Knee Deep in Thunder by Sheila Moon. I initially read this title a couple of years after its 1967 publication, signing it out of my elementary school library. It was my first real exposure to fantasy, and I found it enthralling. Maris, a young girl, is transported to another world with her dog, Scuro, by a mysterious rock she finds (so, what we today refer to as a portal fantasy, though I doubt the term was around back in the Dark Ages of my youth). Scuro can talk in this new world, as can several dog-sized insects she encounters and travels with on her quest. It’s a world of deep, empty places marred by the threat from shrieking Beasts who must be reclaimed and brought back into harmony with the guardians of the world. Accompanied by exquisitely detailed pen and ink illustrations by Peter Parnell, the story enthralled me. Fifty years later, I tracked down two more companion volumes --- I guess they qualify as sequels, though I found them hugely disappointing and quite lacking the original’s charm and wonder… just recycled ideas from the first book.
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. My mother bought the book for me, and ironically, given how massive Tolkien’s literary influence on me has been, I seem to recall not being bothered to finish it at first. But I’ve always been reluctant to mark a book DNF --- it offends my concrete-sequential nature to do that --- so I returned to it, was this time entranced, and wasted no time in finding its ‘sequel,’ The Lord of the Rings, which I read during the summer between grades six and seven. So I suppose you’re getting a bonus sixth book on this list, because it’s really not too hyperbolic to say that LOTR was a life-changing experience for me, even at the tender young age of 12. I read it during our family summer holiday trip, and night after night, I was absorbed by it as we sat by the family campfire. An entire world! With languages! And a tale which held me spellbound! If you want to know who my literary daddy is… yeah, it’s Tolkien.
Deryni Rising (and its myriad prequels and sequels) by Katherine Kurtz. After LOTR, I was actively on the lookout for fantasy titles --- though there really weren’t that many in the early 1970s, which I suppose people today would find a strange state of affairs. But along came Ms. Kurtz, with her tale of a 14-year-old boy-king named Kelson, just recently orphaned when his father was mysteriously murdered. Set in a very medieval fantasy world called Gwynedd, the first book concerns Kelson’s attempts to stabilize his rule and bring to justice the person responsible for killing his father. The main wrinkle of the book is that some humans --- the Deryni --- have all sorts of powers of magic and the mind which regular humans lack. Unfortunately, because they’re different, the Deryni are a persecuted lot; once upon a time, they ruled Gwynedd, but their rule was overthrown and now they tend to keep a pretty low profile, because the Church tends to look on them as devilspawn. And guess who just happens to be Deryni? These books were powerful influences shaping my emerging fantasy knowledge.
The Crystal Cave (and its sequels, The Hollow Hills, The Last Enchantment, and The Wicked Day) by Mary Stewart. Still, I think, one of the best retellings of the Arthurian legend I’ve ever encountered. I was severely disappointed by T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, by the way, which isn’t a popular opinion, I know, but I’ll go further and say categorically that White’s limp excuse for a tale can’t hold a candle against Mary Stewart’s, which is far richer, deeper, full of magic and imagery and history, oh my.
Kavin’s World, by David Mason. This virtually forgotten tale, along with its supremely unimaginatively-titled sequel (The Return of Kavin… like, really dude? That’s the best you could do?) is an odd blending of fantasy and science fiction, which has always been my other great literary love. Mason creates this world of medieval kingdoms, then weaves in things like other-world gates and acts of so-called magic which tend to bear out Arthur C. Clarke’s well-known saying that ‘any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ Despite the fact that I suspect these two books will show up on very few lists of readers’ favourites… they were quite well-written and engaging.
Needless to say, I’ve owned all these titles for many more years than I’d care to admit --- for proof, all you have to do is look at the prices on the covers in the photo at the top of this post… it’s been a year or two since people were paying 95 cents, or $1.50, or even $2.95, for a paperback which wasn’t motheaten in some decrepit secondhand bookstore. But I purchased and read all these books between the ages of… oh, I’d say, 11 and 16. They’ve stayed with me, literally and metaphorically, and they’ve had a profound impact on my understanding and appreciation of the fantasy genre --- not to mention influence on my writing style, influence which continues to this day.
So come to Middle Earth (or any of these other worlds), fantasy lovers! You have nothing to lose but your disillusionment with our own mortal and rather drab world.