Nowadays, when words float cheap as thistledown, people only faintly recall the worth and power they once possessed. Words gave order and shape to reality. To know the name of a thing was to perceive its essence and therefore to master it. To name a thing not present was to summon it into being, so that the thing itself existed in the words for it. ‘I was many things before I was released,’ sang Taliesin once. ‘I was a word in letters.’
A name could be moved and manipulated and placed into new arrangements, and all of these activities would affect the object named. It is no wonder that people at that time were very reluctant to reveal the true names of their gods, their countries, and themselves.
The outward sign of the inner powers of a wizard was his knowledge of words and names and the songs he made from them. That is why Joukahainen’s challenge to Vainamoinen began with a recitation of all the transformation songs—verses that claimed they had taken the shape of everything in creation, from raindrops and starlight to bubbles in beer, and thereby had gained infinite understanding. Words were the bricks of all charms and incantations, all spells, riddles, and conjurations. Words, it was said, could blind, maim, and pulverize.
From Time-Life’s Enchanted World Series, SPELLS AND BINDINGS, edited by Ellen Phillips.
These books had a lot of influence on me as a kid. They’re full of gorgeous artwork as well.
Key and Teeth 