THE END OF ALL SONGS

Last of Moorcock's Dancers at the End of Time trilogy, this archly choreographed mummery unscrambles the time-travel imbroglios that originally deposited the virtuous Mrs. Amelia Underwood among Mistress Christia, Bishop Castle, the Duke of Queens, and the other airily jaded voluptuaries who govern the End of Time (An Alien Heat, 1973; The Hollow Lands, 1974). Moorcock continues to churn out deep utterances on hedonism vs. duty, the fragility of cultural certainties, and the limits of illusion, in a mincingly dÉgagÉ style distinguished by the complete absence of progressive tenses. It is all rather like a tasteful nine-dollar serving of consommÉ, made with half a scallion and an odd thimbleful of carrot scrapings cut into shapes of extreme elegance.