Picture Postcard #8 - Punic Ghosts

I have travelled over sea and sand to this ancient place.

My footsteps upon this cursed ground, these sad streets, are heavy,

For I walk in ancient Carthage.

Not the brilliant white ruins of antiquity for this place.

No.

Here, every street and stone, root and rock, weep for the past.

I am choked as I walk, heavy of heart for all the whispers about me.

From the salt-sown earth about the Bursa Hill,

The men, women and children of Carthage scream, and wail, and cry.

For all time.

 “Carthago delenda est” said the Roman.

And so it came to pass.

As I walk the streets, burned by the flames of ages past,

An incessant whispering of ghosts in my ears,

The bloody words resonate with the tramp of legionary hobnails.

“Carthago delenda est” – Carthage must be destroyed.

I walk among Roman ruins as well, for time has no favourites.

Build upon the ruins of the fallen they might,

But Rome too is dust in Carthage.

The walls and pillars of the Caesars crumble and decay, the mosaics fade.

Punic and Roman voices are caged together here…forever.

As the wind whips dust among the ruins,

And the sea laps the shore,

I weep for the forgotten people of this place,

Of Carthage.

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If you interested in Carthage, there is a great trilogy by author Ross Leckie that is worth checking out. 

Recently, I also enjoyed watching the documentary Carthage - The Roman Holocaust. I'm not sure about some of the theories in this documentary but it does make a good case and takes the viewer to some spectacular locales. Well worth an hour and a half of your time. I was inspired to look through some of my old photos of Tunisia after watching this documentary and was thus inspired write this picture postcard.

Thanks for reading!

Make Me Feel Something

I’ve been told at times that I’m an overly emotional person, that I can be too sappy or quick to anger.

I don’t think there is anything wrong with feeling. It’s part of what makes being human so great. You get far more out of life when you can experience a full range of emotions. 

You also get more out of art and literature too.

That may seem obvious to most of you. Of course! When you read something you should be made to feel, that’s what makes reading fiction worthwhile!

But I’ve picked up many books that have not moved me. Me? The overly emotional person? Yes.

Why is that? Why do some books or movies bring me to tears, make me curse out loud or take a swing at an unsuspecting door (not too often that one!)?

It’s not necessarily the subject matter or the setting. One book I read that didn’t move me one iota was a story of Hannibal and his struggle with Rome – this is a story that is fraught with emotional upheaval, and yet I felt I had just read a carpet cleaning pamphlet.

That’s not to say that others didn’t feel something when reading that book, but it goes to show that writers tread a fine line through the field of potential readers. They will touch some and completely miss others.

I’m thinking out loud here. There is no hard and fast rule. We are all different and affected by myriad things.

But there is something that a writer can do, something to help him or her touch readers.

A writer should write what truly moves him or herself.

If a writer is not moved by what he or she writes, there is a definite problem. If I’m not moved to laughter, tears or fury by my own story, how can I expect my readers to feel anything?

It’s easier and more exciting than ever for writers to get their work out to readers. If one is prolific enough, one can put a book out every week.  Serials are popular again and there are some very good ones out there. There are also some that are not so good, but that is just my opinion as a reader.

I never name titles that I don’t like because I don’t think it fair to trash someone else’s work. But as writers, we should keep in mind that most people read fiction to be moved, transported, pierced through the heart.

As writers we need to make sure that our work is infused with genuine emotion, something that readers can relate to no matter the setting or period.

We should also stay true to ourselves and our vision, because the moment we leave that path we lose readers.

I try to explore my fears and fantasies, the things that inspire me to no end.

The ancient Greeks believed in the emotional arc of a story and how it was essential to audience fulfillment. As a writer, I want that too. For if I don’t adhere to that journey and fill it with a whole range of emotion, by the end of the story I feel that something is distinctly lacking.

Whether reading or writing, when I flip over that last page or type that last word, I want to feel an exhilarating thrill creep up my spine, I want to be weeping, sighing or laughing.

When the story ends, I want that final image to resonate for a long time, to haunt me. I want all stories to make me feel something that is genuine, beautiful and human.

Otherwise, what’s the bloody point?

Picture Postcard #7 - Unto the Goddess

At midsummer, the island earth bakes beneath Helios’ gaze. Insects whirr, peasants retreat to their hovels and animals laze in orchard shade.

Hues of green, brown and ochre blanket the fertile valley from salt sea to rocky peak. Splashes of yellow and orange, purple and red abound amid tangles of ivy and grape vine.

As the fiery sun at last dips into the western waves, a hush falls over all, a sigh to melt troubled limbs and sorry spirits. Crickets join the chorus and the lady Selene rises silver and full.

When the fire within the temple kindles, it is time.

At the edge of a grove, a young satyr sits on a moss-covered rock. His eyes take in the moon, the valley and the temple before he closes them and raises his reed pipe to his lips.

The music is soft and sweet as the dew that gathers upon the ground about his hooves. Night comes on and the constellations wink.

From all directions comes laughter like crystal water, the voices of Nymphs, Naiads and Dryads come to frolic beneath the full moon and pay homage to their lady. They skip and dance and twirl, barefoot upon the dewy grass with crowns of flowers in their long-flowing hair.

More satyrs come, jumping with excitement, mischievous grins beneath craggy brows topped with ivy and grape vines. They crash onto the scene to embrace the spirits of wood, field, grove and stream.

Cries of delight and jollity lift into the sky and they all spin and laugh and lift olive wood cups brimming with wine to their lips.

Cornucopia overflow with the fruits of the land and baskets of bread, tenderly made of the goddess’ grain, pass among the throng.

Then the centaurs come down out of the mountains, dark and lean and warlike. But this night, their cudgels lay at home. They come to celebrate, to shake the earth with their rhythmic dance - war made merry.

The torches are burning bright and the music reaches a fevered crescendo as flute, tambourine, aulos, systrum and drum rise and fall with the voices of all. Faster and faster the gathered whirl and laugh and jump and roll…

Until it all stops.

Upon the road, lit by moonlight, approach the Kouros and Kore. They are young and beautiful and loving, new blossoms to the world about them.

The gathering parts for them, a sea of smiles and admiration as they approach the temple where offerings pile high against the walls. Before the door, a throne is set and the Kouros and Kore kneel before it.

All sound goes out of the world as the goddess steps out of her house, her bare feet soft upon the marble step, barely touching the blades of grass beneath her as she steps down.

Demetra.

All know her here, love her. And she loves them, and gives to them.

The goddess’ white robes flow about her like a clinging mist and her wheat-gold hair falls in perfect strands down the length of her back. Her head is high and proud, and the stars spin in her sky-blue eyes.

A hand upon the cheek of the Kouros and Kore welcomes youth to the gathering and all bow before the goddess as she sits with the youths to either side.

The goddess smiles and laughs, a sound to lift the hearts and spirits of all. She nods and the revels explode once more in the midsummer night.

There is yet time before the dawn and the heat of day, for song and dance, for laughter and love.

Demetra smiles and all is well with the world…

The Hero's Journey

'The Path'

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been re-reading a book that all writers and lovers of history and mythology should have on their shelf: The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell.

Every time I pick up this book, I’m struck by the truth of what Campbell says. I think of all of the stories that have struck a chord with me over the years, and the things they have in common. Campbell says:

“The archetypes to be discovered and assimilated are precisely those that have inspired, throughout the annals of human culture, the basic images of ritual, mythology, and vision… The hero... has died as a modern man – he has been reborn. His second solemn task and deed therefore… is to return then to us, transfigured, and teach the lessons he has learned of life renewed.”

(The Hero with a Thousand Faces; Third Edition, 1973)

Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed
in the Enchanted Forest

If you stop to look at storytelling, past and present, you can indeed see the recurring themes and archetypes of myth. They are everywhere. And this applies not only to western literature but to storytelling across time, across cultures.

In studying Greek, Roman and Celtic literature and mythology, medieval and Arthurian romance, I have noticed that I am drawn to certain elements. It’s not just because of the way these stories are told, or the language the writers or poets used. Let’s remember that the beauty of language is often lost in translation.

No. What draws me in to these stories are common elements that appeal to something deep within my psyche, the blood in my veins, the fibre of my muscles, the dreams at the back of my mind. My inner youth, adventurer, lover, warrior and wise man all yearn for the stories that are food for the soul.

Without that food I begin to starve.

Such is the power of storytelling.

Sir Galahad upon his Quest

The Hero with a Thousand Faces takes you into a world of great depth, of ideas and examples. There is too much to be able to do it justice in one blog post. However, in the book there is a chart of the Hero’s Journey that I believe can be infinitely useful to a writer.

Oftentimes, writers can get stuck, feel as though they have written themselves into a corner and are not sure how to get out of it. Perhaps they are not sure where to turn next, which path their protagonist should take. Other times, a writer will wonder whether a certain path in the story will appeal to the reader, or else put them off so much that they go off in search of another adventure.

Campbell’s chart of the Hero’s Journey is an excellent point of reference, a tool or weapon to help a writer to get out of the traps that can halt the creative process.

I think it prudent here to quote Campbell on what the journey entails:

“The mythological hero, setting forth from his commonday hut or castle, is lured, carried away, or else voluntarily proceeds, to the threshold of adventure. There he encounters a shadow presence that guards the passage. The hero may defeat or conciliate this power and go alive into the kingdom of the dark (brother-battle, dragon-battle; offering, charm), or be slain by the opponent and descend in death (dismemberment, crucifixion). Beyond the threshold, then, the hero journeys through a world of unfamiliar yet strangely intimate forces, some of which severely threaten him (tests), some of which give magical aid (helpers). When he arrives at the nadir of the mythological round, he undergoes a supreme ordeal and gains his reward. The triumph may be represented as the hero’s sexual union with the goddess-mother of the world (sacred marriage), his recognition by the father-creator (father atonement), his own divinization (apotheosis), or again – if the powers have remained unfriendly to him – his theft of the boon he came to gain (bride-theft, fire-theft); intrinsically it is an expansion of consciousness and therewith of being (illumination, transfiguration, freedom). The final work is that of the return. If the powers have blessed the hero, he now sets forth under their protection (emissary); if not, he flees and is pursued (transformation flight, obstacle flight). At the return threshold the transcendental powers must remain behind; the hero re-emerges from the kingdom of dread (return, resurrection). The boon that he brings restores the world (elixir).”

(The Hero with a Thousand Faces; p.245-246, Third Edition, 1973)

Luke Skywalker
with his father's sword

As I read this, all the stories that I ever loved flash through my mind. I see heroes such as Arthur, Frodo and even Luke Skywalker, taken from their quiet worlds and cast into the unknown with the aid of such legendary characters as Merlin, Gandalf, Obi-Wan Kenobi and others.

Often, a hero experiences an event that thrusts him into the adventure. I think of Odysseus being ordered to go to war at Troy and leave his wife and baby behind, or in the Mabinogi when Pwyll Prince of Dyfed goes into the otherworld of Annwn. Jason confronts Pelias and ends up on an expedition to find the Golden Fleece, the proposed price for getting back his father’s throne. There are so many examples. And often times, there is a sword: Arthur’s Excalibur, Luke’s father’s lightsaber or Bilbo’s sword, Sting, which goes to Frodo.

The tests are often what make up the bulk of the story which takes place in

Odysseus and Calypso

unknown realms. There are helpers in the form of other people, gods or animals along the way. In the Lord of the Rings, Frodo has the help of Aragorn (a hero on his own journey – a journey within a journey) and the rest of the Fellowship, elves, dwarves and others. Arthur has his knights who each have their own adventures. Theseus has Ariadne whose aid provides him with the key to the labyrinth. Jason gets aid from the blind prophet Phineas who tells him how to reach the Golden Fleece.

When the hero reaches what Campbell calls the ‘nadir of the mythological round’ there is an ordeal and reward. Odysseus passes through death in the form of Scylla and Charybdis to be washed up on the shore of the goddess Calypso’s island. He spends time there, loved by the goddess, and regains his strength before embarking on the final stages of his journey.

Jason and the Golden Fleece

Other themes at the nadir are the attainment, by theft of gift, of the elixir that is sought by the hero. This could be the Golden Fleece, the Holy Grail, or the promise of a return home in the case of Odysseus. The promise of a healing of the land, of body, of spirit is in the hero’s sights. But the journey is not yet over.

More challenges emerge before the hero can cross that threshold once more to get back into the known realms. Arthur must face Mordred, Odysseus must still reach Ithaca before destroying the suitors and taking back his home. Luke must escape the Death Star to destroy it in a final battle.

Arthur receives Excalibur

Once the final confrontations are achieved, the hero achieves peace for himself and his realm, an overall healing of wounds and righting of wrongs that gives way to a golden time. If the hero dies in the attempt, he goes on to a better place and his example will be one that inspires future generations (e.g. Arthur going to Avalon).

You can take almost any story from any culture and apply the elements Campbell mentions.

The elements of the hero’s journey are universal.

Because these archetypes, these themes, are a part of our storytelling tradition, we often include them automatically in our writing without thinking about it.

Frodo and Gandalf

But a writer often is the hero on a journey and does not always know where the road will lead. We need helpers, a sword (or pen!) and certainly divine help and inspiration should not be shunned. 

Sometimes writers need a guide like Joseph Campbell to put one back on track. And that’s ok!

Odysseus and Arthur, Luke and Frodo, all had help. So did Pwyll and Yvain, Herakles and Jason. It’s not cowardly to receive aid. The true test comes when one decides what to do with the aid provided.

Whether I’m writing the first words, or flipping the first pages, of a new story I relish the adventure to come, the trials and tribulations, learning from the unknown and gathering the courage to slay my own dragons.

I like to think that that is what being human is all about. If you look at it a certain way, you’ll see that our stories are more a part of us than most people think. They are not whimsical flights of fancy that have no real relation to us as human beings, they are a deep part of us and if we ignore or forget those stories, we lose a bit of ourselves. 

The 'Elixir' of Life
Sir Percival at the Chapel of the Grail

Thanks for reading! 

If you would like to find out more, here are a few places to start:

The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell

ThePower of Myth – A conversation between Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers (filmed at Skywalker Ranch). This is also available as an audio book. 

StarWars: The Magic of Myth - This is a fantastic book, not only for Star Wars fans but everyone with an interest in mythology. George Lucas was friends with Joseph Campbell and adhered closely to the ideas of the hero's journey in the creation of his brilliant story 'A long time ago... In a galaxy far, far away...'