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"Literature adds to reality, it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become." --C.S. Lewis

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Some Ramblings and an Extended Metaphor

I am going to take a break from posting chapters of my story (if I can call it taking a break when I have not posted in a good many weeks) and share a few of my thoughts about my current situation. I have been studying in Oxford for the past few months and throughout the last couple of days I'm realizing just how deeply and profoundly this experience has affected me.

I'm now sitting at my desk, frantically trying to write two essays which are due in the next two days, and being content. It is strange to feel so stressed out about all that I must accomplish as term comes to an end and as I prepare to leave, and yet to be so glad.

Let me describe what I mean. I am now existing in the midst of a beautiful piece of art. It engages each of my senses and more. I am now looking at a perfect Oxford picture: my computer screen (the cursor poised awaiting my jumbled thoughts to be poured out that they may be organized and perhaps made beautiful), an open book, my glasses on the desk (where they sit whenever I am thinking intensely), my friends sitting in similar attitudes around me, one of my roommates asleep as she always is while I feverishly try to get everything done in time. I am listening to Mumford and Sons and Mae. I've just come back from the library, made my friends and I tea, talked and laughed with them for longer than I ought, and am trying to schedule my time for tomorrow in a way that will allow me to get everything done.

After I leave, I will still be able to look at this work of art. I will remember it, I will look at photos, I will talk to these people. Whenever I hear certain songs, I will be reminded of these experiences and friends. But never again will I be part of this work of art. It will not be mine anymore. This is hard to come to terms with. And yet, even knowing this, I am strangely content. For I have been a part of the making of this beautiful piece of art. And even though I and my Oxford friends are the only ones who will see it and know its beauty, it has been made and made well and in this I find comfort. The pain that I already feel at the prospect of leaving is beautiful, too, for the pain is a result of how wonderful the experience itself has been. It is this which gives me the most comfort and allows me to be content in the face of impending sadness. We've made a piece of art and although we must leave it, we can leave it knowing that it is beautiful.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Quest for Faith: Chapter Six

Hello anonymous people in the blogosphere! I am so on top of this blog today, I'm surprising myself! Here is the next installment of my story; I hope you're enjoying it!

Chapter Six: A New Mission

When they uncovered their eyes, it seemed like they were in a tunnel; everything was dark around them but for a speck of light far off in the distance. They were no longer in the shop. “What’s happened?” asked James, his voice quivering with fright.

“Not a clue!” his brother replied.

“Should we go towards the light?”

“I don’t know. It seems like the only thing to do, I suppose.”

So off they walked, very cautiously, to the tiny glimmer in the distance. As they walked, either their eyes were getting used to the darkness, or the entire room was brightening, for they could now see that they were, in fact, in a cave – just like Lumley had said! “It must have worked! Have you still got the book, Al?” whispered James as they walked out of the cave. He didn’t know quite why he was whispering, but the forest into which they now emerged seemed so ancient and quiet that it seemed somehow disrespectful to make noise.

“Yes, I’ve got it,” replied Alastair in an equally hushed tone, “But it’s a bit large and awkward. If I could put the food into your sack, perhaps I could fit the book into mine. I think that would be best, as it would then be out of plain view.”

For the next few moments as the mouth of the cave, the boys struggled to arrange all of their provisions so everything would fit into the two bags. “I suppose we should begin this journey. I’m not sure how far it is, but maybe we could make it before dark,” said Alastair when they had finished, “Take out the compass.”

James fished around in his bag for a moment and eventually produced the tiny gold compass.

As they began to walk, the silence engulfed them once again. Though it was not the same eerie silence they had experience as they had laid in their beds earlier that morning, waiting for noise. They now felt such a complete and total silence neither could help but gently closing their eyes as they walked and taking in a deep breath, at peace even on their sombre quest. Even the occasional call of the blackbird did not shatter the silence, but enhanced it, exposing its true completeness.

Before they had walked even half a mile, they heard something behind them. It was a deep rumbling – the galloping of a huge horse. In a frenzy, they managed to jump into a nearby bush, which was really too small to conceal both boys, but had to do for the time being. The galloping got nearer and nearer and the boys couldn’t help but breath harder, fearful about who the rider might be.

As he got closer, the boys beheld an armoured man, though his helmet hung at his right side. A large sword dangled by his left, clinking against his armour at every step of the horse. His face was strong, but kind. He appeared to be pleasant enough, but the boys did not want to risk it, so they stayed put.

“You there!” called the man, “Do not be afraid! I’ve been expecting you. I mean you no harm!”

Unsure of whether to go out and meet him or to run in the opposite direction, the boys shakily stood up and waited. When the man got nearer, he dismounted and walked over the quivering brothers. James slid backwards a little to stand behind Alastair.

“Hello,” said the man gently, “Please, do not be afraid. I am Sir Brennan, Knight of the King. Word has spread across the land that Ogden has returned to the kingdom and is trying to retrieve the King’s book. My fellow knights managed to find Ogden and your grandfather.”

Both boys were still too afraid to correct the man and tell him that Mr. Lumley was not really their grandfather, so they said nothing. They did, however, see a symbol on the Knight’s shield which matched the one on the cover of the book.

“Ogden unfortunately managed to escape using. You need not worry about your grandfather, for he has been here before and is a good friend of the King’s. We have taken him to the castle to rest and recover. He told us you might be coming, and I was sent to retrieve the book.”

“I think we should trust him, James,” whispered Alastair to his brother, “Look – he has that symbol on his shield. It must be the King’s symbol.”

James nodded and Alastair took out the book and handed it to Sir Brennan.

“Thank you, lads,” replied Brennan as he secured it in his saddle bag. “I regret to tell you that I must leave now. I must ride to the castle in order to deliver the book personally into the safety of the Court Guards. You must travel north to meet up with the King’s son, who will keep you safe until this crisis has passed.”

“How will we find him?” asked young James from behind his big brother.

“As long as you are looking for him,” replied Brennan with a smile, “he will find you. Be brave as you go.”

With that, he returned to his horse, mounted, and rode nobly off into the forest.

The boys were still a bit shaken up by all that had happened since waking up. It had been only a matter of hours ago, but it seemed like years. The two sat down and gobbled up the food they had brought and drank nearly a quarter of their water supply. By the time they began their northward hike, it was gone one o’clock.

A few hours later they emerged from the forest. Open fields lay before them, not bound by fences or gates, seemingly untouched by human hands at all. No ugly roads scarred the land or unsightly wires marred the view. Only vast open meadows could be seen and the wind swept - unhindered by buildings or other handmade structures - across the hills which swelled like waves on a restless sea. Through small forest glades, over fields and hills they travelled until night crept upon them.

“We’ve got to find him soon!” groaned James, weary with the length of the journey.

“I don’t think it’s up to us,” said Alastair as he plopped down on a log to take a sip of water. “Brennan said the Prince would find us. It’s up to his timing.” He passed the canteen to his brother. “We’re running out of water, and I’m getting very hungry.”

“Me too, “agreed James, “Do you know how to find food out here? And what about shelter?”

“I think we should keep going as long as we possibly can. What if he comes looking for us in the night and we are sound asleep?”

“But Alastair, I’m so tired!”

Despite James’ protests, the boys continued on for an hour more, using the torch as a light. Both were very afraid in the darkness and every snap of a twig – even if they had snapped it under their own foot – made them jump back with a gasp.

They went on as far as they could, but fatigue overtook them. With great difficulty, they managed to drag themselves into a small thicket and create beds of some nearby reeds underneath a fallen tree. The ground was cold and wet with the dew that had already accumulated. Such was the weariness of the boys, they did not pay any mind to this and fell into a deep sleep the moment their heads hit the damp pillow of leaves.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Quest for Faith: Chapter Five

So, it has been about a year since I even thought about updating my blog! The school year hit me in full force and it was all I could to to keep up with school assignments, let alone blog. However, the year went very well and I am now home for the summer. As life has slowed down for a little while, I thought perhaps I would post the next chapter of my story for you to read. I hope to eventually blog a bit more about myself and use it more like a journal, but for now I will continue with the story as it is not very long and will be finished soon. Enjoy the next installment of "Quest for Faith".

Chapter Five: An Open Book

The boys reread the note before ripping it up thoroughly. “I suppose we ought to get ready,” remarked Alastair as he began cautiously up the stairs. While James put on his tan trousers and blue jumper, Alastair got some biscuits, apples and two canteens of water. As butter was rationed for the war effort and therefore scarce, Alastair put some jam between two pieces of bread to make some sandwiches. He then grabbed the torch and stuffed it into a canvas sack before rooting around in the drawers of the desk for a compass. He then got into his clothes.

The two stood in front of the book, caps on, bags in hand. “Are you afraid?” asked James.

“A bit,” replied Alastair, grabbing his brother’s hand.

It was like jumping into a cold pool. It took them both a few minutes to pluck up the courage to open the book. It was Alastair who did it. James clung tightly to his big brother’s hand as he leaned forward and took hold of the cover of the book. He flung the cover open forcibly, yet still they remained in the shop. Feeling confused and a bit relieved, the boys sat down in their favourite spot to think. Alastair brought the book and tried again. Still nothing.

Yet as they sat, something was happening. The room was getting very bright, but neither could figure out where the light was coming from. It became so bright in the room that they had to hide their eyes in their jackets. Then, with one great flash, everything went dark.