With global events reaching a boiling point, I've been thinking quite a lot about what makes a hero or heroine. Because it's an historical fiction blog, that's what I'm focussing on, but I'm pretty sure these thoughts can pass over onto other genres too. The first thing is that the hero/ine does not have to be the main character. Tolkien said that Samwise Gamgee was the real hero of The Lord of the Rings (which can hardly come as a shock to anyone who has read it) but he was not the main - or even the second - character. If you are writing with an ensemble cast, this is a more obvious distinction. Chances are, if you have only one major character, they are also going to be the hero/ine. Next, consider that a hero/ine does not have to be right the whole time. The important thing about their decisions is twofold: They always do what they believe to be best for other people They always work (and hopefully achieve!) to put right any harm their choices have made These t...
Continuing from last week's post which explored Artwork as Inspiration (the starting point for Proof of the Old Faith) I'm sticking with Norse culture. Here is The Weave of the Norns, a poem I wrote a few years ago about these three frightening women.
Enjoy!
The Norns by Arthur Rackham
Beneath the threat of utter doom
he sought them at their fabled loom.
The king searched on until he found
them on the morrow’s battleground.
The tallest worked the wheel alone;
the next, a shuttle made of bone;
the shortest bore a silver sword
with which she severed each loose cord.
What pattern spun these women three,
dictating mankind’s victory!
“I come to beg you demonstrate
a gentle weaving of our fate.”
“Then know you this, oh man of peace,
we weave the thread and cannot cease.”
“Weave us an ending to this war
and grant us threads of peace once more.”
“What cost would such a wise man pay
for us to change our weave this way?”
And now he saw the bloody thread,
time’s fabric dripping crimson red.
As though she took him in her hand
he felt her pull aside one strand.
“You have forgone your chance to leave.
Your life is foretold in the weave.”
The sword cut clear, the thread hung down,
the mediator lost his crown.
For Fate demands a sacrifice
to cast aside her weighted dice.
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