Speaker 1: Cool Zone Media, Cool Zone Media book Club. That's always
Speaker 1: been our introduction to Cool Zone Media book Club. Hi,
Speaker 1: I'm your host, Margaret Kiljoy. Every week on Cool Zone
Speaker 1: Media book Club, I bring you stories so you don't
Speaker 1: have to do the reading, because I do it for you.
Speaker 1: I think that is our actual official slogan. But if
Speaker 1: you're checking in, if you're tuning in now, you're tuning
Speaker 1: into part two of a story, because part one was
Speaker 1: last week. In part one of Zvend and his Brethren,
Speaker 1: we haven't even met Zvend of the Brethren having instead,
Speaker 1: we met Cecilla in this story by William Morris written
Speaker 1: in eighteen fifty six or published in eighteen fifty six,
Speaker 1: who knows when you fucking wrote it. Probably eighteen fifty six.
Speaker 1: We met Secilla, who lived in a country holding back
Speaker 1: an empire and they were losing badly and she sacrificed
Speaker 1: her own happiness to go be with king and she's
Speaker 1: not happy about it. And that's where she's at right now.
Speaker 1: And I'm reading this story because I think it inspires
Speaker 1: a ton of stuff that comes later. And I see
Speaker 1: almost no one talking about the story. I was like, Dear,
Speaker 1: the internet is Vend and his Brethren a big deal
Speaker 1: in literature, and everyone knows about it because it's William
Speaker 1: Morris and clearly is an inspiration for those who walked
Speaker 1: away from omelass and the internet was like, here's two
Speaker 1: paragraphs of one person talking about his vend and his brethren,
Speaker 1: So you talking about it with your friends is the
Speaker 1: first talking about it because we discovered it, much like
Speaker 1: I'm attempting to make some sort of vague reference to
Speaker 1: colonialism and how people pretend to discover things that clearly
Speaker 1: people have known about, Like William Morris is not a
Speaker 1: minor figure in literature. I'm sure other people have talked
Speaker 1: about it. I just couldn't find anything. But we're gonna
Speaker 1: talk about it a little bit after we finish reading it.
Speaker 1: But first we're going to finish reading it, and by we,
Speaker 1: I'm me, okay, this story kind of fast forwards. You'll
Speaker 1: probably notice that, Come, Harold, said a beautiful golden haired
Speaker 1: boy to one who is plainly his younger brother. Come
Speaker 1: let us leave Robert here by the forge to show
Speaker 1: our lady mother this beautiful thing. Sweet master armorer, farewell
Speaker 1: are you going to the queen? Then? Said the armorer yay,
Speaker 1: said the boy, looking wonderingly at the strong craftsman's eager face.
Speaker 1: But nay, let me look at you a while longer.
Speaker 1: You remind me so much of what I loved long
Speaker 1: ago in my own land. Stay awhile till your other
Speaker 1: brother goes with you. Well, I will stay and think
Speaker 1: of what you have been telling me. I do not
Speaker 1: feel as it I should ever think of anything else
Speaker 1: for long together, as long as I live. So he
Speaker 1: sat down again on an old battered anvil and seemed,
Speaker 1: with his bright eyes to be holding something in the
Speaker 1: land of dreams, A gallant dream, it was, he dreamed for.
Speaker 1: He saw himself, with his brothers and friends about him,
Speaker 1: seated on a throne, the justice king in all the earth,
Speaker 1: his people, the loviness of all people. He saw the
Speaker 1: ambassadors of the restored nation that had been unjustly dealt
Speaker 1: a long time ago, everywhere, love and peace, if possible,
Speaker 1: justice and truth at all events. Alas, he knew not
Speaker 1: that vengeance so long delayed must fall at last in
Speaker 1: his lifetime. He knew not that it takes longer to
Speaker 1: restore that whose growth has been through age and age
Speaker 1: than the few years of a lifetime. Yet was the
Speaker 1: reality good, if not as good as the dream? Presently,
Speaker 1: his twin brother Robert woke him from that dream, calling out, now, brothers, Vend,
Speaker 1: are we really ready see here? But stop kneel first there?
Speaker 1: Now I am the bishop. And he pulled his brother
Speaker 1: down on his knees and put on his head, where
Speaker 1: it fitted loosely enough. Now hanging down from left to right,
Speaker 1: an iron crown fantastically wrought, which he himself, having just
Speaker 1: finished it, had taken out of the water, cool and dripping.
Speaker 1: Robert and Harold laughed loud when they saw the crown
Speaker 1: hanging all askew, and the great drops rolling from it
Speaker 1: into Ven's eyes and down his cheeks, looking like tears.
Speaker 1: Not so, Svend. He rose, holding the crown level on
Speaker 1: his head, holding it back so that it pressed against
Speaker 1: his brow hard and first dashing the drops to left
Speaker 1: and right, caught his brother by the hand and said,
Speaker 1: may I keep it, Robert, I shall wear it someday. Yeay,
Speaker 1: said the other, But it is a poor thing. Better
Speaker 1: let shore put it in the furnace again and make
Speaker 1: it into sword hilts. Thereupon they began to go Zvend,
Speaker 1: holding the crown in his hand. But as they were going,
Speaker 1: Shore called out, yet, I will sell my dagger at
Speaker 1: a price, Prince Vend, even as you wished at first,
Speaker 1: rather than give it to you for nothing. Well for
Speaker 1: what said Svend, somewhat shortly, for he thought Sure was
Speaker 1: going back from his promise, which was ugly to him.
Speaker 1: Be not angry, Prince, said the armorer. Only I pray
Speaker 1: you to satisfy this whim of mine. It is the
Speaker 1: first favor I've asked of you. You will ask the
Speaker 1: fair noble lady, your mother from Shore the smith if
Speaker 1: she is happy. Now, willingly, sweet master Sure, if it
Speaker 1: pleases you, farewell, And with happy young faces they went away,
Speaker 1: And when they were gone, Sure, from a secret place,
Speaker 1: drew out various weapons and armor, and began to work
Speaker 1: at them. Having first drawn bolton bar of his workshop carefully, Svend,
Speaker 1: with Harold and Robert, his two brethren, went their ways
Speaker 1: to the Queen and found her sitting alone in a
Speaker 1: fair court of the palace, full of flowers, with a
Speaker 1: marble cloister round about it. And when she saw them coming,
Speaker 1: she rose up to meet them, her three fair sons.
Speaker 1: Truly as that right royal woman bent over them lovingly.
Speaker 1: There seemed to be little need of Shore's question, so
Speaker 1: Sven showed her his dagger, but not the crown, and
Speaker 1: she asked many questions concerning Sure the smith, about his
Speaker 1: way of talking, and his face, the color of his hair,
Speaker 1: even till the boys wondered. She questioned them so closely,
Speaker 1: with beaming eyes and glowing cheeks, so that Svend thought
Speaker 1: he had never before seen his mother look so beautiful.
Speaker 1: Then Sven said, and mother, don't be angry with Sure,
Speaker 1: will you, because he sent a message to you by
Speaker 1: me angry and straightway. Her soul was wandering where her
Speaker 1: body could not come, and for a moment or two
Speaker 1: she was living as before, with him close by her
Speaker 1: in the old mountain. Land. Well, mother, he wanted me
Speaker 1: to ask if you were happy? Now did he' s Vend?
Speaker 1: This man with brown hair grizzled as you say it
Speaker 1: is now? Is his hair soft? Then? This shore going
Speaker 1: down on to his shoulders and waves, and his eyes
Speaker 1: do they grow steadily as if lighted up from his heart?
Speaker 1: And how does he speak? Did you not tell me
Speaker 1: that his words led you whether you would or no?
Speaker 1: And to dreamland? Ah? Well, tell him I am happy
Speaker 1: but not so happy as we shall be as we were.
Speaker 1: And so you, son Robert, are getting to be quite
Speaker 1: a cunning smith. But do you think you will ever
Speaker 1: beat sure? Ah? Mother, No, he said, there is something
Speaker 1: with him that makes him seem quite infinitely beyond all
Speaker 1: other workmen I have ever heard of. And if you
Speaker 1: want to buy products from the finest work people in
Speaker 1: all the realm, I suggest the sponsor of this podcast
Speaker 1: medieval weaponry. No one's sad when they have a sword
Speaker 1: or a dagger, mace, morning star, flail, spear spears are
Speaker 1: quite lovely. We also probably have other ads. Let's find out,
Speaker 1: and we're back memory. Coming from that dreamland smoke upon
Speaker 1: her heart more than the others. She blushed like a
Speaker 1: young girl and said, hesitatingly, does he work with his
Speaker 1: left hand, son, Robert? For I have heard that some
Speaker 1: men do so. But in her heart she remembered how
Speaker 1: once long ago, in the old mountain country, in her
Speaker 1: father's house, someone had said that only men who were
Speaker 1: born so could do cunningly with their left hand. And
Speaker 1: how sure then quite a boy had said, well I
Speaker 1: will try, And how in a month or two he
Speaker 1: had come to her with an armlet of silver, very
Speaker 1: curiously wrought, which he had done with his own left hand.
Speaker 1: So Robert said, yea, mother, he works with his left
Speaker 1: hand almost as much as with his right. And sometimes
Speaker 1: I have seen him change the hammer suddenly from his
Speaker 1: right to his left, with a kind of half smile,
Speaker 1: as one who could say, can I not then? And
Speaker 1: this more when he does smith's work in metal than
Speaker 1: when he works in marble. And once I heard him say,
Speaker 1: when he did so, I wonder where my first left
Speaker 1: hand work is, ah, I abide my time. I wonder, also, mother,
Speaker 1: what he meant by that. She answered no word, but
Speaker 1: shook her arm free from its broad sleeve, and something
Speaker 1: glittered on it near her wrist, something wrought out of silver,
Speaker 1: set with quaint and uncouthly cut stones of little value.
Speaker 1: In the council chamber among the lords sat Vend with
Speaker 1: his six brethren, he chief of awe in wielding of
Speaker 1: sword or axe, in the government of people, in drawing
Speaker 1: the love of men and women to him, perfect in
Speaker 1: face and body, and wisdom and strength, was Vennd. Next
Speaker 1: to him sat Robert, cunning and working of marble or
Speaker 1: wood or brass, all things he could make to look
Speaker 1: as if they lived from the sweep of an angel's
Speaker 1: wing down to the slipping of a little field mouse
Speaker 1: from under the sheath in the harvest time. Then there
Speaker 1: was Harold, who knew concerning all the stars of heaven
Speaker 1: and flowers of earth. Richard, who drew men's hearts from
Speaker 1: their bodies with the words that swung to and fro
Speaker 1: in his glorious rhymes. William, to whom the air of
Speaker 1: heaven seemed a servant when the harpstrings quivered underneath his fingers.
Speaker 1: There were the two sailor brothers, who the year before,
Speaker 1: young though they were, had come back from a long
Speaker 1: perilous voyage with news of an island they had found
Speaker 1: long and long away to the west, larger than any
Speaker 1: that his people knew of, but very fair and good,
Speaker 1: though uninhabited. But now over all this noble brotherhood, with
Speaker 1: all its various gifts, hung one cloud of sorrow. Their mother,
Speaker 1: the peace Queen Cecilia, was dead, She who had taught
Speaker 1: them truth and nobleness so well. She was never to
Speaker 1: see the beginning of the end that they would work. Truly,
Speaker 1: it seemed sad. There sat the seven brothers in the
Speaker 1: council chamber, waiting for the king, speaking no word, only
Speaker 1: thinking drearily. Under the pavement of the great church, Cesllah
Speaker 1: lay and by the side of her tomb stood men,
Speaker 1: old men, both Valdemar the King, and sure so the King.
Speaker 1: After that he had gazed awhile on the carve and
Speaker 1: face of her he had loved so well, said at last,
Speaker 1: and now, sir carver, you must carve me also to
Speaker 1: lie there. And he pointed to the vacant spot by
Speaker 1: the side of the fair alabaster figure. Oh King said sure,
Speaker 1: except for a very few strokes on steel, I have
Speaker 1: done work. Now, having carved the queen there, I cannot
Speaker 1: do this thing for you. What was? It? Sent a
Speaker 1: sharp pang of bitterest suspicion through the very heart of
Speaker 1: the poor old man. He looked steadfastedly at him a
Speaker 1: moment or two, as if he would know all secrets.
Speaker 1: He could not. He had not the strength of life
Speaker 1: enough to get to the bottom of things. Doubt vanished
Speaker 1: soon from his heart and his face under Shore's pitying gaze,
Speaker 1: he said, then, perhaps I shall be my own statue.
Speaker 1: And there with all he sat down on the edge
Speaker 1: of the low marble tomb and laid his right arm
Speaker 1: across her breast. He fixed his eyes on the eastern
Speaker 1: belt of windows, and sat quite motionless and silent. And
Speaker 1: he never knew that she loved him, not but sure
Speaker 1: when he gazed at him, awhile stole away quietly as
Speaker 1: we do when we fear to wake a sleeper. And
Speaker 1: the king never turned his head, but still sat there,
Speaker 1: never moving, scarce breathing. It seemed Shore stood in his
Speaker 1: own great hall, for his house was large. He stood
Speaker 1: before the dais, saw a fair sight the work of
Speaker 1: his own hands. For fronting him against the wall were
Speaker 1: seven thrones, and behind them a cloth of samite of purple,
Speaker 1: wrought with golden stars, and barred across from right to
Speaker 1: left with long bars of silver and crimson, and edged
Speaker 1: below with melancholy fading green like a september sunset. And
Speaker 1: opposite each throne was a glitter suit of armor, wrought
Speaker 1: wonderfully in bright steel, except that on the breast of
Speaker 1: each suit was a face worked marvelously in enamel, the
Speaker 1: face of Cecilla, in a glory of golden hair, and
Speaker 1: the glory of that gold spread away from the breast
Speaker 1: on all sides and ran conningly along with the steel
Speaker 1: rings in such a way as it is hard even
Speaker 1: to imagine. Moreover, on the crest of each helm was
Speaker 1: wrought the phoenix, the never dying bird, the only creature
Speaker 1: that knows the sun. And by each suit lay a
Speaker 1: gleaming sword, terrible to look at, steel from pommel to point,
Speaker 1: but wrought along the blade in burnished gold that out flashed.
Speaker 1: The gleam of the steel was written in fantastic letters.
Speaker 1: The word westward and also gleaming steel are medieval weapons.
Speaker 1: Here they are the ads that are only for medieval weaponry.
Speaker 1: And were back so sure gazed till he heard footsteps coming.
Speaker 1: Then he turned to meet them. And Svend and his
Speaker 1: brethren sat silent in the council chamber. So they heard
Speaker 1: a great noise and clamor of the people arise through
Speaker 1: all the streets, and then they rose to see what
Speaker 1: it might be. Meanwhile, on the low marble tomb, under
Speaker 1: the dim sweeping vault, sat, or rather lay the King,
Speaker 1: for though his right arm still lay over her breast,
Speaker 1: his head had fallen forward and rested now on the
Speaker 1: shoulder of the marble queen. There he lay, with strange
Speaker 1: confusion of his scarlet gold wrought robes, silent, motionless and dead.
Speaker 1: The seven Brethren stood together on the marble terrace of
Speaker 1: the Royal Palace that was dotted about on the bluster
Speaker 1: of it with white statues. They were helmeted and armed
Speaker 1: to the teeth. Only over their armour, great black cloaks
Speaker 1: were thrown. Now the whole great terrace was a sway
Speaker 1: with the crowd of nobles and princes, and others that
Speaker 1: were neither nobles or princes, but true men only, And
Speaker 1: these were helmeted and wrapped in black cloaks, even as
Speaker 1: the princes were. Only the crests of the prince's helms
Speaker 1: were wrought wonderfully with that bird, the phoenix, all flaming
Speaker 1: with new power, dying because its old body was not
Speaker 1: strong enough for its newfound power. And those on that
Speaker 1: terrace who were unarmed had anxious faces, some fearful, some
Speaker 1: stormy with devil's rage at disappointment. But among the faces
Speaker 1: of those helmed ones, though here and there you might
Speaker 1: see a pale face, and there was no fear or rage,
Speaker 1: scarcely even anxiety, but calm, brave joy seemed to be
Speaker 1: on all above the heads of all men on that
Speaker 1: terrace shown out Zeven's brave face, the golden hair flowing
Speaker 1: out from his helmet, a smile of quiet confidence overflowing
Speaker 1: from his mighty heart, and the depths of which it
Speaker 1: was dwelling just showed very little on his eyes and lips,
Speaker 1: while all the vast square, and all the windows and
Speaker 1: roofs and even of houses over against the palace were alive,
Speaker 1: with an innumerable sea of trouble, raging faces showing white
Speaker 1: upturned under the undersea their many colored raiment. The murmur
Speaker 1: from them was like a sow of the first tempest
Speaker 1: wind among the pines, and the gleam of spears here
Speaker 1: and there was like the last gleams of the sun
Speaker 1: through the woods when the black thunderclouds come up over all,
Speaker 1: and soon to be shown through those woods by the
Speaker 1: gleam of deep lightning. Also sometimes the murmur would swell,
Speaker 1: and from the heart of it would come a fierce horse,
Speaker 1: tearing shattering roar, strangely discordant of war, war, Give us war,
Speaker 1: o King, thence then stepping forward, his arms hidden under
Speaker 1: his long cloak, as they hung down quietly, The smile
Speaker 1: on his face brought somewhat sent from his chest a
Speaker 1: mighty effortless voice. Over all the raging hear, o ye people,
Speaker 1: war with all that is ugly and base, peace with
Speaker 1: all that is fair and good, No war with my
Speaker 1: brother's people. Just then, one of those unhelmeted, creeping round
Speaker 1: about stealthily to the place where Sven stood, lifted his
Speaker 1: arm and smote at him with a dagger. Whereupon, Seven,
Speaker 1: clearing his right arm from his cloak with his left,
Speaker 1: lifted up his glittering right hand, and the trader fell
Speaker 1: to the earth, groaning with a broken jaw. First, Ven
Speaker 1: had smitten him on the mouth a backward blow with
Speaker 1: his open hand. One shouted from the crowd, I murderers, Ven,
Speaker 1: slay our good nobles, as you poisoned the king your father,
Speaker 1: that you and your false brethren might oppress us with
Speaker 1: the memory of that devil's witch your mother. The smile
Speaker 1: lifts Ven's face and heart. Now he looked very stern
Speaker 1: as he said, here, o ye people. In years past,
Speaker 1: when I was a boy, my dream of dreams was
Speaker 1: ever this, How should I make you good and because
Speaker 1: good happy when I should become king over you? But
Speaker 1: as year by year passed, I saw my dream flitting,
Speaker 1: the deep colors of it changed, faded, grew gray in
Speaker 1: the late light of coming manhood. Nevertheless, God be my
Speaker 1: witness that I have ever striven to make you just
Speaker 1: and true, hoping against hope continually, and I have ever
Speaker 1: determined to bear everything and stay with you, even though
Speaker 1: you should remain unjust in liars, for the sake of
Speaker 1: the few who really love me. But now, seeing that
Speaker 1: God has made you mad, and that his vengeance will
Speaker 1: speedily fall, take heed, how you cast out from you
Speaker 1: all that is good and true hearted? Once more, which
Speaker 1: choose you peace or war? Between the good and the base.
Speaker 1: In the midst of the passionate faces and changing colors
Speaker 1: stood the great Terrace, cold and calm and white, with
Speaker 1: its changeless statues. And for a while there was silence,
Speaker 1: broken through at last by a yell and a sharp
Speaker 1: whir of arrows, and the cling clang from the armor
Speaker 1: of the terrace. As Prince Harold staggered through, unhurt, struck
Speaker 1: by the broad point on the helmet, What war? Shouted
Speaker 1: vend wrathfully, and his voice sounded like a clap of
Speaker 1: thunder following the lightning flash when a tower is struck
Speaker 1: what war swords for vend round about the king, good
Speaker 1: men and true sons of the golden hair, show these
Speaker 1: men war. And as he spoke, he let his black
Speaker 1: cloak fall, and up from their sheaths sprang seven swords,
Speaker 1: steal from pommel to point. Only on the blades of them,
Speaker 1: in fantastic letters of gold, shone the word westward. Then
Speaker 1: all the terrace gleamed with steel, and admit the hurling
Speaker 1: of stones and whizz of arrows, they began to go westward.
Speaker 1: The streets ran with blood, the air was filled with
Speaker 1: groans and curses. The low waves nearest the granite pier
Speaker 1: were edged with blood because they first caught the drippings
Speaker 1: of the blood. And those on the pier who durst
Speaker 1: stay on the pier saw the ships of Sven's little
Speaker 1: fleet leaving, one by one, For he had taken aboard
Speaker 1: those ten ships whoever had prayed to go, even in
Speaker 1: the last moment, wounded or dying. Even better so, for
Speaker 1: in their last moments came thoughts of good things to
Speaker 1: many of them, and it was good to be among
Speaker 1: the true. But those haughty ones left behind, sullen and untamed,
Speaker 1: but with horrible, indefinable dread on them what was worse
Speaker 1: than death or mere pain, howsoever fierce. These saw all
Speaker 1: the ships go out of the harbor, merrily, with the
Speaker 1: swaying sail and dashing oar, and with joyous singing of
Speaker 1: those aboard. And Sven's was the last of all whom
Speaker 1: they saw kneel down on the deck unhelmed. Then all
Speaker 1: sheathed their swords that were about him, and the Prince
Speaker 1: Robert took from Sven's hand an iron crown fantastically wrought,
Speaker 1: and placed it on his head, and he knelt, and
Speaker 1: he continued kneeling still till as the ship drew further
Speaker 1: and further away from the harbor, all things aboard her
Speaker 1: became indistinct, and they never saw Spend and his brethren again.
Speaker 1: Here ends what William the Englishman wrote. But afterwards, in
Speaker 1: the night time he found the book of a certain
Speaker 1: chronicler which Saith in the springtime. In May the five
Speaker 1: hundred and fiftieth year from the death of Spend, of
Speaker 1: the wonderful King, the good knights, sailing due eastward, came
Speaker 1: to the harbor of a land they knew not wherein
Speaker 1: they saw many goodly ships, but of a strange fashion,
Speaker 1: like the ships of the ancients, and destitute of any mariners. Besides,
Speaker 1: they saw no beacons for the guidance of seamen, nor
Speaker 1: was there any sound of bells or singing, though the
Speaker 1: city was vast with many goodly towers and palaces. So
Speaker 1: when they landed they found that which is hardly to
Speaker 1: be believed, but which is nevertheless true. For about to
Speaker 1: the quays and about the streets lay many people dead
Speaker 1: or stood, but quite without motion, for they were all white,
Speaker 1: or about the color of new hewn freestone. Yet were
Speaker 1: they not statues, but real men, for they had, some
Speaker 1: of them ghastly wounds, which showed their entrails, and the
Speaker 1: structure of their flesh and veins and bones. Moreover, the
Speaker 1: streets were red and wet with blood, and the harbor
Speaker 1: waves were red with it, because it dipped in great
Speaker 1: drops slowly from the quays. Then, when the good knights
Speaker 1: saw this, they doubted not but that it was the
Speaker 1: fearful punishment on this people for sins of theirs. Thereupon
Speaker 1: they entered into a church of that gray city and
Speaker 1: prayed God to pardon them. Afterwards, going back to their ships,
Speaker 1: sailed away, marveling and I John who wrote this story,
Speaker 1: saw all this with mine own eyes, and that's the story.
Speaker 1: I like this story so much. I even like it
Speaker 1: better the second time I eat it, right, because there's
Speaker 1: a kind of lot going on that I didn't necessarily
Speaker 1: catch the first time. But it's so interesting to me, okay,
Speaker 1: for a lot of reasons. One, I can see the
Speaker 1: inspiration on Tolkien really clearly in this right, because you
Speaker 1: have this kind of like good noble king thing going on,
Speaker 1: but you also have like an evil king, or like
Speaker 1: a king who thinks he's good but he actually sucks,
Speaker 1: like the first king, you know. And and he's like, oh,
Speaker 1: I love my wife, and she's like, I'm not into you.
Speaker 1: I wish I was still dating that fucking smith, you know.
Speaker 1: And it's so tragic when he's like, I'm gonna just
Speaker 1: lay down and die here upon the statue of my
Speaker 1: dead wife, and she's like, I don't even like you.
Speaker 1: You know, I married you as like I gave up
Speaker 1: my life to marry you in order to keep my
Speaker 1: people like free and happy, and you know, and you
Speaker 1: still have got these like okay, and then the seven
Speaker 1: Brothers are like all good and true, and that's like
Speaker 1: very fucking like English like whatever, you know. But what
Speaker 1: was so interesting then is this Like but then the
Speaker 1: nobles who are all gathered up round are like, no,
Speaker 1: we want war. We just want to like fuck each
Speaker 1: other up, right, That's just like, man, can't wait, just
Speaker 1: fuck each other up, you know. And so they're like,
Speaker 1: all right, well we're gonna get out of here, like
Speaker 1: we're good and noble and true, and so we're just
Speaker 1: gonna leave. And they're going to basically Iceland. Right. It's
Speaker 1: like always a little sketchy when people are like westward right,
Speaker 1: you know, when they're English, because well, I'm recording this
Speaker 1: from a colony that is the result of that, you know.
Speaker 1: But I'm almost certain that they're talking about Iceland because
Speaker 1: they referred to it as an island they referred to
Speaker 1: as uninhabited. And also like specifically, I know William Morris
Speaker 1: was like into Iceland, and you've got this whole like
Speaker 1: kind of Vikingish vibe. Right, They're all like names vend
Speaker 1: and shore and stuff, you know. So I think they
Speaker 1: all like basically fuck off the Iceland. And then they
Speaker 1: come back and then violence has trapped them into this
Speaker 1: perfect stillness, you know, that's like ever changing, and their
Speaker 1: wounds are always there and the blood keeps dripping forever.
Speaker 1: It's so cool. Thank you all for listening to this story.
Speaker 1: If you want to hear me read stories. If you
Speaker 1: want to hear me read stories, you can do so
Speaker 1: by continuing to listen to this podcast, or I read
Speaker 1: about history on my podcast Cool People Did Cool stuff,
Speaker 1: or you can come and see me talk because I'm
Speaker 1: on tour right now, unless it's the future, in which maybe,
Speaker 1: but as you listen to this, I might be in Portland, Maine,
Speaker 1: or in Rockland, somewhere rural Maine, I don't know. Look
Speaker 1: up box car Books. That's where I'm going to be
Speaker 1: the day this comes out. But I'm on tour. I
Speaker 1: am reading stories. I'm reading folk tales set in the
Speaker 1: world of the Sapling Cage, which is my new novel
Speaker 1: that you might like. I hope you like it. I
Speaker 1: also hope that you're doing well and that you don't
Speaker 1: like take like like like I'm not like, oh, this
Speaker 1: story has like all the right morals or whatever, like
Speaker 1: now fuck that right, But instead it's just it's just
Speaker 1: interesting and like, am I wrong? Is this not the
Speaker 1: precursor to those who walk away from ome loss because
Speaker 1: you're describing this like perfect beautiful city, but that has
Speaker 1: like a dark secret. And I really like you can
Speaker 1: tell that this man ended up like he's kind of
Speaker 1: also seen sometimes as like the first eco socialist. Right.
Speaker 1: He loves nature and he also loves craft stuff, right,
Speaker 1: and he's like, actually, crafts and nature like go hand
Speaker 1: in hand, and and it's shown in both of the
Speaker 1: stories I've read by him so far. But I love
Speaker 1: that they're describing and being like, oh, look at this
Speaker 1: beautiful thing where they're taming everything by way of using
Speaker 1: smartness to make lies and laying waste of valleys and
Speaker 1: everyone lives as surfs and it sucks, like it's so good.
Speaker 1: Like this guy he wasn't even like a socialist yet
Speaker 1: when he wrote this, but you can see where he's
Speaker 1: gonna end up. It's also interesting because he ended up
Speaker 1: an atheist, right, But this story is like totally God focused, right,
Speaker 1: But that's just like, I mean, it's the style at
Speaker 1: the time, and it's the way people were thinking about
Speaker 1: things and not context. Anyway, I already did my plugs
Speaker 1: and here I am talking about the story again, so
Speaker 1: I'll just be done and I'll talk to you next
Speaker 1: week by It Could Happen Here as a production of
Speaker 1: cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from cool Zone Media,
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Speaker 1: to podcasts. You can find sources for It Could Happen Here,
Speaker 1: updated monthly at coolzonemedia dot com slash sources. Thanks for listening.