So after about one month's travelling I have finally arrived at the end of an epic journey. The journey through to the very end of William Morris's 1896 fantasy novel The Well At Worlds End.

There are many times when, beset with dark evil forces, I thought that I should very likely fail in the quest. I have posted here before about the possibility of giving up and returning safely, but defeated, to Upmeads. But no like Ursula and Ralph I have battled on to the end, through the dry deserts, over high mountains, until i finally found the sweet taste of success.

Ok, so at 532 pages it has been a hard slog. I'm not ever naturally drawn to fantasy novels, but this is supposedly a classic, by an author whose very name should inspire some interest in the subject. It really isn't all that bad, I could see it making a wonderful epic film in the Lord of the Rings / Harry Potter style. Stripped of its language it may have flowed much freeer.

This isn't the time to post a thought through review, just a chance to toast victory, and to consider my next reading matter, a return to the Gothic cannon is long long overdue.