The Best Fantasy Novel You’ve Never Heard Of – Lud-in-the-Mist Review

Fantasy Staple or Hidden Gem?

There was a time where it felt like I couldn’t read a fantasy book without also reading about Lud-in-the-Mist. Whether it was in an introduction, an author biography or the Wikipedia page of the book I was currently reading, there would invariably be a mention of Hope Mirrlees’ only fantasy novel and the influence it had on all fantasy novels that followed. Neil Gaiman has frequently mentioned how much influence the text has had on his work, and it was this that prompted me to buy it myself. In fact, Gaiman wrote the introduction to my edition of Lud, where he lauded the novel as “one of the finest in the English language”. But beyond being frequently in the mouths and minds of writers I enjoy, I had never heard of this book – never seen it in any ‘Top 100’ list or a video essay on Youtube – and so I can see why this book has gained the reputation of ‘hidden gem’. In fact, though widely available in book shops now, there was even a period when it went out of print. 

Originally published in 1926, the idea of a pre-Tolkein fantasy novel is intriguing, but I was surprised by how much it defies (what are now) standard fantasy tropes. We aren’t taken to an ancient land full of magic – we’re shown one, but we skirt around it for the most part, as our very reasonable protagonist, Nathaniel Chanticleer, and the inhabitants of Lud-in-the-Mist decide it’s best to stay well away from Fairy Land as much as possible. Nathaniel is the mayor of Lud-in-the-Mist, where Fairy Land is a taboo subject and just saying the word ‘Fairy’ is shocking enough to ruin a reputation. Which makes it very inconvenient for Nathaniel when his own two children are suspected of eating fairy fruit – a forbidden food that supposedly corrupts the consumer, and often leads to their ostracism from the rest of the town. 

This changes the course of Nathaniel’s life in a way that is unwanted for him, and surprising for any readers expecting the usual fantasy narrative. Nat isn’t a young man seeking adventure – he isn’t brave or particularly clever or kind. He’s an older man with an established career, a wife and children, and in fact all his bravest acts are in the name of necessity & duty to his family, rather than a lust for adventure. This family focus was surprising but endearing, except for the fact that despite both of his children being at risk to the influence of fairies, Nathaniel makes it very clear that his son is the only one worth saving or chasing after, and his daughter becomes mostly an after thought – actually, most of the young ladies of Lud-in-the-Mist are treated as little more than ‘silly’ girls with so little intelligence that succumbing to “vice” of fairy fruit is considered, “perhaps the best thing that could have happened” to them. Awful sexism aside, these family and friendship issues make the story feel far removed from the typical problems of the heroes we are used to, a.k.a dragons, evil wizards and so on.  At a certain point in the story, you could probably even convince me that I wasn’t reading a fantasy novel at all, as it shifts into more of a murder mystery – which was right up my alley, but perhaps this explains why this book has flown under the fantasy radar for so many. 

It’s this ambiguity that makes Lud compelling – it’s a book about fairies where no one does any magic, it’s whimsical and weird in a very straightforward way, pivoting between long, evocative descriptions of nature that slow the story down and discourse on the function of law and legislature, which though insightful, does make for some dry reading. But it’s how Mirrlees is able to repeatedly reconcile those contrasts and show that concepts completely at odds are also dependent on each other to exist that makes this a fascinating read, and creates the overall feeling that nothing is ever what it seems. 

VERDICT 

Lud-in-the-Mist must be read slowly to be truly enjoyed. It’s perfect for people looking for less lore and more philosophy in their fantasy world. Hope Mirrlees explores the principles of magic and reason without ever telling us what to think and, much like fairy land, the heart of this book remains elusive and foggy – a little frightening, but wonderful all the same.