Or Where Truth is Hopefully At Least As Entertaining As Fiction…
This must be a standard film director’s phrase: “That was great! Perfect, movement, lights, everything. Excellent! Can you do it again? Oh, and don’t look at the camera this time.”
Being part of a documentary is really an adventure. How DO you turn a totally boring stay-at-home illustrator into someone you would willingly watch for more than five minutes on a screen? Well, it’s beyond me. But, apparently not beyond François Boetschi, Anders Banke and the folks at Solid Entertainment.
Entering stage left and exiting stage right (and vice versa) many many times and chattering on at great length has so far been enormous fun.
At least I don’t look at the camera any more…
Take a look at the web site.
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The Sea Queen’s Secret: Part Three
Ondal rowed for hours, until the sun set and then rose again. Belincompris stood like a figurehead in the prow, searching the waves.
The entry to the Sea Queen’s realm is always guarded by dragons, but then, that was only to be expected. Knights know about these things, and after a courteous exchange involving much praise for ancestors and such, they were allowed to pass.
Ondal was very much afraid, but trusted his boat, which had never failed him even in the roughest of seas. An enormous whirlpool appeared before them, and Ondal’s boat skimmed down down down into the depths of the sea. Through the transparent walls of water, they could see huge creatures slowly rolling and twisting, and many writhing tentacles brushed the surface. Belincompris seemed not the least troubled, which only partially reassured Ondal. The light left the water, which became the deepest of blues, then black. Down down they went, until a green glow bathed them on all sides, and the boat came to rest at a coral quay.
A magnificent palace stood before them, the gates flanked by enormous creatures that seemed all spikes and claws that they clicked and clacked menacingly as Belincompris strode past, Ondal keeping close to his heels. The inside of the palace was lit with the kind of light that the ocean sometimes relects on the bottoms of boats or overhanging rocks -shifting, shimmering, never still. More creatures, with mermen mounted in high saddles, were ranged rank upon rank down the sides of a vast hall. Colossal columns of water held up a vault higher than they could see. At the far end, seated upon a throne of pearl, sat the Queen of the Sea. Ondal pulled off his hood and bowed his head.
“Mortals;” said the Queen, her voice like the hiss of outgoing waves, “why have you come?”
“To right a wrong, oh Mightiest of Queens,” replied Belincompris.
“Many wrongs have sundered us from land dwellers.” she snapped. “It would seem you have set yourself too great a task.”
“One only, said the knight, “and to heal a hurt, perhaps,” he added, peering closer at the Queen. “I think that perhaps you did not always shun the shores of men who fish from boats.”
Suddenly, the Queen put her face in her hands.”You have clear sight from under your dark helm Sir Knight. I knew my son from the instant he entered my kingdom. But he is a stranger to me, and I to him. You bring me a bitter gift, is that how you would heal my hurt?”
“No my Lady, some things are not meant to be, but love cannot always know which. Life goes on as it can, but love may go a different path.”
“Is that all you have to say?” interrupted the Queen. “Your words mean no more than the noise of the sea in an empty shell. My heart cannot be mended by words.”
“Madame?” Ondal began then stopped, too awestruck to continue.
“Joy and bitterness is your name for me,” said the Queen. “Both are mine in equal measure. I loved your father dearly, but it was not be be.”
“How…?” murmured Ondal.
“I was young, a wild and willful princess, when first I saw your father, hauling fish into his poor boat in the midst of the sea. I was afraid, but did not have the good sense to leave. Instead, I chased fish into his net, and finally he leaned from his boat to peer down into the depths. As I said, I was young. We fell in love.”
“What were we to do, I could never live among men, nor could he live under the sea. Never our peoples would have allowed it, neither would have welcomed either. I was to be Queen one day, he was a poor fisher youth. At last, I vowed never to see him again. For weeks, he rode his tiny boat and called my name to the waves. Finally a storm came, too strong even for him. The boat was overturned, I came too late to save him. His face was so beautiful and still; he had a smile on his lips. I buried him deep under the sea.”
Then… then you were born. I could not keep you, so I set you in a boat, to drift ashore among others of your kind, where you might live happily. But now you have come here, and things are twice undone, and the pieces of my broken heart have been returned to me.”
“My Lady,” ventured the knight, “Happiness is hard to find on this earth, but sadness is as plentiful as pebbles on a beach. Perhaps the happiness of others must suffice. More courage is required, though.”
The Queen’s eyes flashed like a storm on the horizon. “Who are you, storybook Knight of the Tattered Tunic, to presume to give lessons to a Queen?” He guards moved a step closer, their creatures clacking their pincers and claws.
Belincompris seemed unperturbed. “It is easier to remain eternally in mourning than to risk seeing new-found happiness lost. Your son’s people starve on the edge of your plentiful kingdom. Learn to give instead of brooding on what is forever lost. Some stories are ever the same, be they in books or not”
“You do not offer me much, sir Knight. The heart welcomes what it knows, and fears what is new. Sorrow has too long been my fare. Nonetheless, I will try to do as you say. Ondal, I will toss pebbles at your shutters when the moon is hid. You may make a place the Queen of the Deep Sea to sit by your fire for a few hours from time to time. Perhaps we shall at last come to know one another.”
When Ondal rowed home, shoals of fish large and small followed in his wake, and the nets were no longer drawn up empty. In return, the villagers threw their amulets into the sea and no longer made the bad luck sign if they glimpsed a scaly form among the waves.
Ondal eventually married a pretty fisher girl, and their children wore necklaces of bright coral, given them by a regal grandmother who would never visit overlong.
As for the knight, well, now that his quest was over, he was rather at a loss for what to do. He might have returned to try and regain his lady’s love, but decided to stay in the Sea Queen’s kingdom. His rusty helmet and mail he traded for a shimmering coat of bright scales and a helm of nacre, and sailors thought to be lost at sea would tell breathless tales of being ferried to land by a stranger wearing a most curious helm, astride a seahorse of prodigious size.
RETAIL THERAPY
The “what-can-I-buy-where-how-much?” section should be up and on line soon. Admittedly not exhaustive (yet), hopefuly it will at least direct queries to places better equipped to respond. (Most of these places end up being amazon, either .com or .co.uk for the Tolkien-related material, but other books and such will be ferretted out and purchasing info provided. Many are out of print, but you never know what might be lurking in the dusty corner of a warehouse…)
SAINT-NAZAIRE
The exhibition will be moving to Saint-Nazaire and opening at the Médiathèque Etienne Caux on March 9th. I will be there on the 10th for a signature session at 3 p.m., followed by the opening of the exhibition at 6.
COMMON COLDS
Just a quick note to alert the mailing list: the “My.Doom” virus is still floating about, undoubtedly from infected e-mails or subscribers. Please update your anti-virus software if you’ve not already done so.
