I get asked that question a lot. And in truth, there are many answers, and I hope to describe others in their own time. But at this time I'm going to address one of the more illogical, romantic, and sentimental thoughts running like a backcurrent to more pragmatic justifications: the British Isles are a land of magic.
Middle-Earth. Narnia. Westeros. Gwynedd. The High One's Realm. Midkemia. Hogwarts. Camelot and Avalon. The Land. MacLeod's Highlands. 221-B Baker St. St. Mary Mead. Catherine and Lear's moors. The druids of Stonehenge. Some place with cheese.
Modern mythology is riddled with cloaked references to Britain, a land where leprechauns, elves, and boggarts still peek out from behind Oberon's robes. Whether directly set within Britain (Christie, Doyle, Brontë, Moore, Shakespeare, Bradley, Rowling), openly associated through thinly veiled allegory (Tolkien, Lewis, Martin, Kurtz), or built upon the foundations established by the above greats (Jordan, Feist, Brooks, and pretty much everybody else), Britain is near the heart of all great English-language fables.
These are the stories on which I was weaned, and a distant longing for those faraway woods, foggy moors, craggy rock faces, crashing northern seas, and ancient ruins was etched into my subconscious long before I could find England on a map.
These are foolish daydreams, of course, far from the practical day-to-day concerns of earning a living, raising children, and setting aside for a rainy day. Still, if one can live out the odd dream while still meeting the obligations of modern life...why not seek to conjoin the two?
These are foolish daydreams, of course, far from the practical day-to-day concerns of earning a living, raising children, and setting aside for a rainy day. Still, if one can live out the odd dream while still meeting the obligations of modern life...why not seek to conjoin the two?
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment