When I first read it, my fantasy obsession was in full bloom, although it was not yet the lifestyle it is now. I proudly claimed to have "evolved" in my reading, starting from Tolkein/ Clarke/ Asimov to Robert Jordan to Stephen King to... and so on until I read Stephen Donaldson. (Aside: a retrospective from back then on the old blog: My Fantasy Bibiliospective).
I thought I had read everything there was to read.
As stupid statements go, that one was... really stupid, because with my discovery of"Gardens of the Moon", the opening volume of the series (from a hearty recommendation by Donaldson on his site), I was about to be blown away. Never before or since have I found anything that comes close in the genre for sheer scope of imagination, expert story-telling, or literary significance (yes, that old chestnut!).
