"Robert Nye, poet and sleight-of-hand artist, undertakes roughly the same service for magician Merlin that he performed for Shakespeare's hill of flesh in Falstaff (1976). His narrative is a pastiche of dazzling incongruities, linked by the ghostly consciousness of Merlin as Heine envisioned him, a mere voice from the 'singing grave' of his last imprisonment. There Merlin tells his own story to the mute companions of his incarceration. ... there is no gainsaying the savage elegance of these japes--funny, painful, erotic, bursting with manic erudition." --Kirkus Reviews 1979 (undated online)
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