When I was but a beardless lad my pals and I would get together and play Dungeons & Dragons. Being a studious little fellow I would delve into inspirational literature in the sword & sorcery genre. I read some of the greats, some of the pretty goods, and a lot of the really cheesy; I enjoyed them all. I remember having read the first book of the Elric series, Elric of Melniboné by Michael Moorcock. I guess it didn’t make that great an impression on me, as I never read beyond that.
This year I’ve been doing some research into a literary theme, and that work led me back to Elric. I re-read that first book and continued with the other five books in the original saga.
I’ve read that Moorcock intended to turn sword & sorcery upside down by creating, in Elric, an anti-hero who was the opposite of the genre’s foremost archetype, Robert E. Howard’s Conan. Conan is physically strong, Elric is so weak and sickly that he must rely on drugs or other means to live. Conan is a big, hairy, manly guy, where Elric is a wispy albino whose beauty is described in almost feminine terms. Conan is, of course, a barbarian, terrified of sorcery, who climbs from obscurity to a position of wealth and power. When we meet Elric he is the young emperor of his people, a powerful sorcerer of a race of sorcerers. His career goes in the opposite direction.
When I began my re-read I could recall only two images from my youthful acquaintance with Elric: I remembered the protagonist himself, thin, impossibly pale, with red eyes and a terrible black sword (more on that later), and I remembered the astounding decadence of his people, the Melnibonéans. The image I took with me was of a choir of slaves. Each slave’s vocal cords had been surgically altered so that he could produce only one note. They were then arranged to form the components of a musical instrument of torture. When they were whipped in a precise arrangement their screams of pain came together to create an exquisite music of agony. To me this is a perfect illustration of the artistic amorality of Elric’s people.
Elric himself is a little different. He may not be amoral enough for his own good. He is still driven by Melnibonéan passions and possesses Melnibonéan cruelty, but he is also brooding, trying to understand the new concepts of ethics and compassion that he has heard of from the new kingdoms of men. In the treacherous court in which he lives, this may be a fatal weakness.
I’ll spare you the details of plot, as I’m not one for spoilers. Let’s just say that the play of swords and sorcery are a big part of Elric’s career. He loses a kingdom, he gains a kingdom, he loses a kingdom . . . he loves, he loses, he grieves . . . he leads great battles, he wins, he loses, he survives . . . let’s just say it’s a full life.
In Elric’s world good and evil are hardly considered. The great cosmic battle that consumes lives and kingdoms is that between the forces of law and chaos. These themes are personified by various demons, demigods, and elementals. The world is their battlefield, and Elric resents feeling a pawn in their great game. This doesn’t stop him from using his sorcery to call on their power to help him in great need, but as the saga goes on he becomes increasingly frustrated. Elric acknowledges that he may think too much for his own contentment, but he seeks after answers that are beyond even his gods.
Poor Elric. A thinking man’s fantasy anti-hero, a rock & roll icon, he is trapped in a role not of his choosing. As the series continues the reader learns that the albino prince is a manifestation of “The Eternal Champion.” In Michael Moorcock’s imagining the universe is split into an infinite number of iterations, a “multiverse.” Throughout time, space, and infinite dimensions there always appears a hero. He always has certain characteristics. He is always a great warrior, a leader of men. He often has a partner or sidekick. These partners are often versions of the Warrior also. All but one of them are unaware that they have lived and will live these other lives in other realities. They don’t seem to have much of a choice; they must take on the mantle of champion. And most of them have a famous or powerful sword.
Elric, the physically weakest of them all, holds the most powerful of weapons. The enormous black-bladed Stormbringer makes Elric virtually invincible in battle. The weapon seems to be sentient, and it is hungry for blood and souls. When it kills it doesn’t simply slice a man, it drinks his soul into itself. It gives some of that strength and life-force to its wielder, so Elric remains strong and vital. Perhaps wielder wasn’t the right word. Sometimes it is hard to say who is the master, sword or swordsman. When the thirst for souls is on it and Elric does battle, Stormbringer seems to take over, directing the sword hand, moving with preternatural speed and accuracy. But all this power has a price. Stormbringer seems to love the blood of those Elric loves most of all.
While this series totally rocks and should be required reading for fantasy fans, I do have one serious criticism. Time and again Elric is in dire straits. Certain doom stares him in his thin white face. Nothing can possibly save him now. But at the last moment he uses a barely remembered and terribly convenient bit of sorcery and calls upon some supernatural being to get him out of the jam. Story after story, book after book, deus ex machina just stumble over each other to help him continue the saga.
Still, it’s great stuff – big, bold, and fun, beautiful and terrible, vividly imagined, told with verve and charm. It’s a pity the cheap paperback versions are out of print right now, but you can pick them up at used bookstores or on the net for short money. You could get it at the library in Tanelorn, but good luck finding that.
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