currently overthinking our TBR

A freshly dog-eared review

The Last Unicorn Review: Beauty With Teeth

By Paige Sutton






The Last Unicorn Review: Beauty With Teeth


The Last Unicorn

Most unicorns now arrive on lunch boxes covered in glitter. Peter S. Beagle’s unicorn arrives alone, proud, and suddenly unsure whether anything like her remains in the world. The Last Unicorn is beautiful, but it is not soft. It knows beauty can make a creature vain, turn a king possessive, and leave an ordinary woman furious about every year she spent waiting for magic. I first knew the animated film and assumed the novel would be a prettier version of the same ache. The book is stranger, funnier, and considerably less interested in making anyone comfortable.

Author Peter S. Beagle
Published 1968
Genre Literary fantasy / fairy-tale fantasy
Format Self-contained novel with later companion stories; about 300 pages by edition
Best for Readers who want lyrical prose, melancholy quests, imperfect magic, and romance that cannot cancel mortality
Our rating 4.5/5

Plot Summary

A unicorn lives untouched in her lilac wood, where seasons barely seem to reach her. When she overhears travelers claim that unicorns have vanished, she leaves to discover what happened to the rest of her kind. Most humans on the road cannot recognize her. A witch named Mommy Fortuna can, and imprisons her in a shabby carnival whose other wonders rely on cheap spells and audience desperation.

She escapes with Schmendrick, an inept magician whose power appears only when he loses control of it. They are later joined by Molly Grue, a sharp, tired woman who recognizes the unicorn and responds not with polite awe but with grief for how late the miracle has come. Their search leads toward King Haggard, a joyless ruler whose red bull has driven the unicorns away. When the bull corners their companion, Schmendrick saves her through the worst possible miracle: he transforms the immortal unicorn into a mortal woman.

Now called Lady Amalthea, she enters Haggard’s castle with Schmendrick and Molly. Prince Lír falls in love with her and tries to become the sort of hero a fairy tale promises will be rewarded. Amalthea, meanwhile, begins to forget what she was. The quest becomes a race between human feeling and immortal memory. To free the other unicorns, she must face the bull while burdened with fear, love, and the knowledge of death, none of which belonged to her before.

Review and Analysis: A Fairy Tale That Notices the Bill

Beagle’s prose is doing real work

The language is the first reason this book has lasted. Beagle can describe a forest as if it has a private opinion, then undercut the enchantment with a practical joke. The sentences are lyrical without turning every object into perfume. They move. Even the beauty has pressure behind it, because the unicorn’s perfect stillness is contrasted with human bodies that age, hunger, sweat, and embarrass themselves.

I found my first paperback in a used shop with a cracked purple cover. I opened it in the car to check the print size and read through several pages while a bag of frozen peas softened beside me. That is not noble devotion to literature. It is evidence that Beagle knows how to make a familiar fairy-tale cadence feel newly dangerous.

The novel also keeps looking sideways at its own genre. Characters know how heroic quests are supposed to work. Prince Lír starts performing feats because that is the approved method for winning a mysterious lady. Captain Cully is so busy manufacturing his legend that he barely inhabits his life. Schmendrick wants the dignity of a great magician while his spells behave like escaped pets. Beagle uses their self-awareness to ask why people need stories even when they see the machinery.

Molly Grue is the human heart of it

The unicorn is unforgettable, but Molly Grue is the character who makes the book hurt. She is not a maiden waiting in clean sleeves. She has survived bad choices and disappointing men. When magic finally comes to her, she is angry because wonder had the nerve to wait until she felt old. Fantasy often treats the chosen person’s timing as sacred. Molly responds like someone who had errands, rent, and a body while destiny took its sweet time.

I reread her arrival in my thirties after a run of heroines who were all nineteen, lethal, and somehow experts at court politics. Molly’s exhaustion felt more radical than another dagger strapped to a thigh. She is compassionate without being decorative. She feeds people, sees through them, and refuses to pretend that recognition erases resentment.

The romance refuses an easy reward

Lady Amalthea and Lír have the shape of a romantasy pairing but none of the usual guarantee. He remakes himself through heroic labor. She learns desire and fear inside a body she never asked to inhabit. Their love matters, yet the novel will not claim that romantic fulfillment is worth any cost. Mortality gives Amalthea feeling while violating her nature. Becoming human is an injury that opens a door.

This is where the book separates itself from sweeter fairy tales. Love changes the unicorn, but change is not presented as automatic improvement. She gains something precious and loses innocence she can never recover. A friend once asked me for a comforting fantasy after a breakup, and I recommended this because I remembered the songs and the soft painted landscapes. She called me halfway through to say my definition of comfort needed professional supervision. Fair. The consolation here is not safety. It is that sorrow can enlarge a life without making the sorrow good.

What does not land cleanly

The novel’s whimsy sometimes interrupts its emotional line. The outlaw episode is clever but feels longer every time I reread it. Schmendrick can be exasperating, Lír is deliberately simpler than the women around him, and the quest drifts until Haggard’s castle comes into view.

The final movement gathers those loose concerns into one brutal choice. Still, I will not pretend every detour glows merely because the central image does.

The novel treats wonder as a living thing with its own needs, not a reward delivered to humans for good behavior.

Rating: 4.5/5

Our rating: 4.5/5. Goodreads readers place the novel at roughly 4.16, already strong territory for a fantasy published in 1968. I rate it slightly higher because the prose, Molly Grue’s emotional force, and the book’s critical standing as a modern fantasy classic outweigh its wandering comic stretches. This is not a perfect clockwork story. It is a rare story whose central ideas about mortality and wonder become more pointed as its readers age. Half a star stays off because Haggard’s road has potholes.

Author Bio

Peter S. Beagle was born in Manhattan in 1939 and published his first novel, A Fine and Private Place, in his early twenties. His work combines fantasy, comedy, music, and an alert sense of loss. Beyond The Last Unicorn, his books include In Calabria, Tamsin, and The Innkeeper’s Song. Beagle also wrote the script for the 1982 animated adaptation and an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. He has deeply influenced writers who prefer their enchantment mixed with regret.

Discussion Questions

  1. What does the unicorn gain from becoming human, and which part of that change feels most like a loss?
  2. Why does Molly Grue greet the unicorn with anger as well as love?
  3. How does the novel use characters who understand fairy-tale conventions without turning the story into parody?
  4. Is King Haggard driven more by greed, loneliness, or an inability to experience ordinary joy?
  5. Does Lír’s devotion honor Amalthea as a person, or does it begin by treating her as a role in his heroic story?

Buy the Book

The novel has appeared in several illustrated and anniversary editions, so readers who care about the art should compare formats. See current editions and prices for The Last Unicorn on Amazon.

Standout Moments

The carnival cage

Mommy Fortuna’s audience sees what it expects rather than what is present. The unicorn’s imprisonment becomes a sharp little lesson in how spectacle can make real wonder invisible.

Molly recognizes her too late

Molly’s response compresses years of disappointment into one encounter. Awe and accusation occupy the same breath, which is far more honest than reverence alone.

Magic makes a human body

Schmendrick’s rescue succeeds in the most frightening form available. The unicorn survives the bull, then discovers the terror of being separated from her own nature.

The sea releases what was hidden

The confrontation at Haggard’s shore turns one lonely creature’s search into a rush of collective freedom. Its scale feels earned because the story has spent so long inside isolation.

Adaptation Note

The 1982 animated film remains the adaptation most readers know. Jules Bass and Arthur Rankin Jr. produced it, with animation by Topcraft. Beagle wrote the screenplay, and the voice cast includes Mia Farrow, Alan Arkin, Angela Lansbury, Christopher Lee, and Jeff Bridges. Songs by Jimmy Webb, performed by America, give the film its melancholy. It is remarkably faithful, though the novel has more verbal wit and room for its sadness to deepen. Loving the film is a sound reason to read the book.

Keep the magic complicated

For more fantasy that leaves fingerprints instead of glitter, browse more fantasy reviews from I'm Loving Books and choose your next beautiful problem.

SEO title: The Last Unicorn Review: Beauty With Teeth
Meta: A candid review of Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn, a melancholy fantasy classic about beauty, mortality, love, and the cost of becoming human.
Rating: 4.5/5   Slug: review-the-last-unicorn-peter-s-beagle