"On some timeless morning, Jephraim Tallow—"four feet of widemouthed, red-haired, grinning travesty of the human race"—awakens to find that, although his mouth no longer bleeds, he has lost his navel. And as he ponders this transformation, the river on which he lives spawns a beautiful golden barge, coursing steadily onward, apparently without a crew or motive power. It is then that Tallow realises that "(he) was no longer the integrated and impenetrable thing he had been, for he had not taken the golden barge into account before".

So begins The Golden Barge, Michael Moorcock's first novel, completed in 1958 at age 17 and published only now through the auspices of Savoy Books. The manuscript was apparently never submitted to a publisher, and has been printed here with only minor revisions (most evident in the opening chapters). It is recommended reading for historical curiosity value rather than for literary or entertainment merits; yet the novel displays a maturity of thought (if not writing style) sufficient to stand on its own.

The Golden Barge has an allegorical intent more akin to Moorcock's recent work than his early published efforts in the heroic fantasy field. To describe it as a Mervyn Peake version of Heart of Darkness would be neither unfair nor unflattering. Jephraim Tallow's story is a quest into the mystery of self, as he leaves his whining, over-protective mother to follow the golden barge down the eternal river, always just out of reach and always leading Tallow into situations of moral ambiguity. It is a journey through landscapes of despair, perhaps even more relevant now than in the 1950s, as Tallow's obsessive pursuit of the barge acts as the catalyst for a wake of emotional and physical destruction—crime, revolution, war, treachery, failures of love, and vindictive rejections of philosophies and ideals. For Jephraim Tallow cannot reconcile his desperate need for individuality with the obligations of humanity; and the golden barge looms ever on the distant horizon.

Those so inclined might have a field day of literary detective work; for example, there is a city named Melibone (sic), a character called Slorm, and several other, less direct references to later novels. And, of course, Jephraim Tallow has reappeared (if only to meet his end) in Gloriana. But as M John Harrison observes in his adroit introduction, the conclusion of such efforts can only be: "Look here! When he wrote The Golden Barge, Moorcock was Moorcock!"

Savoy is to be congratulated for preserving this charming curiosity piece, and its packaging, with Gustave Moreau cover reproductions and James Cawthorn interiors, is superb. Rumour has it, however, that the gold-leaf Moreau reproductions have rendered the book irretrievably unprofitable. I hope not; further scheduled books by Savoy indicate that this publisher is dedicated to preserving some excellent fantasy rarities."