“[As fables for morality], no emergent wisdom is found in these pages.”

A lot of folks are disappointed in this work because it doesn’t form a coherent story, and–like many reviewers–I tend to take a book on for what it is more than what I want it to be. A precursor to later works by Lovecraft and Tolkien in its lushness in forming a mythology with authentic tone, diction, and imagery, I can understand the poetic power of the reading. And, at times, I was enjoying the elusive riddles it offered in these pseudo-tales that introduced various gods and prophets across its fictional lands.

That said, my disappointment in the reading is more about its purpose. To what end do we create this mythology? If we shrug it off as merely an experiment, then the question follows: interesting as an idea, but what attraction to read it? A lot of writers experiment. So what of it?

What we have is a “pretty” collection of tales with pseudo-mysticism attached. The imagery is not entirely consistent, the riddles alternatively posed, but no emergent wisdom is found in these pages. Contrast this, for instance to the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (which offers real wisdom or consolation to its readers) or to the Silmarillion (which offers tales which echo classical themes).

I keep using the prefix pseudo- because this brief work doesn’t quite aspire to anything but these sketches of interest to Dunsany. From what I know, he did nothing more with them. And, neither will I.