So now I'm reading E. R. Eddison's The Worm Ouroboros as one does, and it's rather like sitting down with an entire cheesecake; no matter how good your appetite, there's a limit to just how much cheesecake you can have at one go.
A friend pointed out to me that the language is not immune to parody:
(Lord Juss and Brandoch Daha, along with the one of
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Have you read the other two? I read The Worm years ago and did enjoy it, but never managed to get to the others, though I still have them. Reading Eddison may be analogous to climbing Mount Fuji (you should do it once before you die, but you'd be mad to do it more than once, or wtte).
You have a wonderful typo there: "never looked upon the face of nan." Holy tortilla, Batman!
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