Dear Mr. Cornwell, I’d meant to write to you after reading the Grail Quest novels, but never got around to it. I’d always been fascinated by the longbow, and pretty much learned as much as I ever wanted to about this famous (or, if your French, infamous) weapon. The tale itself was also a first-rate adventure, and I hadn’t enjoyed a tale of such heroic scope since Lord of the Rings. It was all the better in that it was based on real events, but for me at least, it had the feel of an epic fantasy as well. I have now just finished listening to the last CD of “Sword Song”. My only regret is that I did not realize there were several other novels about Uhtred’s life preceding this. A word about books on tape: Up until about 2 years ago I did not consider listening to books as reading. I even considered it cheating at worst, and at best just plain lazy. I’d listened to a few books on long car trips, and while a good way to pass the time, was not particularly moved or impressed. However, one particular book changed the way I felt. This was “The Terror” by Dan Simmons, and read by John Lee. I can’t even begin to tell you what an engaging experience this was. Not only was the historical information fascinating, right down to a complete course on early steam engines, but the reader’s characterizations and wonderful accents, which ranged from Irish to Scots, upper class English, Cockney, and even Inuit, along with near-poetic prose, made this an unforgettable…listen? I’m not sure how to classify it. It’s a combination of old-time radio, theater, and campfire story-telling. As for Sword Song, you can only truly appreciate a phrase like &death came in the wolf-light before dawn when it is spoken aloud. Its also nice to finally hear all those AE and DH sounds pronounced correctly. Anyway, I relate this because the sound recording of Sword Song is every bit as wonderful, and has really pulled me into a bloody and chaotic period that is terribly neglected, at least in schools. Perhaps in Britain they spend more time on this, but in the States we used to get Beowulf with no background on either the time period or the English language. I teach middle and high school English in an urban district in New Jersey, and we no longer use Beowulf&in fact we barely use Shakespeare, and what little we do is translated into modern English—yes, I know Elizabethan English is technically modern English, but the students and a distressing number of educators describe it as Old English. I like to show them a real Old English copy of Beowulf, along with Chaucers Middle English, to show them how dramatically the language has changed. Suffice it to say, the narrators performance is outstanding, and the language itself is very evocative of the period, or at least what I imagine from what little I know of the periods literature. I love the making of compound words such as corpse-hall, wolf-light, fork-beard, blood-axe, and so on. I got into a discussion of this with a fellow English teacher who had, rather fittingly, introduced me to Skull-Splitter Orkney Ale, and we began wondering if what we considered to be classical poetic forms, such as Homers Oddyssey, were actually, by virtue of translation, something uniquely English. Homers wine-dark sea might owe more to the Uhtreds Saxons than Oddyseus Greeks. My own reading has generally ended with the end of Republican Rome and picked up again round about Hastings, so theres a gap of nearly 1100 years in history for which I have only a passing knowledge. Only a handful of historical novels come to mind, the most memorable of which were The Lion of Ireland by Morgan Llewellyn (about Brian Boru) and a book I read when I was between 10 and 12 called The Long Ships. The former surprised me by the extent of Viking settlement and influence in Britain, and the latter was probably the first adult historical novel I ever read. Im also pretty sure Ethelred (thats how it was spelled) appeared in it, and was called Ethelred the Unready, though this might be someone other than Alfreds son-in-law. Regardless, to this day I remember how horrified I was by what seemed like the casual and often unnecessary brutality of the times, something clearly abundant in Sword Song, especially on the part of the Vikings. One memorable part of the book was actually a story within the story as it were, related to the character by an older companion. He told of a group of Vikings captured by other Vikings. All were put to death by beheading with an axe. When it came one particular warriors turn to place his head on the stump, he begged one of his captors to pull up his long braided hair, of which he was tremendously proud, and hold it such that it would not be cut by the axe or soiled with blood. The captor agreed, and grabbed the braids and pulled them up off the neck. Then, just as the axe was swung, the captive yanked his head back off the stump. The startled man holding the hair had his hands pulled over the stump just as the axe came down. Of course, both hands were severed. The captors thought that this was such great sport, and clever besides, that once they had stopped laughing they released the golden-braided warrior and let him go on his way. In another section a group of Danes were welcomed into a hall, given food and drink, then locked inside while the building was set on fire. Such was my introduction to the Northmen and Saxons. As it is, Ive taken enough of your time. Rest assured I will be picking up The Last Kingdom before the week is out. (Ive had a copy of Stonehenge for over 2 years now, but will wait awhile to get to that). Thanks again for a terrific read and history lesson, and I look forward to reading more of Uhtreds adventures. Regards, Brian Hurrel