In fact, there is a general lack of authorial confidence: Even the smallest details are given awkward justifications (as if the author were constantly fearful that someone were going to shout “gotcha!”). The prose (or, perhaps more appropriately, the storytelling) can be awkward at times: There seems to be no trust that the reader will hold on to certain concepts (like the emerging nature of the sword’s enchantment), and thus the same information will be repeated incessantly. The story would better be described as something of a melancholic character drama. In reality, there’s nothing particularly funny about the book at all, and it’s rather clear that Watt-Evans never meant it to be. The back cover blurb on my copy of the book gives the impression that this will all result in something of a farce – like Asprin or Anthony in their prime. Unfortunately, as the character rapidly learns, the sword’s enchantments include some rather annoying side-effects – among them the fact that the main character can’t get rid of it. The concept of the plot is a fairly clever twist on familiar themes: The main character, trapped in the middle of a generational religious war between the followers of the gods and the northern demon-worshippers, is gifted with a magic sword. The attitude can, perhaps, best be summed up by a quote from the book itself: “They wanted to believe in heroes, not ordinary, everyday magic.” (Think about it.) The world is soaked in magic – one of those mid-‘80s creations of heavily D&D-influenced fantasy. The Misenchanted Sword is the first of Lawrence Watt-Evans’ Ethshar novels.

The misenchanted sword