“I have been hunted with bells and banners in my time,” she told him. “Men knew that the only way to hunt me was to make the chase so wondrous that I would come near to see it. And even so I was never once captured.”

it is almost as far beyond my abilities to write a decent review of this book as it would be for me to write this book in the first place, but I’ll attempt it. Beagle uses the language and logic of fairytales, and like his source material The Last Unicorn stirs up deep emotions. I was constantly caught off-guard by little heartfelt exchanges between characters and unexpected flurries of sorrow. I feel like all of these characters were somewhere within me, and Beagle conjured them up so I could get to know them better. the impression that the unicorn makes on people who see her is so strong that people are described as dreaming of her for years, waking up in the night crying because of their encounter with her beauty, or going through life with their aspect changed into dreaminess and cheer. to see a unicorn is to have something of its beauty imprinted on the deepest part of us, working changes, soothing wounds, and wounding anew. I think that Beagle has recreated this experience with The Last Unicorn, which as I was reading it sunk into my soul and brought some of my dreams back to me.