Customer Reviews

The Charwoman's Shadow (Del Rey Impact)

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Perhaps less well-known than "The King of Elfland's Daughter", this book is one of two Dunsany works in Iberian settings in a world that never was (the other is "Don Rodriguez"). It is a wonderful fantasy which just flows for the reader. The language is rich, the description powerful - the keen introdction gives a classic example on the art of writing. This is not some basic overused plot but is interesting enough to have been a real legend. Nor is there a simple black & white setup - the hero's opponent is a character of substance who contributes some of the book's great moments. Any lover of good fantastic fiction deserves a read of this kind of book (they're all too rare). Give it a try and keep an eye out for any other Dunsany volumes - this author, gone over forty years now, could show (and has shown) the way for so many today. The sheer volume of compliments from authors of today speaks to the contribution Lord Dunsany made (and still makes). Publishers, any chance or reprinting more of the canon ?

Before Tolkien told his children bedtime stories about hobbits and dwarves, there was Lord Dunsany. One of the early fantasy writers, Dunsany only wrote a few full-length novels -- one of which was the haunting, beautifully-written "Charwoman's Shadow." (And if anyone thinks that J.K. Rowling made up the immortality elixir and "philosopher/sorcerer's stone," they better read this!)

Ramon Alonzo is a young Spanish nobleman sent to find a dowry for his sister Mirandola. He goes to a powerful magician to learn alchemy -- how to turn dross into gold. The magician agrees, at a price: Ramon Alonzo's shadow. At first he's inclined to give up his shadow, but an elderly charwoman warns him not to. She gave up her shadow, and now is shunned by everyone except the magician because if her contact with dark magic.

Eventually Ramon Alonzo agrees to give up his shadow in exchange for a replacement, which turns out to be a dud. His attempts at magic for his sister's sake begin to go horribly wrong, and he finds his very soul in peril as he struggles to fulfil his promise to the charwoman, and get back both of their shadows.

Most of Dunsany's fantasy stories are set in fictional lands full of magic and wizards and gods. This one is slightly different, as it is set in a sort of semi-fictional part of Spain, and magic is something which seeps naturally to great evil. But the entire world it's set in has the same sort of fantastical edge that his books usually do. Kids with a good attention span can read this, though some may be bored by the gradual pace and flowery language. And the language is very flowery. Dunsany writes in his standard dreamy prose, with a lot of very strange imagery (like the charwoman scrubbing a bloodstained floor stone, or Ramon Alonzo's fake shadow getting up and racing away).

Ramon Alonzo is a nice leading character -- he's a good guy who gets enmeshed in bad things for good reasons. His spiritual struggle and chivalrous rescue of the charwoman Anemone and her shadow are central to the plot. Anemone herself remains a mystery for most of the book, although one development is rather obvious early on. The magician is a cold, unsympathetic character who "scorns salvation" and shows no pity to someone he's wronged. Father Joseph serves as the counterbalance for the magician, a kindly priest who helps Ramon Alonzo out.

A beautiful story about love, magic, and kindness, this is a must-read for fans of classic fantasy. See why Dunsany is still one of the best.

Edward John Moreton Drax Plunkett, better and more succinctly known by his title, Lord Dunsany (pronounced "done-SANEY"), is perhaps the most important British fantasy author to appear before Tolkien. Lord Dunsany's work has little connection to Tolkien's except that both create feelings of wonder in readers that whisk them away to fantastic worlds. Dunsany's work has a less realistic, more ethereal quality than Tolkien's, and draws strongly on the traditional fairy-tale, while at that same time energizing the simplicity of the fairy-tale with his sense of drama (Dunsany was also a playwright) and with his magnificent, fluid, beautiful writing. His 1927 novel, "The Charwoman's Shadow," is one of his greatest works, second only to "The King of Elfland's Daughter."

Edward Plunkett was born in 1878, became the 18th Lord Dunsany upon the death of his father in 1899, and made an unsuccessful attempt to run for parliament in 1904. With his failure in politics, he began writing his stories of the fantastic, beginning with the collection (currently in-print) "The Gods of Pegana." He enjoyed great literary success and acclaim until his death in 1957, but sadly, at the end of the century, his literature seemed in danger of vanishing from the minds of all but ardent fantasy historians and those who could afford the out-of-print volumes containing his work. But Dunsany has suddenly roared back into print; if you're a lover of fantasy, you cannot miss "The Charwoman's Shadow." It ranks as one of finest novels of the fantastic.

The story takes place in a fantasy vision of medieval Spain: "Picture an evening sombre and sweet over Spain, the glittering sheen of leaves fading to somberer colours...Picture the Golden Age past its wonderful zenith, and westering now towards its setting." Young Ramon Alonzo goes to learn the One True Art -- the art of magic -- from a master magician who lives in an old house in the woods. The Master requires a fee, however: Don Alonzo's shadow. The boy surrenders it, believing it is of no use to him. But even as he advances himself in the magic arts, he soon learns there are serious consequences to losing your shadow. An old charwoman who works for the Master seeks Don Alonzo's aid, for she too lost her shadow many years ago to the Master, and she desires it back. The two enter an alliance, one that Don Alonzo starts to regret when he discovers the youthful beauty of the old charwoman's shadow.

There are no action set-pieces in "The Charwoman's Shadow," no epic battles, no swarms of monsters and demons, but every sequence in the book is full of unforgettable images and beauty. The scene of re-attaching the shadow makes the book a masterpiece on its own; it reduced me to tears the first time I read it. Lord Dunsany will remind you of no other writer, and you'll thrill to discover his unique take on fantasy, feeling if you were sharing a secret private encounter.

Dunsany's word magic pulses stronger than any of the actual magic that appears in the book. In fact, the book is really about the power of language itself; we spend time with Don Alonzo pouring over words and learning their secrets. As Peter S. Beagle (author of "The Last Unicorn") says in his brief but powerful introduction, Dunsany had "an understanding that the right name for a character can imply an entire culture, a history, a music, a world; that a single word chosen properly can persuade a reader that he shares a folklore he can't possibly know...To open this book is, like Don Ramon Alonzo, to begin learning the true nature of enchantment from a master."

I can't give a better recommendation than that, so I will only second him: open this book and fall deep into the fantasy of language.

Those approaching Dunsany because of his reputation as a proto-fantasy writer (in the sense we now use "fantasy" to decribe a genre) are bound to be disappointed. Happily, he hails from an age before such labels solidified into something restrictive, and his intoxicating prose can be regarded as "fantastic" in its looser sense. He was also a good deal more versatile than the description "fantasy-writer" would suggest, at one point with five plays being staged concurrently on Broadway.

The reviewer who cites Dunsany's dreamy style hits closer to the mark. Dunsany is not about plot. He is all about atmosphere, and the joy of language. Here, as elsewhere, there is a heavy perfume in the air, and an admitted stream-of-consciousness at work. If details seem to appear out of nowhere, it is probably because they do. It is part of what makes Dunsany so fascinating. The reader is aware of a fecund imagination spontaneously drawing connections with every sentence. This is unfettered inspiration at work, and it is refreshing in a day when conformity (and bland prose) rules to encounter a writer so obviously delighting in his own personal muse. Yes, certain cells recur, mantra-like, simulating the rhythm of the ancient epics. It is the structure of instinct. Remember, Dunsany was an unrepentent anachronist, setting down all of his flowery, wonderful inspirations with a quill. He was also an Irishman, and as such, of an apparent genetic predisposition to unspool beautifully-crafted tales.

Comparisons to Tolkien are useless, and do a grave disservice to Dunsany's art. In Tolkien you find myth; in Dunsany, fable. His writings are not writings for children, as some have suggested (although I suspect children unspoiled by too much Gameboy would enjoy them), but rather fairy stories penned for adults. One needs have lived long enough to have experienced regret, and nostalgia, of the retreat of the fantastic from the more prosaic world of "maturity," to fully appreciate the special bittersweet qualities that inform most of Dunsany's fiction.

I haven't checked if it is still in print, but those who enjoy this work should definitely try and locate a copy of "Don Rodriguez: Chronicles of Shadow Valley," as it has much in common. In fact, I find it slightly perverse for Del Rey not to have published it first, as a knowledge of "Rodriguez" enriches one's understanding of the novel under consideration. You will learn more about the bowmen, and experience further enchantment (and romance) in Dunsany's imaginative Spain.

What's more, it may be the finer book.

I enjoyed this book a lot more than his better known "King of Elfland's Daughter". I found the plot much different than anything else available in the fantasy market today. Certainly it is a different take on the "boy meets girl, boy gets girl" storyline. I thoroughly recommend it.

It is easy too see how Dunsany might have influenced such potent imaginations as H.P. Lovecraft and J.R.R. Tolkien (among others). "The Charwoman's Shadow" - originally published in 1926 - is a novel rich with the best possibilities of the fantasy genre. That is not to pigeonhole the book as a fantasy novel only - for like all true art, it transcends genre.

The tale of young Ramon Alonzo is so deftly woven that it reads like a fable in some ancient book of lore. Dunsany possessed a sense of the fantastic that was both whimsical and profound. He also possessed a mastery of language which enabled him to fashion an entire world, culture, history, with only a few poetic turns of phrase. The Golden Age of Spain created thus in "The Charwoman's Shadow" resonates with the power of myth.

"The Charwoman's Shadow" is a classic. Kudos to Del Rey for making it accessible.

So the best part of the novel is the climatic scene where Ramon Alonzo stands on top of the magician's tower, with arcane forces crackling around him and demands in his most booming voice, "Return yon shadow to me, foul wizard, or you shall perish in the shadows of Hell!" It's just so action packed and-

-and it never really happens. I'm just kidding. There's maybe one scene of action in the book at all and the book is all the more awesome for it.

For those just tuning in, Lord Dunsany was probably way cooler than you or I, and not just because he's a lord, could kick our butts in chess, and hung out with royalty the same way that I wait in line at the deli counter. No, he's cool because he understands magic. He GETS it. And not in the way of many writers today, who throw a few fancy nmaes on things, make some sparkly nifty battles and assume that it covers everything. Maybe even summon a demon for good measure.

No, what makes magic work is that it's magical. It's not of here and yet has to be utterly inherent to the world itself, existing on the same layer and slightly apart, something that you don't quite see until you discover the right way to stare at it. You don't need a magic portal or some kind of weird scepter to get in, just a certain level of acceptance. Magic should feel strange in the same way that watching a Venus Fly Trap kill something for the first time is strange, because it's utterly unearthly and inescapably part of this world at the same time. You can explain it, but that doesn't make it any more normal. But it is natural.

Dunsany understood this, and that's why fantasy writers then and now look to him when they want to really capture that feeling, the sensation just before the sun goes down on a summer's dusk and how that seconds seems to hover unerringly into the clasp of forever. With "King of Elfland's Daughter" he discussed the intersection between magical and mundane, and how one could be mistaken for the other. Here, he shows us the hidden angles of magic and how the most important parts of yourself are the ones you think you wouldn't miss, until you find out that isn't true.

Ramon Alonzo needs to make money fast for his family, because his sister needs to build up her dowry (being fifteen, she's practically an old maid . . . different times, children) . . . so his father sends him to an old magician that his father taught how to hunt boars years ago. The magician is more than willing to help, for one simple price . . . Ramon's shadow. Not such a bad deal, Ramon thinks.

Except the weird charwoman who keeps scrubbing the floors starts weeping uncontrollably every time he mentions it to her, lamenting the loss of her own shadow. Still, where's the harm?

Dunsany, through the magic of prose, manages to take something completely mundane, that most of us probably fail to notice time and again, and turn it into such a vital part of ourselves that you will feel that something has gone wrong on a cloudy day when you can't see your shadow anymore. The loss of Ramon's shadow, when it comes (and its poor replacement) feels akin to abject horror in its impact so that you wind up screaming at the book "Don't do it, you fool!"

Yet, the magician never comes off as evil, merely methodical. He likes shadows and people like to learn about stuff he doesn't care about, so it's an even trade. Distracted by learning, the struggle doesn't become so much between Ramon and the magician so much as whether Ramon will be able to unravel what is going on and get everyone's shadows back before its' too late and children run screaming from him forever. To this end, Dunsany achieves the fantastic trick of turning a scene of Ramon reciting syllables over and over again to try to figure out which Chinese character unlocks the cask into an actual scene of tension. This is a rare feat.

But again, he takes what should be mundane and pulls it through the eyes of others, so that simple writing and reading become more fascinating that unicorns and trolls. Conveying a sense of wonder from such cloth isn't really that easy, contiuning to ignite that sense in people nearly a hundred years after the book was published speaks to how well Dunsany works the various threads that go into his writings.

His prose is typically poetic, with his turns of phrase graceful and elegant and exactly what the scene requires, nothing more or less. It's amazing in itself, especially in how he conjures a long ago Spain that never really existed (it's worth considering whether Miles Davis' "Sketches of Spain" is an appropriate soundtrack), imbuing a fictional place with enough of a magical sense that when the magic finally goes right at the end, it feels like the passing of an era, even though it was never real.

Yes, you can probably guess what's going to happen between Ramon and the charwoman, but Dunsany still has some twists left and it's interesting that the struggle between Ramon and the magician isn't the object of the story. It's the relationships, it's taking what you have and using it to get what you want, without resorting to dark arts. You win because your heart is true and you are clever and that is what matters, although it helps to be lucky. The journey is just as important as the getting there and it's telling that when the story ends we feel some measure of elation and also sadness, for a land with an extra invisible layer of sunlight stripped away, where the shadows dance that much less even as certain people clutch them ever tighter to their heels, knowing them more precious than ever the finest gold.

Before Tolkien told his children bedtime stories about hobbits and dwarves, there was Lord Dunsany. One of the early fantasy writers, Dunsany only wrote a few full-length novels -- one of which was the haunting, beautifully-written "Charwoman's Shadow," a story that slips into the grey place between good and evil.

Ramon Alonzo is a young Spanish nobleman sent to find a dowry for his sister Mirandola. He goes to a powerful magician to learn alchemy -- how to turn dross into gold. The magician agrees, at a price: Ramon Alonzo's shadow. At first he's inclined to give up his shadow, but an elderly charwoman warns him not to. She gave up her shadow, and now is shunned by everyone except the magician because if her contact with dark magic.

Eventually Ramon Alonzo agrees to give up his shadow in exchange for a replacement, which turns out to be a dud. His attempts at magic for his sister's sake begin to go horribly wrong, and he finds his very soul in peril as he struggles to fulfil his promise to the charwoman, and get back both of their shadows.

Most of Dunsany's fantasy stories are set in fictional lands full of magic and wizards and gods. This one is slightly different, as it is set in a sort of semi-fictional part of Spain, and magic is something which leads to evil. But the plot in this book has the same sort of otherworldly edge that his more fantastical works do. (Although if any Harry Potter fans think that Rowling created the "philosopher's stone," they'll be sadly disappointed)

It has a straightforward plot, which is made more elaborate by his flowery prose. Dunsany was one of those writers who dwelled on the more beautiful details of his stories, and as a result, "Charwoman's Shadow" has the feeling of a dream. Especially in scenes where really strange things happen, like the charwoman scrubbing a bloodstained floor stone, or Ramon Alonzo's fake shadow getting up and racing away.

Ramon Alonzo is a good hero -- he's a nice guy who gets enmeshed in bad things for good reasons. The charwoman Anemone herself remains a mystery for most of the book, although one development is rather obvious early on. And the other two characters show the good vs. evil struggle: Father Joseph, a kindly priest, and the cold, cruel magician who "scorns salvation" and shows no pity to someone he's wronged.

"The Charwoman's Shadow" is not only an early fantasy novel, but also an exquisite little story of love, magic and kindness. Definitely worth checking out.

It is impossible to summarize this story without giving away the plot twists, but it is soundly constructed, with wonderful images. I prefer it to the better-known King of Elfland's Daughter. It shimmers on the borderland between here and elsewhere, going from earthy reality to magical fantasy and back in the space of a few sentences.

Lord Dunsany (1878-1957) was, among many other notable accomplishments, a highly regarded writer of fantasy fiction. "The Charwoman's Shadow" is the second book I have read by Dunsany, the other being the highly regarded "King of Elflands Daughter".

The "The Charwoman's Shadow" is a well-crafted story set in medieval Spain. Our hero Ramon Alonzo is apprenticed to a magician in order to learn how to turn stones into gold. You see the family estate has fallen on hard times and his sister's dowry chest is empty therefore Ramon is charged by his father to acquire skills in the black arts. Nothing good is ever gained from trafficking with sorcery and Ramon needs his wits, luck and some help from Father Joseph to outsmart the magician.

The story is interesting to a point, but it is the glorious use of language and pacing that makes this book a most rewarding reading experience.

I found the character of the magician very interesting and nuanced. When Ramon questions the loss of his soul the magician confidently tells him of the worthy reward he will receive if he fully developes his skills in the black arts: 'you will walk through Hell a flaming object of awe and reverence veneration while all abase themselves as you go by faces low in the cinders - an apparition of glory, and among the first of all the splendors of Hell." No wonder Ramon eludes the magician and returns to the land of light.

Books classified as "fantasy" have been a mainstay of my reading interest for many years. I will not attempt to define just what constitutes "fantasy" except to say if you read it you will know it and will never inquire again. I must admit that so far my readings do not venture into the modern authors whose works seem to be taking over increasing amounts of space on the retail bookshelves.

As anyone who develops an interest in a particular subject or themes will eventually read comments or opinions by other aficionados and authors. The one author that keeps being recommended is Lord Dunsany. During the period 1960-1975 the recommendations were usually followed by the disclaimed that, oh well, he's a great author, but none of his wonderful fiction has ever been published in the US. Fortunately this situation has changed but you still have to troll the Internet to find his books but thankfully they are available.