The Fafhrd and Gray Mouser of the late 1960s and on are not the same dashing heroes we meet in the early days of Unknown. The pace of the stories slow considerably, their adventures turn inward, and the stories occur in smaller spaces, in particular the distant island Rime Isle, located out on the very rim of Nehwon.

The reasons for this shift are many. The accumulation of life and experience, advancing years, and the accumulation of lifelong learning made Leiber a different man and therefore a different author than his heyday of the 1940s, 50s and early 60s. Leiber’s wife Jonquil passed away in 1969, and mortality weighed on his mind. Leiber studied philosophy at the University of Chicago and lived a rich inner life, and the increasing influence of the theories of the psychologist Carl Jung strongly shaped his fiction, moving it beyond fast-paced sword-and-sorcery to psychological exploration and autobiographical self-discovery.

Finally, Leiber (1910-1992) turned 60 in 1970, and while he never lost interest in Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser he wanted to do something different in his later years than tell dashing stories of passionate adventure. The heroes became a cipher for his thoughts on settling down, retiring, finding meaning in relationships, and passing on wisdom to the next generation.

The following are some observations and notes I made after a recent re-read of the Second Book of Lankhmar, Fantasy Masterworks edition (Gollancz, 2001), incorporating the insights of Bruce Byfield’s excellent study Witches of the Mind (Necronomicon Press, 1991). The latter is highly recommended if you can find a copy on the second-hand market. Beware: Spoilers follow.

The Swords of Lankhmar (1968)

Before we get to the true “later Leiber” we’re treated to the Swords of Lankhmar, an important transitional work. It’s the only full-length novel of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, and while a lean 230 pages, proof that sword-and-sorcery can work in a longer form. Leiber used the paperback medium to expand upon the short story “Scylla’s Daughter,” which first appeared in the May 1961 Fantastic Stories of Imagination. The result was this 1968 novel.

The Swords of Lankhmar begins with an illuminating introduction in which Leiber describes Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser as “earthy,” grounded heroes opposite Tolkien and Conan. I consider this a must-read for historians of sword-and-sorcery who want to understand some of its key thematic and stylistic elements.

The story is of a war by and against intelligent rats. Fafhrd and Gray Mouser are recruited to protect the grain ships of a wealthy merchant, which are being sunk by rats led by an intriguing group of were-rats, including the beautiful Hisvet and her father Hisvin. Accompanying Hisvet is the otherworldly princess Frix, an indentured servant.

Adventure takes the heroes from the grain ships back to Lankhmar, where the rats are about to ignite a violent revolt. Their goal is not annihilation or ruin, but to defeat the humans, and rule Lankhmar as its overlords.

Fafhrd and Gray Mouser save the day. Fafhrd enlists the aid of the Gods OF Lankhmar, an old, silent, dessicated pantheon, entombed like Egyptian mummies and indifferent to their worshippers save in times of enormous need. The Gray Mouser drinks a potion given to him by his sorcerer-advisor Ningauble, shrinking down to rat size so he can infiltrate the rats’ underground city.

There is some good world-building here. The Gods in Lankhmar—colorful, fun, full of life—contrast with the distant Gods OF Lankhmar. The Sunken Land, swamps, and Nehwon theorized as a bubble floating through the ether, give a compelling background to the story. In an amusing scene the heroes encounter a German explorer riding a sea dragon, seeking the mythical Scylla (this memorable aside made the cover of the 1968 Ace novel). The wizards Ningauble and Sheelba both make appearances, always a highlight. General weirdness abounds.

In particular I enjoyed colorful scenes involving the ridiculous emperor of Lankhmar and his fat, cruel female servant, who derive sick pleasure from the torture of shaved slaves. Both receive a just comeuppance. A child of the Great Depression, Leiber’s distrust of authority is evident here.

The novel is also quite sensual—Hisvet is beautiful and an object of Gray Mouser’s desire, and Frix is her proxy for love, but Hisvet also has weird rat-like anatomy that is never quite revealed, only speculated upon. Fafhrd engages in an amorous relationship with a ghoul, which in Leiber’s world are beings of invisible flesh, walking skeletons with hints of translucent flesh. They eat raw flesh and the material can be seen passing through their digestive tracks. Really well done pleasures of the flesh in the book.

As with most of the Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser series we’ve got the usual deadly sword fights and witty dialogue. Lankhmar itself is a character as rich as any in Leiber’s world. There is a culture and a personality of the city the heroes find worthy of preserving. They both love and hate Lankhmar, but here the former emotion wins out. Leiber presents a more balanced view of civilization than is found in Howard.

Leiber also indulges in some commentary on religion. The residents of Lankhmar celebrate the gods of drinking, fleshly pleasures and leisure (aka, the Gods IN Lankhmar), but run to the serious Gods OF Lankhmar while in extremis, pleading for their help when the shit hits the fan. There is some truth here about human nature, what we “worship” in times of plenty, and how our values change when times are lean.

The Swords of Lankhmar serves as a bridge between the earlier Fahfrd and Gray Mouser stories and his late stories. Changes were occurring in Leiber that would not reach their flower until the 1970s. There is still the same fast paced action and lighthearted tone of the early stories, although the violence is de-emphasized and more influence placed on character development. Most notable: Leiber’s writing and pace has clearly morphed from his earlier pulp sensibilities, taking its time in telling a story.

From here the stories are about to change, radically. And get a little weird.

Part 2 of this series, covering Swords and Ice Magic and The Knight and Knave of Swords, can be found here.

Brian Murphy is the author of Flame and Crimson: A History of Sword-and-Sorcery (Pulp Hero Press). Learn more about his life and work on his website, The Silver Key.