The Annals of Eelin-Ok
by Jeffrey Ford
I wouldn’t call myself a short story afficionado. I like novel-length fiction; I want stories I can fall headlong into, ones with dense worldbuilding and complicated characters.
But.
This short story is one of the GREATEST WORKS OF FANTASY EVER WRITTEN. The bulk is the miraculously-recovered journal of a Twilmish fairy, a series of terse entries detailing the life of one Eelin-Ok in his own words. We have to start with the nature of the Twilmish: these eternal beings only coalesce into a finite person with an identity when they chance to find a home. Only a sandcastle will suit, one made by a child.
The first entry in his journal is entitled ‘How I Happened.’
The lifespan of the castle’s inhabitant is dictated by the tide. Having become alive upon finding a home to call their own, the Twilmish will live until the tide turns and their home is inundated.
But this is not to say their lives are short and two-dimensional: in the span of hours he has to live, Eelin-Ok’s existence is as full as the eighty years we’re given.
He battles rats and explores the region around his castle. Falls in love and teaches his adopted son to fish and hunt. Plays with his sand flea pet while converting tiny bits of human garbage into tools and furnishings. In short, his existence is a mix of the poignant and mundane most striking because it feels familiar.
He was born to the setting sun and watches it sink into the horizon with awe over what is, to him, a lengthy period. The moon comes as a shock, and he can barely credit what his son has to tell him about daytime; his handful of hours is his observed universe.
It isn’t the scale of the scenery or Eelin-Ok’s use of found objects that make this story special. Scattered throughout the narrative are benchmarks that made my heart stutter every time I came across one, because the reader understands and the fairy doesn’t. Every so often, Eelin-Ok will count the number of footsteps it took to travel from his home, While Away, to the water’s edge, and there are always fewer of them. He is measuring his own mortality, and only late in the story does he begin to grasp what’s coming.
This story perfectly captures the bittersweet beauty of mortality. The value scarcity bestows upon each day. Because of his size and the brevity of his life, Eelin-Ok can perceive but a miniscule portion of the world, but his life is rich.
I cried almost start to finish while reading this story. It isn’t sad, just immensely beautiful, saturated with joy and wonder. Worth immeasurably more than the twenty minutes it takes to read.
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