A couple of weeks ago, my family descended on State Street for Small Business Saturday, a tradition for us. We rode the Christmas Trolley, ate lunch at Nick's, and shopped. Of course, we hit the used bookstores at the university end of the street. I picked up a copy of a book I'd recently borrowed from the library and instantly fell in love with (The Shadow of The Wind, the subject of a future review), and this little 1970's fantasy gem.
The older I get, the more I love to read 1970's fantasy. It used to be so easy: you'd plunk down your buck seventy-five and bring home a 200-page book that you could zip through in a day. Nowadays, you practically need to take a leave of absence to plough through multiple 800-page monstrosities, and you know what? The older I get, the less I appreciate cumbersome backstory. Get on with the actual story, already. I ain't getting any younger.
Nostalgia… as a kid, every book I read was a wonderland of never-before-encountered fantasy goodness, and I loved them all (except for Quag Keep, which was the first time I threw a book across the room and yelled "What the stupid-ass fuck was THAT?!?", and the Circle of Light series, which unbeknownst to me was a Buddhist allegory hidden beneath Tolkienesque wrapping paper). So now whenever I encounter one of these old forgotten books, I snatch it up with glee.
I'd never heard of this book, which is even more fun. It's a nice little fantasy land with sturdy Norse foundations. Thorgrim, a noble young warrior, learns that his family has been burned alive by Uncle Badass' power play and has to run for it. Oh, and also he has to find some magical helmet that apparently dooms anyone who uses it. Along the way, he makes some good buddies, goes berserk once or twice, loses his virginity with a high priestess (don't they all?), gets captured by pirates… and then (SPOILER) spends most of the climax of the book watching other people fight. He does rescue the priestess, though, and acquires a shady-but-wise dude as a sidekick (don't they all?). He makes zero progress finding his Magic Hat. Nothing new here, really, even for 1979.
But it clocks in at 178 pages, and this is what's beautiful about it. Bailey doesn't have time to fuck around, and he drops in just enough backstory for you to have a basic grasp of the history, geography, and relevant pantheon of deities of the place. Even though there are a few slow spots (I could not for the life of me figure out the steep cliffs/ waterfall/lake situation that their boat has to navigate through – it was truly confusing), for the most part we get whisked through one scene to another with purpose, alacrity, a bit of travelogue, and basic fantasy goodness.
Now, why is it called The Sword of the Nurlingas? Well, Thorgrim has a fancy sword, and he's a Nurlinga. That's all I know.
This was trumpeted on the cover to be the first book of the SAGA OF THORGRIM. Lo and behold, Internet searching reveals there was a sequel, the Sword of Poyana (which I believe is the kingdom he was headed to at the end of the first book). If you ever see a copy, send it my way. I'm dying to know what happens.