on history and legend
Sep. 28th, 2008 10:07 amI'm currently reading Becoming Charlemagne: Europe, Baghdad, and the Empires of A.D. 800, and by reading, I mean I started it today and am on page 12, but the first twelve pages have been really good.
Me being me, it makes me think of Narnia.
I also just finished rereading (for, oh, the umpteenth time; I've had these books since I was in fourth or fifth grade and I reread them a couple times a year) Dragonfly in Amber. For those that don't know, Dragonfly in Amber is the second book in the Outlander series, about a time-traveling English doctor from the 1940s (and later, the 1960s) who falls in love with a Scottish Jacobite. Here, she's talking to a modern historian in 1968 about her experiences with the 1945 Jacobite Rising.
It's not a new thing, this knowledge that history is flawed and broken and dangerous, untrue. While it's not a common theme in fiction, it's not particularly rare, either. It makes its way into modern history books, because the more we learn, the more we learn we don't know and can't learn. But it fascinates me, and I thought y'all might be interested in seeing some of what I run across.
What's lost? What's found? What's truth, and what's a pretty lie? Who knows, really?
In conclusion, now I want to write Golden Age history from the Telmarine POV. Unfortunately, I have to do homework.
Me being me, it makes me think of Narnia.
The world of this Charlemagne is flooded with chivalry and perpetual miracles. It is also sheer fantasy, a romanticized medieval kingdom with the sharp edges filed down and painted with dainty fleurs-de-lys.
In reality, eight-century Europe was a vast and dhsowy forest. The stone-and-timber fortresses that supported civilizations had not yet given way to storybook castles, and the trappings of chivalry were still centuries away. Karl was only beginning to build the places where his descendants would pass their winters, reimagine Europe, and tell themselves preposterous tales about their own past.
[...]
To history, Karl's high point was his coronation as emperor, when he unknowingly set Europe on a bold new path. Artists envisioned it, Napoleon admired it, and Adolf Hitler sought to emulate it, as did the architects of the European Union. In the meantime, the real Karl the Great was buried beneath his own reputation, remembered in legend, forgotten in fact.
After Karl's death, Fortune's wheel spun, and the churches and towns of eight-century Europe passed away, sometimes wasted by war, at other times expanded, rebuilt, or re-adorned depending on the whims of each new age. The relics of Karl's era are sadly sparse: a few buildings; some coins, cups, and artwork; and a fair number of archaeological sites -- but also, most usefully, a library of several thousand books. Most of these volumes are copies of older works, cultural treasures that would have been lost if not for the diligence of Karl's monks. These manuscripts preserve the memories of those who made them in the poems, chronicles, and letters that help to tell Karl's story.
Today, the people of Karl's era are remote and ghostly figures. To discover their world in letters and lyrics is to glimpse a vast universe thorugh a half-open door; the view is frustrating and incomplete. Karl and his contemporaries left few truly personal writings, the places they knew are gone, and accurate portraits of them are virtually nonexistent. Time swept away most traces of their lives.
But across a gulf of 1,200 years, they clamor to be heard.
- Sypeck, Jeff. Becoming Charlemagne: Europe, Baghdad, and the Empires of A.D. 800. New York: Harper Perennial, 2007.
I also just finished rereading (for, oh, the umpteenth time; I've had these books since I was in fourth or fifth grade and I reread them a couple times a year) Dragonfly in Amber. For those that don't know, Dragonfly in Amber is the second book in the Outlander series, about a time-traveling English doctor from the 1940s (and later, the 1960s) who falls in love with a Scottish Jacobite. Here, she's talking to a modern historian in 1968 about her experiences with the 1945 Jacobite Rising.
"But do you know what's really funny? That poor, silly sot and his greedy, stupid helpers; and the foolish, honorable men who couldn't bring themselves to turn back...they had the one tiny virtue among them; they believed. And the odd thing is, that that's all that's endured of them -- all the silliness, the incompetence, the cowardice and drunken vainglory; that's all gone. All that's left now of Charles Stuart and his men is the glory that they sought for and never found.
"Perhaps Raymond was right," she added in a softer tone; "it's only the essence of a thing that counts. When time strips everything else away, it's only the hardness of the bone that's left."
"I suppose you must feel some bitterness against the historians," Roger ventured. "All the writers who got it wrong -- made him out a hero. I mean, you can't go anywhere in the Highlands without seeing the Bonnie Prince on toffee tins and souvenir tourist mugs."
[...]
"Not the historians. No, not them. Their greatest crime is that they presume to know what happened, how things come about, when they have only what the past chose to leave behind -- for the most part, they think what they were meant to think, and it's a rare one that sees what really happened behind the smokescreen of artifacts and paper."
[...]
"No, the fault lies with the artists," Claire went on. "The writers, the singers, the tellers of tales. It's them that take the past and re-create it to their liking. Them that could take a fool and give you back a hero, take a sot and make him a king."
"Are they all liars, then?" Roger asked. [...]
"Liars?" she asked, "or sorcerors? Do they see the bones in the dust of the earth, see the essence of a thing that was, and reclothe it in new flesh, so the plodding beast reemerges a fabulous monster?"
It's not a new thing, this knowledge that history is flawed and broken and dangerous, untrue. While it's not a common theme in fiction, it's not particularly rare, either. It makes its way into modern history books, because the more we learn, the more we learn we don't know and can't learn. But it fascinates me, and I thought y'all might be interested in seeing some of what I run across.
What's lost? What's found? What's truth, and what's a pretty lie? Who knows, really?
In conclusion, now I want to write Golden Age history from the Telmarine POV. Unfortunately, I have to do homework.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-28 05:29 pm (UTC)maybe you should be a history major.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-28 05:54 pm (UTC)I am a history major; I'm not declared yet, but I'm planning on doubling in English Writing and history. (I don't know if I get to do concentrations in history as an undergrad, but I'll probably end up concentrating on military history.)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 01:07 am (UTC)I still think you should write some "reverse pov" pieces, where the White Witch was the good one and Aslan was evil, like I talked about previously-reversing canon, and having the Pevensies find out some years down the road and be PISSED OFF about being used,etc. OR you could write it as some of the Dark Narnians' legends...they surely have them. Either would be a fascinating twist on both book/movie canon and on your own. :)
Damn that homework, anyhow! Doesn't Tulane know you have fangirls to placate? *rotfl*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 01:13 am (UTC)Huh. *considers*
Hmm, while you're here, I wrote Peter/Edmund. Remember that bit a while back where Peter's going crazy and wants Edmund to make him, uh, not crazy? Finished that!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 03:07 am (UTC)The White Witch *had* followers and they weren't all motivated by fear. I'm sure Lewis meant them to be bad guys and/or unenlightened sorts; but to me, they're mostly just...not human, with very different needs and wants than we would expect. What *would* they think of these human children, put in to rule over them by Aslan, who they're not all that fond of? Would they know the kids themselves weren't to blame, being from another world and innocent? Maybe some would want to "enlighten" *them*, persuade them to the Witch's ways...while some would be unconvinced of the need for these humans, at all. Some, knowing the land needed a pair of vehicles to manifest her wishes through, would be reluctantly willing to endure them, perhaps even serve them...there'd be as many different motivations for the dark Narnians as there were races, I'd think.
I did read the poem, I'll go comment on it over there. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 03:33 am (UTC)More, I'd guess. If there are as many tribes and clans with the dark Narnians as there are with the "good" Narnians (at least in, you know, my cracked out Narnia), then there are most likely just as many problems. And some of them are going to intersect and some of them are not, and some of them are going to intersect with the -- bright Narnians? man, I don't know what to call anyone -- and there will be some very odd alliances popping up, I'd bet.
Mmm, I foresee kidnapping attempts for reasons other than torture. Peter gets kidnapped and possessed once, but...huh. Which of the other three are they also going to target? Lucy, because she's the youngest? Edmund, because he sided with the White Witch once? (And who is he a traitor to? Aslan? Or her, because he was just as much a traitor to the White Witch as he was to Aslan?) Susan? I somehow doubt it's going to be Susan, just because I can't think of a reason. Because she's next in the line of succession? Or Peter himself, once they realize his strings are being pulled by someone other than Aslan...after all, Narnia is their country too.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 04:02 am (UTC)It seems to me that the dark Narnians have more issues to quarrel over & move differing povs than the bright Narnians...*they* follow Aslan, either believing whole-heartedly in him, or believe-with-questions. Everything else springs from that. But the dark Narnias-it's an excellent point, that Narnia is *their* country, too. She does nothing to expel them, either, or drop rocks on their heads, make holes in the ground to trap them, etc, so...something in her acknowledges them-their Dark Mother. It reminds me of a quote from The Merman's Children, by Poul Anderson-he wrote a sort of hymn to the ocean from the merpeople's pov, about how she's the "Maiden, and Mother, and Mistress of Mysteries"...damn it, I have no idea where my copy is or I'd quote it to you. But the ocean is bright on the surface; the shoals of fish are her "flocks", like children; and then, deep down, is the heart of her that she "will never let you see", and that just might eat you...it's referring to the ocean, but it makes as much sense for a sentient land. *muses*
I doubt they'd kidnap Lucy because she's the youngest-more because she'd be seen as Aslan's priestess or similar. IF they took her, I can't see anything else but intent to sacrifice, probably in honor of the White Witch, if not to raise power. Susan...oddly, I can't think of anything anyone would want her for. She's not "next in line"...it's a *four-way* rule, so removing her wouldn't do much to destabilize the sovreignity. Plus, ah...she's distant enough from her siblings that the dark Narnians might not think they'd do anything about it. *shrugs*
Peter-if they kidnapped him, they'd HAVE to kill him, and REALLY DAMN FAST, before Narnia moved. Because even if they knocked him out, *Edmund* would know where he was, so he could bring the military might down on him, while Narnia kicked their asses from within. I sincerely doubt they'd be able to get him out of the country fast enough to avoid Narnia's actions, even if the dodged Edmund. So, Peter, most likely an assassination target, but not abduction-it's not practical.
Edmund, imo, is the one in most nger. You asked me before if I thought Edmund would be suspected (and I haven't answered that discussion yet, I'll get to it!)...I think, despite how he's proved himself over the years, MORE than redeeming his childhood actions, there'd be a small number who'd remember and eye him during any tension-filled threat like that. Plus, as you say, the dark Narnians would be angry (and perhaps sad?) that he "betrayed" the Witch by leaving her/thwarting her plans. So he'd be in danger from both sides. Hence his "what does it take to fucking PROVE MYSELF to you people" fit at Peter over the faked betrayal (and I do hope you include the part about Edmund poisoning himself and Peter, to gain immunity, like we were joking about-I think Peter would hit the ceiling, first, and then be all...hmm, hey, now...*laughs*)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 04:54 am (UTC)Narnia has to exist with a balance -- the dark and the light, the good and the not so good, etc. Probably the same reason why the wedding ritual is a life -- and a death. (Or, well, the potential for life. Sex and all that.)
Unless they get Peter before the wedding ritual. Because until then he's not linked to Edmund, and his link with Narnia is more or less one way; she can't act without the full ritual. And if they want him young -- and before he gets really scary -- well, then, that would be the time to do it, when Aslan's vanished and Peter's working himself to a bone trying to do a million different things all at once. They've got two or three years.
And on the other hand, I think if they knocked Peter out, they'd gain at least a little time. If Narnia's seeing through Peter's eyes, then he has to be awake for that. (Also, I've already set up stuff that happens to Peter while he's in Narnia, so. *shrugs* Like the time he got kidnapped, and then the other time he got kidnapped. And the ten million assassination attempts.)
Poor Edmund. The dark Narnians and the bright Narnians after him...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 07:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 01:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 01:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 03:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-29 09:39 pm (UTC)