Every year, I like to write a little postscript to my September Series posts — something that, while it might be congruent with them in some way, is nonetheless a digression. This year, given that the Series has been comprised entirely of creative works by me, I wanted to do something a little different, and something a little self-indulgent — I wanted to write up a few comments on each piece, to explain something of their origins and what I was interested in working with. This is, of course, a wholly unnecessary exercise in many ways. Ideally, each piece should…
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By Khazad-dûm, the black pit rank,Hewed dwarf and orc in vengeful rage.To gaping gate the shortbeard sprang,Spirit raising, eyes a-blazing,Axe-stroke hewing, orc-king falling.Yet sudden stopped he at gateway’s edge,Flames espying, shadows crawling.‘Not now,’ Dáin said, and back he stepped.By Ravenhill, green-mound rising,Stood dwarf and elf, grim-grudgeful waiting.With ringing voice the fullbeard spake,Of hoard-gold glowing, glory growing,Mattocks raising with new-king’s raving.Yet doubt remained in dwarf-lord’s mind of⏝king’s-wrath heedless, violence staving.‘Not now,’ Dáin said, and held his step.By Erebor, grey mountain bare,Pressed man on dwarf in desperate strife.In fortress mouth the whitebeard stood,Red-axe swinging, war-cry ringing,Forward pressed the foe to breach the…
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“Was it worth it?” “Eh?” “Achieving the Grail? Was it worth it?” Sir Bors blinked in confusion at the question. “Why do you ask?” Sir Gawain paused nervously, seeming surprised at his own boldness. The two knights sat in the great hall, and it was empty and dark. All the other members of the Court had departed following the feast, to sport or to hunting or to further feasting in private chambers — or, in the case of a few of that esteemed company’s more venerable members, to bed. Only Bors and Gawain had remained, for they had had a…
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I shouldn’t really be writing about this, of course, much less sharing it. But I’m at such a loss as to understanding this particular case, I feel I have no choice but to make my problem – and, I suppose, the problem of my patient – known to at least one confidante, and my trust in your discretion is exceedingly high. However, in the interest of professional integrity, I must assure you that at least the name of my client has been altered, as have some minor details, and with any luck, his identity will thus remain anonymous. My client! …
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But the “consolation” of fairy-tales has another aspect than the imaginative satisfaction of ancient desires. Far more important is the Consolation of the Happy Ending. Almost I would venture to assert that all complete fairy-stories must have it. At least I would say that Tragedy is the true form of Drama, its highest function; but the opposite is true of Fairy-story. Since we do not appear to possess a word that expresses this opposite—I will call it Eucatastrophe. The eucatastrophic tale is the true form of fairy-tale, and its highest function. The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy…
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