Logres Besieged – http://wp.me/p5MCkF-3uQ
This is a review from my other blog, I thought it might be interesting to readers here.
Uprooted On the Trail of the Green Man by Nina Lyon Published by: Faber and Faber Ltd. Publication date: 3rd March 2016 Format: Paperback ISBN: 9780571318018 Price: £15.99
Source: Review: Uprooted by Nina Lyon
Two miles east of Blackpool lies a lake called Marton Mere which was born when the Ice Age reshaped the land leaving a glacial boulder, a huge ball of ice thousands of years old. This melted a kettle hole and in the melt water a dragon formed serpentine, curious, luxuriating in her freedom to swim and lap at the thawing earth after enduring her icy bonds.
When the first people came and paddled out on animal skin coracles they were aware of the stillness of that depth. As they fished with bone hooks within a panorama of reeds and bulrushes amidst piping calls of wetland birds they often thought they glimpsed an eye beneath, a flash of shimmery skin, wondered if it was a giant pike, something more reptilian.
The dragon knew if she appeared in their reality she’d undo their minds and landscape. So she entered the dreams of…
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The new year is on it’s way, and I’m still coughing my lungs up. Another quiet New Year for me. Not that I mind, I’m in hibernation mode. At least the rain and wind have stop, for now. It’s actually quite pleasant in a chilly sort of way.
What have I been doing?
Taking some good advice and hiding from the world to recover.
Cleaning. It’s a family tradition, I’ve got to have the house clean and the bins emptied for the New Year and all the washing done, as there’s to be no washing on New Year’s Day.
Reading Lorna Smithers’s ‘Enchanting the Shadowlands’. Review to follow.
In a silent night, many cries are stifled.
Lying-in waiting to revive a world of soul
Alight with meaning. For to love is a danger.
A stolen embrace places us in other’s hands.
Mothers, come and guard the path
Your dark wisdom will stir old seeds
Of life begotten before the age of coin.
A shiny child comes forth from nameless loins.
Truth is not chaste. It grows from earth
And rests within it, dormant in the ground.
The undead and the void trample upon her
And mistake its holy trees for cogs to grind.
No birth is painless. No night is ever safe.
Hold our hand firmly through bloody sacrifice.
Life was before the shrillest dawn of possession
And Life will be when the Mighty’s spell is broken.
This is an interesting discussion of a source I’ve read in the past. I was aware of the problems with Tacitus’s use of the Germanic tribes as a ‘comparison’ with Roman society. It’s fairly clear that Tacitus cannot be considered a primary source, since he never witnessed any of the things he recounted himself. Archaeology and other sources need to be read in conjunction with Classical sources.