a lifelong hunt into these fields. You may end up learning Ancient Greek or Latin. You will fall in love with the women and follow the heroes blindly. Read, enjoy and return to. Like a good wine it matures well.

This is a book of unearthly beauty. While I felt that Eddison's THE WORM OUROBOROS was somewhat on the light side, MISTRESS OF MISTRESSES captures the vision of romantic heroism, both in its peaks of joyful experience and its dark ambiguity. It is almost impossible to describe rapture in such a way as to actually evoke it in the reader---Eddison does this not once but several times. Yet looming behind the pleasures of flesh and spirit is a wintry grandeur, a coldness of sheer height and a thanatosis that makes one shiver.

The book begins and ends with death and the plot is standard. There is no character development---the characters are (sometimes literally) archetypes. It is not really a story. It is a vision---a painting that one would gaze at for hours. The value of this book lies in the strength of that vision and the beauty with which it is portrayed.

Leave behind your preconceived notions of science (i.e.: the fact that Mercury is, in fact, hardly a habitable planet), ignore the early awkward inconsistencies (where the heck does Lessingham go after the third chapter?) and simply enjoy this book! This is a truly entrancing and magical fantasy the likes of which I haven't seen since...well, since Eddison tripped off this mortal coil. The faux-Elizabethan prose is more than a bit pretentious, admittedly, but I think it adds a wonderful burst of colour to proceedings. And while the pro-war sentiment dates this a good deal, it's still a wild ride. But, as a result, the lords of Demonland (supposedly the "good guys") don't seem appreciably more or less morally virtuous than those of Witchland. In fact, the lords of Witchland come across as a bit more sympathetic mainly because they are more interesting (i.e.: more developed) characters. Whatever. It's far from perfect, but it's still a damn fine read.

J.R.R. Tolkien wrote that this was the greatest heroic fantasy novel ever written. It's not -- Eddison's own Zimiamvia trilogy is better -- but Tolkien wasn't far off the mark.

It's like a collaboration by Shakespeare, Ariosto, and Homer. Awesome stuff.

The language sometimes gets in the way -- Eddison knew more words than most people and wasn't afraid to use 'em -- and in a couple of places the sheer weight of descriptive prose (of palaces and such) bogs down the action. But wow, this is amazing work.

E. R. Eddison's The Worm Ouroboros is a different sort of book, one that I wouldn't recommend to someone unfamiliar with the fantasy genre. Neither would I recommend this to anyone unprepared to spend some time working out increadibly rich, complex prose. The point is, anyone wishing to read The Worm Ouroboros must be prepared to put some effort into it. For those of you who "skimread," stay away. You'll get lost. In order to enjoy this book, you need to get into it. Enjoy the words and phrases so artfully crafted, a 100 word sentence just flows by, captured indelibly in your imagination. In an age full of hack fiction written for a few lousy bucks from the publishers, The Worm Ouroboros stands as a monument to a time when writing meant something, because the author believed in his (or her) story