The Bain of the Black Sword   by Michael Moorcock

This is probably the thinnest prose I have ever read, and still manages to rareify in places. The story of a man who is powerless without his sword, which has a mind of its own. He is, however, bloodthirsty with it and engages in fierce battles with men and beasts for fun.

The short book actually comprises of four short stories, all along the lines of finding out about some enemy afoot, and going out to kill them after traversing some mystical and perilous landscape.

Sometimes a battle or quest is followed in detail, but often one is glossed over with a single short paragraph. For example, he loses a detailed slash-by-slash battle with beasts of his enemy, who gets his sword and stashes it in his castle. The man lies to recover from his injuries, while a couple of friends, as a passing note, retrieve the sword from the impossibly guarded place.

In the last story a hero has to pass through five space-time gates, with some epic fight to get to each one, in a different, strange, realm. But it is so thin, it would have been better if there were just one gate and we got to feel the struggle and strife involved in getting through.

If I was an eleven year old boy Iʼd probably love this. But me, now, hates it.