The Myth of the Myth.

Recently I read perhaps one of the most profound works of literature that I have ever laid eyes upon. Considered a classic of the fantasy genre, The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle is, in my thoughts, the perfect fairy tale. It is far more than its title or plot might reveal. The simple of the story is that of a unicorn who journeys to go and find the rest of her kind. Along the way she meets Schmendrick, a failed magician with a great destiny, and Molly Grue, a brusque bandit woman, and they journey together to find the unicorns.

But the brilliance of this novel lies not in its plot, but in its amazing moments of revelation. Throughout the story, there seems to be this idea that the Unicorn (and other Immortal beings) are "more real" than the world around them. For example, when the Unicorn is captured by Madame Fortuna, Schmendrick notes the witch's mistake in capturing two Immortals: "She should have never done it, never meddled with a real harpy, a real unicorn. The truth melts her magic, always..." (The Last Unicorn, 26)

This idea is epitomized in a brilliant discussion between Schmendrick and Molly Grue. Schmendrick, as wizards often do in fantasy novels (see Fizban, &c.), breaks the fourth wall and says:

"...'Haven't you ever been in a fairy tale before? ... The hero has to make a prophecy come true, and the villain is the one who has to stop him -- though in another kind of story, it's more often the other way around. And a hero has to be in trouble from the moment of his birth, or he's not a real hero. It's a great relief to find out about Prince Lír. I've been waiting for this tale to turn out a leading man.'  

The unicorn was there as a star is suddenly there, moving a little way ahead of them, a sail in the dark. Molly said, 'If Lír is the hero, what is she?' 

'That's different. Haggard and Lír and Drinn and you and I -- we are in a fairy tale, and must go where it goes. But she is real. She is real.'" 

                                                               (The Last Unicorn, 108-109)

And Schmendrick's statement vastly reinterprets the entire tale. As a reader, we thought we were reading a tale about a unicorn searching for others of her kind. But Schmendrick tells us that the Unicorn isn't a part of the story at all -- she's just gliding through. She's real, and the rest are all just parts and pieces of the story that she's floating into. (And more about her interaction with the real world in a later post.)

 As I read this incredible book, a profound thought came to my mind. What if "the last unicorn" (in the book) is truly The Last Unicorn (the book itself)? What if the entire story is self-referential, and that the very same Unicorn who wanders out of the woods in search of the others is that same story in which she is contained? (Making this tale similar, in one sense, to House of Leaves' self-reference -- for the book, as well as the house, is a labyrinth, holding a monster that might be a Minotaur and might not be a Minotaur within...)

Just like the Unicorn, the book is hidden in plain sight. When she first leaves her woods, the people do not see her, but see a beautiful white mare. Beautiful, but not Immortal. Not "Other." (I would almost use the word "Holy," but only for its sense of "Otherness," not for its sense of "Goodness.") In fact, the people have such a problem in seeing the Unicorn for what she is that the witch actually has to enchant her so people believe that she is a unicorn! Likewise, The Last Unicorn sits on shelves as a beautiful white mare -- -- but I am convinced that should a Schmendrick or Molly Grue pick it up, they will recognize they true Myth of this work.

And that is why this book is fantastic. The plot is good, the setting general fantasy, the characters caricatured, the writing is poetic, but the Myth is profound. In fact, it is likely the most profoundly Mythological (in my sense, see the introduction to this blog) novel that I have ever read. C.S. Lewis praised George MacDonald for being a Myth-Maker, but this novel is perhaps an even truer Myth than Phantases or Lilith, because it is a Myth about Myth. It is the Myth of the Myth as she searches for Myth in the midst of a Fairy Tale, which is a different kind of Myth.

Again, like the Unicorn, this novel is hard to catch and hard to see. It is hard to pin down. I finished reading it two or three weeks ago, and I am just now finding words to write a little bit about it. The Last Unicorn, itself a unicorn, hides in the thicket, runs quite quickly, and is very difficult to hold, tie up, or wrangle.

And... that is okay, actually. That is, perhaps, one of the morals of the story. Haggard appreciates the Myth so much that he locks them all away by brute force in the ocean. In a sense, Haggard is much like the Judge from Blood Meridian, discontent with anything existing outside of his permission. He despises Mystery. But for Myth to be beautiful, it must have Mystery. (C.S. Lewis, again, posits this in his autobiographical work, Surprised by Joy - as does G.K. Chesterton in his chapter about Romance in Heretics.)

If I were to bring a hard exposition down on The Last Unicorn, I would rob the Unicorn of its freedom, capture it with the harsh logic of my Red Bull, and lock it away in the sea where it is not free, it is not beautiful, and, most importantly, it has no power to renew the world. So, I'm alright with this novel being difficult to explain. It is more subtle and more mysterious than that.

My intention here, then, is to open your eyes, should you read it. To allow you, like Schmendrick or Molly Grue, to recognize the Unicorn for what she is, and to accept the Mystery.