Reads and Links: Book Arts (Part 1)

Do you think every traditional – i.e. ‘dead tree’ book – is just a plain old block of paper with a cover?  Think again! The book arts are alive and well! And they have their own e-journal (which is free to download and read), making the world of bookbinding and book arts accessible to everyone with the right website address…

I give you The Bonefolder.

During the next couple of weeks I hope to showcase some of the best the book arts have to offer – small presses, handmade books and the people behind them. They show me just how out of the box a book can be and gives me a chance to re-think the creative spark behind a few random ideas… You don’t need a lot of words to tell a whole story.

Cover of The Bonefolder, Volume 2, Number 1

Some other links and reads:

One of the very good things about digitizing old or out-of-print books is that you can read it without hunting across the world for a copy too expensive to buy or simply find out if it’s to your liking before you buy the book. For instance, here you can read GK Chesterton’s works. 

Worldbuilding Wednesday - The Keepers: Their Beginning and Their Houses

The start of the Keepers was during the time of the Great Sundering, when there was a consensus that the knowledge of the peoples of Airthai must be kept in a safe place during the wars, attacks, earthquakes and floods across the lands of Airthai. At that time the greater libraries on the eastern coast of the newly formed Continent gathered together all the copies of books and annals and even artworks that they could. The people who gathered these books were called the Gatherers of the Keepers of Knowledge. Books and scholars even came from the Eastern Isles, brought on the trading ships for safe keeping.

When the Saerímavolk was attacked by the Flotaferan - which saw part of the Saerímavolk trek inland and form the Eargestreon - it was decided that a type of army should be formed from the surrounding peoples; who could be called upon immediately to keep their people safe. With them there would be scholars well-versed in the politics and the history of the peoples involved who could act as diplomats.

A fortress was built just north of the Saerímavolk lands and this was the first House of the Keepers. These Keepers later became known as the Eastern Keepers once other Houses were built.

The second House that was built was that of Holt Haliern, in the Midlands. The third and fourth houses, which were built nearly simultaneously, were the Houses of Théotriewe and Eamidtheo. These three Houses are all in the Midlands. Although the names of Holt Haliern and Théotriewe have stayed the same, that of Eamidtheo changed to Ameragh after the Lady Wíslic Ameragh's death. Because of this, and his great sorrow, Síldu did not return to this most southern House of the Keepers for many years, but stayed at Holt Haliern and Théotriewe.

In the Southern Lands, first the towers of the Khallahna and later the Khalné's Tower, along with the libraries of the countries of the Southern Lands, served as the repositories of the books and knowledge. Only after the Dragon Keepers had left the southern shores was a true House of Keepers, known as the Southern Keepers, started in the Southern Lands.

In the Western Lands, the first House of Keepers built was the House of the Rún; situated on the west of the Ealdbergs. A second was built on the western coast of the Continent. In the Northern Lands only one House was built; known as the House of the White Dragon.

The Sign of the Keepers of Holt Haliern

Next week: The Keepers: The Wíslic and the Elders (And I’m hoping to have the pre-Sundering map finished by then as well.)

What would have been, what will be, and mythology links

Well, I wanted to do a post about marginalia, but it soon grew from one post to a bunch of posts. Which leaves me with rather starting the posts next week; when they have been spat upon, polished and furnished with links and pictures. But, in keeping with Rambling Tuesdays, I can say that I’ve just about finished a couple of flash pieces to be sent out and have some outlines and notes jotted in note books and on my phone. But I am also spending a lot of time on the ever-present studies as I’m rambling on towards the end of a chapter, which I am trying to finish this week.

Odin and Sleipnir

Seeing as I’m wading knee-deep in Norse myths, here’s a couple of links for online perusal of many fascinating mythologies:

•          Old Norse News
•          Germanic Mythology
•         Mythologies of the World
•          Folklore and Mythology Electronic Texts
•        Ancient World Cultures

Enjoy!

Fiction Monday: Eldarion Whargahn

Eldarion watched his brothers disappear into the trees before he turned his back on the Rëaghor Forest. At the crossroads before him there were two choices for any traveller: travel through the forest or travel around it. Deep ruts led north and south, following the road most often used. But on this road, grass and weeds were matted where people had passed fled into the forest. The forest and its surrounds had been the Erewhar's home for almost as long as their tales remembered. He glanced behind him, checking that the last few stragglers of the Whargahn clan had disappeared into the shadows of the forest; each carrying only a small bundle of possessions. They had no time to wait for a cripple. He clenched and unclenched his hand around the green hilt of his short sword. At least he could hold the Khalvér back for a while and give his people a chance to escape a taint to their souls.

The moon showed only half her face, but the light was enough to see by for the Erewhar. He glanced at the four stars that pointed south to where his people had come from so many generations before; before they had betrayed the Ahma on that fateful day – the choice that had led to their fall. He heard the figures approaching before he took his eyes from the stars. For a moment he wondered if the Erewhar would remember him.

Cursed vermin. Did they truly still think that the Erewhar would join them in serving the ever-cursed Lewjan? The Erewhar may have fallen once, but would never again stoop to that level. His people would be redeemed. He rested his eyes on the dark figures and felt the power of the Talent being awakened deep inside him.  

"Stay where you are!" he called to the figures, not expecting them to stop, but hoping that they would step into the road now that they know they had been spotted. Three of the figures did just that. He couldn't make out their faces, but knew the golden sigil they wore upon their breasts. There was no doubt about their identity – Khalvér; and Servants of the Shadow. For all he knew Alzer, the boy they had sent as messenger, lay dead on his way to the Khalné. Would the Khalné arrive in time even if they had received the message? He drew his sword a couple of inches from its sheath and said a prayer for the redemption of all their souls.

One of the Khalvér lifted his hand, but it was neither in greeting, nor in warning. Eldarion felt the air around him thicken and press against his chest, leaving his breathing laboured. He drew strength from somewhere inside himself. The Other, the Elders called the source that the Erewhar was able to draw upon. Part of the Talent that the Khalné used, but it was different in many ways: more potent, but also more unpredictable, and addictive like the Talent was not – tainted somehow by deeds long past. He already felt the Lewjan’s shadow calling to him. He did not move, but pushed against the Khalvér's magic. His breathing became normal once more and he drew his sword fully. They laughed when he took two steps closer to them and they saw that he stumbled as he walked.

"Fight me fair," he said and his voice rang out across the grassy field. He fought off a second Khalvér that tried to bind him, lifting his arm to keep his balance. More shadows appeared in the tall grass. He would never be able to fight them all off and live. His heart beat faster still and cold sweat beaded on his brow. Perhaps he was not meant to live through this night. A strange glow showed in the palm of one of the Khalvér, proving that he summoned his power from the Shadow.

The Khalvér strode towards him. Towards the woods. Towards his people. He had to save his people, no matter what the cost. Eldarion flung out all the power inside him at the Khalvér, striking with his sword at the same time and receiving a pounding in return that sent him to his knees and crushed his fingers around the hilt. He cursed himself for letting them know the extent of his Talent so soon.

The leader of the band of Khalvér, a Werlea, stepped forward. He drew his own blue-black blade from the sheath at his hip. The intricately wrought blade seemed to glow with the blood it had drunk before. Tempered in Ahma's blood, the word went about these swords. And what was Erewhar but fallen Ahma? What was he? He felt his heart quail and the Talent dimmed. The Werlea’s voice was emotionless.

“There will be no peace for the Erewhar. No life. No redemption. You will join with us or die.”

Eldarion’s blade was forced to the ground and cleft into the sand. There were too many, and they were too strong. What was so much of the Lewjan’s magic against his tainted Talent? His heart sank, his breathing slowed, crushed from his body by the Khalvér.

He felt a faint pulse around him. He took a quick gulp of air before it was pushed away once more. Eldarion closed his eyes and concentrated on the faint pulse of Talent.

Fear only seems to lessen the Talent you’re given, he remembered being taught. He pushed once more with all the might he had, joining that faint pulse. Three of the Khalvér dropped to their knees. By their howling he knew they had been stilled and left to face the Shadow’s Lord without their dark magic.

A Werlea stepped up to him. Intricate tattooed patterns partially hid the burst veins and discolouration around his eyes. From his belt he drew a short, twisted blade. The Servant of the Shadow laughed at Eldarion as he tried to lift his sword. But as he struck with his blade at the young Erewhar's heart, the stroke glanced away and threw him off balance. Eldarion’s grip around his sword's hilt loosened, and pain flooded his arm as feeling returned.

Eldarion glanced around, feeling the pulse of Talent grow stronger. Then he saw the figures in their light cloaks. The Khalné had arrived. There was a chance for redemption still. The Erewhar were saved. He was saved. 

Photo by Thomas Schaeffer

Ageless Words Friday: The Song of Wandering Aengus

This poem is copied from the book The Poets’ Company (1951[1]), containing English poems selected by E.W. Parker. It is a small red volume, bound in cloth and with a faded name written on the side of the pages in pencil. I picked it up at a local library sale (where I’m known as the ‘girl looking for old books’) and found some of the pages filled with class notes and some doodles which were probably done during a not-so-interesting class.

One of the poets included in the volume is William Butler Yeats; represented by four poems including “The Song of Wandering Aengus”. Below is the poem and the poem set to music, performed by Nóirín ní Riain (and the free – and legal – mp3 can be downloaded here[2]).

I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

And cut and peeled a hazel wand,

And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing

And moth-like stars were flickering out,

I dropped the berry in a stream

And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor

I went to blow the fire a-flame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And some one called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ran

And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done

The silver apples of the moon,

The golden apples of the sun.

"I went out to the hazel wood..."

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[1] First published 1939.

[2] With thanks to Marc Gunn and his wonderful Celtic mp3 Magazine.

Worldbuilding Wednesday – The Four Stars, The Sign of the Keepers

In the previous Worldbuilding Wednesday, I referred to the four stars which not only show direction in Airthai, but is also used in the symbol the Keepers wear. These ‘four stars’ are also mentioned in the short piece about Eldarion Wharghan and the Erewhar:

The moon showed only half her face, but the light was enough to see by for the Erewhar. He glanced at the four stars that pointed south to where his people had come from so many generations before; before they had betrayed the Ahma on that fateful day – a choice that had led to their fall.

I’ll admit that I’m not very good at spotting or pointing out all the constellations of the southern sky (of Earth…), but the two which I’m at least able to spot without charts or making myself dizzy is Orion and the Southern Cross (I live in a city as well, so there aren’t that many stars visible to spot). The Southern Cross[1] has always held a special meaning to me; probably also because it is mentioned many times in local literature and music.

The Southern Cross

When I first wrote the piece about Eldarion it slipped in and I thought it worked; so why not? By extrapolating the possible different meanings I could give to these stars – working with the number 4 as well – I thought that it would make the perfect ‘static’ symbol for the Keepers. Where every house has a colour, letter or other mark to show rank and house, they needed a symbol common to all of the houses.

Sketch of the Keepers' Symbol

This sign is made up of a four-pointed star; made by linking the four stars in the constellation. In the case of the symbol of Holt Haliern’s Keepers, two h’s are added to a green star.  Not just pretty, but also practical when it comes to embroidering the symbol on a cloak or another piece of clothing.

In next week’s Worldbuilding Wednesday: The Keepers of Airthai

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[1] I’m only able to see four of the five stars with the naked eye (without squinting a lot)… and this is another world. So there can be only four stars. And four already has many other meaning attributed to it, making it a much easier choice!

Ageless Words Friday: John Dowland’s “Weep you no more, sad fountains”

For this week’s Ageless Words, I quote again one of John Dowland’s songs; a chanson – c. 1603 – from his Third Booke of Songes.

Weep you no more, sad fountains;

What need you flow so fast?

Look how the snowy mountains

Heaven’s sun doth gently waste.

But my sun’s heavenly eyes

View not your weeping

That now lies sleeping,

Softly, now softly lies

Sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,

A rest that Peace begets.

Doth not the sun rise smiling

When fair at e’en he sets?

Rest you then, rest, sad eyes,

Melt not in weeping

While she lies sleeping,

Softly, now softly lies

Sleeping.

(Third Booke of Songes, 1600, no.15) [1]

In this piece, Dowland's predilection to grant text rhythms mastery over musical rhythms reaches its zenith. The entire text presents the conceit of a man speaking to his eyes, two sad fountains, telling them how useless it is to weep when their Beloved is asleep and does not notice their tears. Already in the first phrase, Dowland allows the singer's rhythm to wander freely within each measure, as if his very vision were blurred by tears. Yet the effect intensifies. At the close of each stanza, as the text fixates upon the uncaring woman asleep, the composer completely breaks down the musical meter. Seven sequential times the melody sings a descending fourth motive, each time utterly isolated in its rhythm from the similarly disjunct rhythms of the accompanimental lines. Once again, the virtual tears in the text create in Dowland's hands a palpable blurring of the musical reality. Weep you no more, sad fountains has been acclaimed the gem of all Dowland's songwriting.[2]

To listen to some recordings of the song, visit the Classical Archives here, or for more Dowland music, visit their composer page here or visit http://www.johndowland.co.uk/.

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[1] The lyrics quoted here has been taken from the CD booklet of “Songs from the Labyrinth”.

[2] With thanks to the All Music Guide. This paragraph is © 2008 All Media Guide, LLC. All Music Guide is a registered trademark of All Media Guide, LLC.