A few days ago, an old friend from a book popped into my head and started kicking up dust. I found myself in front of my bookshelves soon after, thumbing through the fantasy and science fiction section (an admittedly large portion of the books in our household fall into this category) until I found the proper volume, cracked it open, and found my friend there waiting for me. “I’ll just read a few pages,” I told myself. “Just a short visit.”
The book is “The Innkeeper’s Song” by Peter S. Beagle. If you recognize his name at all, it’s from the cover of The Last Unicorn -- a fine book to be sure. I’ve read a handful of Mr. Beagle’s books and enjoyed them all, but “The Innkeeper’s Song” ranks up there as one of my favorite books of all time. I’ve read it half a dozen times at least and I’m giving it another go right now.
It’s not the most intellectual book I’ve ever read. It’s neither prophetic nor philosophical in any great sense. It’s just a good tale, with good characters and a good story that stays true to itself from beginning to end. And I’m a sucker for a good story. Spin me a good yarn and I’ll follow you anywhere. I’m not a great traveler by foot -- like a hobbit, I prefer my own garden to the wilds unknown -- but I travel by page whenever I can and this book leads to one of my favorite destinations.
It holds one particular literary distinction, in my humble opinion. In these pages, you’ll meet the only well-written female warrior character I’ve ever encountered. As I’ve said, my fantasy and sci-fi collection is full and varied and these books are fraught with mysterious women on horseback in some form or the other, always concealing a sword in their saddlebags. And I invariably despise them all as poorly written trollops. I found Eowyn to be obnoxious as hell and Susanna not worth the sandlewood guns she carried. But Lal, Lal-Alone, Sailor-Lal... Now, there... And written by a man too. Forgive my sexism that this surprises me.
I’ve had the privilege of meeting the author. Mr. Beagle used to live in Davis and rented a post office box at PDQ where I worked through college. He was one of my favorite customers and a truly nice man. Not the sort of person you’d meet and think to yourself, There are entire worlds inside that one, but so there are.
I confess I almost didn’t post this blog. I hesitated. For then, my friends, you might read this book, and then Lal and Nyaneteri and Lukassa and their world would belong to all of us, and not just to me. Such was my selfish thought. I’m not entirely ashamed of it.
Nonetheless, if you can find a copy of this marvelous tale and you’re in the mood for a good yarn, you have my blessing. It’s been discontinued; in fact it has been so since before I ever discovered it. I found my first copy alone on a dusty shelf at Bogey’s. I’ve found copies since then at Sweet Briar Books as well. I hoard them, you see. Every time I find one on a used bookstore shelf, and I always look, I snatch it up and bestow it upon someone I deem perfectly worthy. I have two copies on my bookshelf right now. One I’d not part with for all the assassins from the south country that might darken my doorstep trying to pry it from my fingers. The other might be available as a loaner, for a fellow traveler who likes a good yarn.
Sunlight on your road, my friends.