The Last Unicorn, The Chronicles of Narnia and the Tolkien oeuvre are, for many, definitive fantasy texts. It would be easy to conclude that they’ve reached that status purely as a result of their quality, and their (related) influence on fantasy-writing. Yet the calculus of canon formation is far more complex than a simple acknowledgement of a given work’s static value. Readers tend to think of the cadre of “classic” works and authors as relatively stable, only altered by the introduction of new luminaries. Yet a casual glance at a slightly-aged “100 Best Novels”-style volume reveals a bizarre alternate world where Benjamin Disraeli is a deeply important Victorian novelist. Read Sybil or Tancred lately? I sure haven’t, and I have a real soft spot for the bigoted old coot.