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A weird one.

I had heard about Moorcock and his reputation of a, well, not quite an anti-tolkienist but someone who wanted to move things forward. Or away. To explore the darker aspects of fantasy. Yet, despite having flagged up "Elric of Melnibone" and circling around for a few years, I had kept putting Moorcock off.

"Gloriana" has been there on my shelf for over a year. And yet, I somehow doubted. Wasn't quite sure what to expect. On one hand, the cover and the synopsis promised a fairy-tale. On the other...

And so it was. A not-quite-a-fairy-tale.

For a book boasting "Winner of the World Fantasy Award" on its cover, there is surprising little fantasy in this one. There are inferences and allusions to that but that's about it. No magic, no dragons. There are references and allusions to real, historical personalities - for one, the character after whom the book is named - is a blend of Elisabeth the First and Queen Victoria. With the setting being more Elizabethan in some ways and more Victorian in others. And yet it is not really historic. An alternative reality, one could say, except for it reads like a fairy-tale. Or a play. A bit Victorian, a bit Shakespearian. Somewhat dreamy, something you could see played out in a scene.

I can totally see this re-interpreted as a play. And don't think it would make the story worse - so playful it is.

Although the story is most surely based on something else, the plot, at least to me, felt like a somewhat unique interpretation of "Tartuffe" in places. With some unique twists and additions.

You do have a court of Queen Gloriana. The (hopefully) eternal monarch, the ruler of a so called Golden Age in Albion - some echo of the Imperial Britain. Basically, an idyllic fairy-tale Victoria with the looks of Elizabeth the First. Contrary to the Virgin Queen, though, and the embodiment of hypocrytical purity, virtue, etc. of this Elizabeth's distant successor, Gloriana could be an embodiment of a modern female in exploration of her own sexuality. Or self. Just like half her court. And a significant portion of the story revolves around that - liberation and a search for one's sexual and overall self. Therefore, lavish feasts, orgies, mild erotics in a sexually fluid world. A fairy-tale indeed! While on one hand, this is quite intriguing, on the other, at some point it starts to tire the reader out. Although despite the fact that the reader can quite empathise with the explorations of the characters, and the fact that Moorcock somehow manages to avoid the phenomenon of "and then she boobily breasted down the stairs" (not mine, a borrowed saying) at times the story is a bit too focused on sexual (or general) fulfilment. Gloriana is somewhat obsessed. And I feel for her. it's not wrong to party extensively to forget yourself or feel unfulfilled as a human. And yes, no matter how many ways you can fulfill yourself, this one is important, too. And how! But sometimes it's a bit too much, and, as a reader, you may want other factors to drive the plot also.

And these factors are there. But they are not immediate or always present. I felt like the first third of the book was quite dragged out. Maybe even the first half. And as a reader I was semi-annoyed but when the shit finally hit the fan, I had already been captivated in other ways.

For one thing, this book does quite a lot of worldbuilding. Immensely. It re-creates - both in terms of replicating and creating anew - London. But not the London we know. That other London, the London of stories, fairy-tales and histories. And not only that. The Queen's court too. Probably more that than anything else. The characters (in a broad sense), set-up, costumes, intrigues, balls, masques, plays, feast, festivals and celebrations, chambers, halls and courtrooms, private audience rooms and ante-rooms. All with theatrical flavour. And that is outright beautiful. Firstly, visual. Colours, materials, details, scene set-ups. Secondly - the guesswork. Guess the place. The reference to a historical person, a book, a play, a poem, historical event. A country.

Like I said, it's beautiful.

And then - my favourite since Tolkien's mines of Moriah - the ruins. Moorcock masterfully uses the secret chambers, tunnels, passages and crumbles of secrets within for worldbuilding. With more promise of secrets. And that is exciting.

And so, although sometimes somewhat bored, at the same time you are captivated by those details. And you do not want to let it go, even if wishing the plot to wriggle-up more at the same time.

When it finally hits it off, things develop rapidly. But even so - underwater for a large part. Like in a real court. Nothing on the surface, intrigues and dramas within. Especially when Tartuffe strikes. Murders, political plots, even nightmares. What pushes a leg under one's feet, though, is that uneven pace. Sudden cliffhangers followed by lavish feasts and lazying of the rich great. Sudden excitement, followed by a lull. And then more lull. Until things hit off again. And the end, partly unexpectedly dramatic and dark, despite the expected sunshines ("only an Englishman can write such horrors"), partly unexpectedly cleansing, but not as absolving as one would like.

So I am somewhat at a loss. On one hand, got plenty to think about, especially relationship-, bed-, life- and self-wise, but just like Gloriana, I can't quite say I got there. The ending was a bit rushed, the events that led to it a bit underwater and I never built up to the level of the expected doom, so the emotional release did not quite happen. And I am not sure, story-wise, if that was intended or not.

Apart from the plot, the characters were not fully exploited. Some were (mostly) great. Quire, for instance. Despite him being the antagonist or anti-hero, I found him enjoyable. Chapters revolving around him, especially, in the first half of the book were the most lively. His presence despite him being absent in some places, was also great. But not some hiccups at the end - to me, something was missing. It was a bit difficult to believe his feelings and motivations in the end. Montfallcon, and his flaws, were lovely, or those of Mr Dee. But then, some Montfallcon's developments were again almost too rapid - not logically, but emotionally. And I did not keep up. Lady Lyst and Wheldrake - totally loveable but then I almost wanted them more. Countess of Scaith - had to grow on me, and just when I began to like her, Moorcock retracted her. Worse, Sir Thomasin Ffynne - a fine, highly potent character, but severely underexploited. Why such detailed and quite powerful introduction when he ends up not really doing much throughout the book, other than revealing some plot twists that may have been revealed through other, insignificant characters?

So yes, a bit of an imbalance.

But that is expected when you have a 300-something page book with so many characters.

My major disappointment, however, was the Queen. Perhaps too much based on sniffly, dreamy, whiney, moany Victorian ladies with their inner Romantic monologues, maybe one or two Elisabethan reflections and soul-spillouts too many. And some lack of potency, despite empathy with her position, situation and lack of fulfilment, self-wise, especially. I just somehow lost her in her explorations and when she picked up, I was still in my low. And I haven't caught-up. At the end, especially.

And yet, despite the flaws, there is something very unique and quite magic (despite its lack per se) in this book. Mostly in the construction of its world. But there is also something beyond the surface. Or maybe it just stroke some personal note self-exploration-wise, however it manifests in my life.

So make of "Gloriana" what you like. It's very English and a bit like marmite. To enjoy it, especially worldbuilding, it definitely helps to be familiar with their culture and thinking. And it's a treat. But not a guarantee for satisfaction on its own. So 4 stars but that's with a little bit of an advance. Just that tiny, little bit that makes everything so close and yet so punishingly far.