READING NOTES: FAERIE QUEEN (PART B)

Photo Credits: Pexels

Reading B:

The Enchanted Chamber
It seems like this guy is some sort of magician. I wonder what his purpose is. I could write about his magic tricks in the form of a poem. I could make this part a dream so that magic makes sense. I really like the idea of writing about reality and then having a dream put in there too. It reminds me of the Christmas movie where they all come out of her skirt.

 A Wicked Enchanter
This part is so dramatic. I think writing from the perspective of the woman who was his prisoner. I think I could make it very dramatic and have a lot of detail. It would interesting to tell the story of why the two left them behind. 

Strange Meetings
This also reminds me of Mulan a little bit because she pretends to be a man and ends up falling in love. I think it’s a weird thing that they fell in love but this story is different because she was in love and then sought him out by becoming a knight. Interesting that he would listen to what his enemies had to say and believe them so quickly. 

The Golden Girdle
I think it is interesting that women were allowed to fight and that they were not looked down upon for wanting to fight. I don’t think I like this part enough to write a story on it.

The False Florimell
I could write from the perspective of the girl who won the contest. I like how she didn’t know it was him and fought him. 

The House of Care
I like the descriptions that would go with the little cottage on the side of the hill with the blacksmith working hard by himself. 

Two Knights
I like this part. I could write from the perspective of Brit. It would be a very dramatic scene.

How Britomart Ended her Quest
I think this would be a cool part to write about. Seeing the person you love after trying to search for them for such a long time. Also realizing that you almost killed them would be intense.




Bibliography: Stories from the Faerie Queene by Mary Macleod

READING NOTES: FAERIE QUEEN (PART A)

Photo Credits: Pexels

Reading A:

Sir Guyon
I could write about how she felt when she looked into the mirror and saw this knight. Then it could go into detail of her readying for her journey. Interesting that fighting was not in malice but to test each other’s skills in combat. Almost like practice. It would be weird going after every knight you saw because you hated them all. 

How Britomart Fought with Six Knights
I could focus on the moments leading up to the attack in the woods. It would be very detailed about the forest they were walking into and the moment that something rushed by them in front of them. She reminds me of the knight Brianna in the TV show Game of Thrones. I could write about the knight being attacked from her perspective. I could write from the perspective of the woman riding the horse away from the guy who is trying to kill her.

The Magic Mirror
I could write about their little fight. I could write like a diary of how she reacted to the mirror. It could be a flashback of when she saw him in the mirror.

The Cave of the Magician Merlin
I could write in the perspective of the girl when she is having these nightmares and not able to enjoy anything that she used to love to do. She could be talking to her nurse. I like when she said it was foolish to love a shadow. I could write in the perspective of the nurse.

Britomart’s Quest
I could write of how sad her dad was when she left.

The Castle of the Churl Malbecco
I could write about when she took her armor off and showed all of the other knights that she was a woman and not a man. It is interesting that she is so beautiful but still looks enough like a man to pass. Also I wonder if she has a low voice or something.

How Britomart Walked through Fire
I could write in the perspective of the sad knight.




Bibliography: Stories from the Faerie Queene by Mary Macleod

STORY: A CHANCE ENCOUNTER

Photo Credits: Pexels

I walked down to the river to bathe before the sun had breached the horizon. The air was deathly still and held a chill that slipped through the cloak wrapped around my shoulders. I pulled it tighter around me. The slanted earth slipped slightly under my feet as I made my way closer to the edge of the river bank. The river was shielded by low hanging trees, their branches looked as if they were stretching to touch the peaceful flow of the river.

I kicked off my slippers and stirred the crystal clear water with my toes. I was pleased when it was warmer than I had expected. I let the cloak slip off my shoulders and draped it over a tree branch. I undressed down to my slip and wadded knee deep into the water. The stones were smooth on my bare feet. I bathed slowly, enjoying the sunrise and the sounds of the forest waking. 

When the sun peaked over the trees, I finally retreated to the shore and dressed. I walked slowly back to the castle in efforts to extend the peace of the morning. I stopped occasionally to pick a wildflower and weave it into my still-damp hair. The castle was surrounded by sleeping soldiers, tired from their travels and battles. When I passed through their camps, I was assaulted with the smell of unbathed men and horses—a stark contrast to the fresh scent of dew in the forest. I made my way through the hoards of groggy men, awoken by the bright morning sun and the bustle of early risers.

The smell of bread baking filled my nose as I passed the bakery. I breathed in deeply, relieved to be rid of the stench of the soldiers. My stomach growled and I placed a hand over it in a pointless effort to quiet the grumbling. I made my way to the kitchens. I was in no mood to deal with the scolding my father would give me for going down to the river.

“It is not suitable for a grown woman to bathe in the river. No daughter of mine will be so indecent to do so.” he would say, puffing out his chest. “You will bathe with the water your maids bring you like the rest of us.”

Most of the time I did as he said. Today was different. There were noble men and kings here and I was not going to smell like stale water and lye soap.

I swung the kitchen door open and reveled in the warmth that filled the room. Luckily, they hadn’t brought the food out to the dining hall yet. I was ravenous so I filled my plate with as much as I could and sat at the small table that the maids and stable hands eat at. I scarfed down every crumb. 

Thoroughly stuffed, I left the kitchen meaning to find my father now that my hair had dried. I turned the corner, unwinding a flower from my hair and knocked straight into a man I had never seen before. I stumbled backwards and he grasped my arm to steady me.

“Oh! Please excuse me.” I shook my head gently and blinked hard trying to make sure I wasn’t imagining the shockingly handsome man standing in front of me.

“The fault is mine, milady.” he said, staring passionately into my eyes.

When I looked down at my arm where he was still holding me, he let go and cleared his throat nervously.

“My name is Arthur and you are?” he asked politely.

“Guinevere!” My father’s voice boomed through the stone hallway. I grimaced, pulling the last flower from my hair as I turned to his voice.

“I see you have met King Arthur. Were your accommodations to your liking?” my father asked Arthur.

“Oh, yes. Although, it seems I am lost. Would either of you mind showing me to the dining hall?” he asked, glancing in my direction.

I opened my mouth to offer just as my father slapped Arthur on the back and said, “Why of course! I was headed that way myself.”

I stood there watching them make their way down the hall, Arthur turning his head to look back at me every few feet. I smiled softly back at him, reveling in the feeling of his longing gaze. When they turned the corner, I walked slowly back to my quarters feeling light as a feather.

Author’s Note:

I took what I read from this story and made what was only a sentence or two into a story of their meeting. I was confused as to where they met but after reading it over again I realized that it was in a castle. I started writing thinking that they were staying in campgrounds but it worked out to still work with the story when they were staying in a castle. In the original story, Arthur was fighting with Guinevere’s father and other kings who were their allies. After they won, they were celebrating and that was where the two saw each other for the first time. I was thinking about waiting until they were celebrating to have them see each other but I just had it happen before because I have no idea what princesses do in their spare time or how they get ready for parties. I think that helps make her seem like a normal person that people can better relate to. I hope you liked it!

Bibliography: King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902)

READING NOTES: KING ARTHUR: TALES OF THE ROUND TABLE (PART B)

Photo Credits: Flickr

Reading Notes:


The Adventure of Sir Galahad
I could write in the perspective of the squire who was with the knight who was injured. I could write in the perspective of the maidens from the castle or I could write in the perspective of the Duke’s daughter. I could make it sappy and have them fall in love. Thinking about my storybook, I could write about Guinevere.

How Sir Lancelot Saw a Vision
Weird that this super holy knight was able to see and be healed by the Holy Graal and then he stole from the knight who was laying there. I thought stealing was a sin?

The Adventure of Sir Percivale
I could write about how he befriended the lion.

Sir Lancelot and the 500 Knights
I feel bad for Sir Lancelot. I know I’ve heard the name before and you would think that it would be good things that he had done. He just couldn’t do anything right!

Sir Gawaine and the Hermit
I wish they could tell each other this so that they could stop trying to find it. Why do they need to find it anyway? It isn’t something that they need.

The Adventure of Sir Bors
I could write about how he almost killed his brother.

Sir Galahad and the Mysterious Ship
I wonder if she was truly a “gentlewoman” or if she was trying to tempt him. I could write the story in her perspective. I like that she was his brother. Interesting that they sent her off with a letter in her hand.

Sir Lancelot and Sir Galahad
I like the idea of all of these dreams. I could work that into my story.

How Sir Galahad Found the Graal
I wonder why they didn’t stay as knights to King Arthur.

The End of Arthur
I like the descriptions with this one. I think this part would be interesting to write a story about. I could write it from Guenevere’s perspective.



Bibliography:  King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902)

READING NOTES: KING ARTHUR: TALES OF THE ROUND TABLE (PART A)

Photo Credits: Pixabay 

Reading Notes (Part A):

The Drawing of the Sword
Okay … I had no idea the TV show Merlin was based off of these stories! My brother and I would watch them all the time and bonded over it. I’m not sure if I could come relatively close to topping that retelling of the story.

 The Questing Beast
I wonder if he has a sister named Morgana in this story. Interesting… In Merlin, Guenevere is a common girl and not a princess. I like how he changes from a man to a boy and back kind of like what he does in Merlin. That was always hilarious the way he talked as the old man. I don’t think I would want to know my death. It would freak me out.

The Sword Excalibur
I love the idea of healers. I would love to know the uses for different plants. I could write about the lady of the lake. I could write in the perspective of Guenevere. I really enjoyed their love story in the TV show so I could work off of that in some ways. Whenever someone says coronation I always think of the movie Frozen. I could write from the perspective of Tor.

The Passing of Merlin
I like the idea of Merlin falling in love with a damsel of the lake. If there is more about her or why she's evil I could write about her. 

How Morgan le Fay Tried to Kill King Arthur
I could write in the perspective of Morgan le Fay. Wow she is super evil and just as evil as the TV show.

The Quest of the Holy Graal
The King’s Pilgrimage
 I could write from the perspective of Gwain, the youth that accompanied King Arthur on his trip.

The Coming of the Holy Graal
I could write the story from the perspective of the king being so happy and then so sad about seeing the Holy Graal. 


Bibliography:  King Arthur: Tales of the Round Table by Andrew Lang and illustrated by H. J. Ford (1902)

STORY: MAN OF THE HOUSE

Photo Credits: Flickr

My husband was a man of honor. His presence demanded respect and his actions showed that he deserved it. When my father gave me to him for marriage, I was happy to be with such a man. My father was almost too old to hunt any longer. He married me to him so that we could all survive the winter months. When we needed meat, my husband ventured out into the woods to hunt. He would always, without fail, bring back more than we could eat in a week. He was skillful at what he did and enjoyed it very much. He was the greatest provider for me and my parents.

It was some time ago that he started to change. He would no longer bring home extra game for my poor parents. Many nights, they have gone hungry because of it. I tried to bring scraps and small pieces of meat too them when I could, but it was never enough. They were starving and would soon die. When I tried to tell my husband this, he would not listen to my reasoning. He discounts my logic because I am a woman.

“You think you know what it is like to hunt and to provide?” He would say, jabbing a finger in my face. “Ha! You are a silly woman without sense. These people have nothing, are nothing. They should die for their laziness and stupidity.” He lectured like this any time that I suggested giving scraps of meat to my starving parents. He would hear nothing of it.



***



I woke up suddenly, plagued by the same nightmare I have almost every night. In the dream, I walk into my parent’s lodge. Smoke hangs in the air like fog, blurring my vision. I walk a few paces, squinting to see. I trip suddenly and fall to the floor. I look back at what I tripped on to be frozen with fear. It was a body that I tripped on. Crawling on all fours, I inch closer to the hazy outline. As I get closer I realize, it isn’t just one body, but two. I cry out when I see that the bodies are those of my parents. Their bodies pale and lifeless on the cold ground. Their cheeks hollow from starvation. Hand in hand, they embraced death together.

Tears streamed down my cheeks from the empty feeling in my chest. I couldn’t help them. I couldn’t save them. My heart ached for the loss I knew was coming. 

Breathing deeply, I tried to relieve myself of some of the sadness. There was work to be done. My husband was gone hunting and would not be back for another night. I went out back to start tanning the cow skins my husband brought me before he left. I was lost in my work for what could have been minutes or hours, I could not tell. But when I looked up, there was a strange man staring at me, not twenty paces from where I sat.

“Who are you and why are you staring at me?” I said, loud enough for him to hear. He looked at me and slowly rose. He did not answer at first. He approached me with cation, as if not to startle me or scare me off.

When he was less than two steps away, he finally spoke. “I am a visitor. I have traveled a long way and I am tired.” Close as he was, I could tell by his eyes that he was not lying. He must have not slept in days. “If you would be so kind as to let me stay the night, I will be eternally in your debt.” He bowed his head in respect.

“Of course you may stay. My husband is gone hunting but will return tomorrow.” I said, knowing that I would be punished for letting a strange man stay the night. I had a feeling about this man. Maybe he could help me save my parents.

The time came and my husband arrived home with the meat from his hunt.

“Who are you? Why are you in my lodge?” My husband roared, his face bright red.

The visitor stood very fast and stared at my husband’s with a force you could almost feel.

“I am a visitor. Your wife was so gracious as to offer me a place to rest for the night. I have come very—“

“You think a woman has the authority to allow you to stay in my house?” He said, body vibrating in anger. He then turned to me and raised a hand to hit me.

“Touch her and I will kill you.” The stranger’s voice was calm and quiet. My husband lowered his hand an inch but did not let it fall completely.

“Ha! You will not tell me what I can or cannot do to my own wife!” He raised his hand again and brought it down hard on the side of my face. The sound rattled in my ears and my cheek stung as I fell to the floor from the blow. I blinked fast trying to clear my eyes of tears. I heard something cut through the air like butter and hit its target. My eyes cleared enough to see my husband fall to the ground, arrow through his heart. I knew at once that my husband was dead.

“I could not stand by while he laid hands on you. I was indebted to you, now even more so for I have killed your husband. I will protect you and provide for you and your family if you will let me.” He said with an air of solidity. His voice was soothing and his words even more so. I could not respond, I was sobbing from the relief that my parents would live and the grief from the death of the person my husband used to be. Instead I nodded and let him hold me as I cried.

 
Author's Note:

In the original story, there were three sisters who were married to the guy. Only one of them, the youngest, would bring their parents meat. The man used the dad to scare the buffalo so he could shoot it. Even though the dad would help hunt, he would not give the dad any meat. One day they find a baby and use magic so that it grew up into a man. He then kills the husband and continues on in other stories to kill other evil things. I changed it so that there was only one wife and the man who kills the husband is a stranger. I didn’t want to bring magic into the picture so that the story seemed more realistic. This story was hard to end but I had to end but I feel it gives the reader more choice over what comes next. I hope you enjoyed reading it!

Bibliography: Blackfeet Indian Stories by George Bird Grinnell (1915).

READING NOTES: BLACKFEET INDIAN STORIES (PART B)

Photo Credits: Wikipedia

Reading Notes Part B:

The Smart Woman Chief: Interesting how men and women started out apart and that women were made first. This guy was not very nice or smart. Obviously he only wanted her when she looked nice. I wonder why she chose a pine tree to turn him into.

Bobcat and Birch Tree: Birch trees always reminds me of camp. Sometimes the way these stories say animals came to look the way they do is pretty demented. Do they have an explanation for everything? Also it is strange that it is a man who makes things look a certain way and not a god or spirit.

The Red-Eyed Duck: I love how a lot of these stories has something about a song in them. The old man likes to trick animals who are being nice to them and then kill them to eat. He is not a very nice old man. I guess the coyote got him back though.

Kut-O-Yis, The Blood Boy: I’m glad my dad doesn’t see me as a means getting something for my marriage. I would smack him now. Also, sharing a toy with my sisters is one things…but hell no. I would not share my husband. I feel like Native Americans were always respectful and would help their elders. This is weird to me. Weird way to find a baby. I could write from the perspective of the youngest daughter.

Kut-O-Yis, The Blood Boy (cont.): What is up with these mean leaders who do not feed their people? This dude is like the liberator of hungry people.

Kut-O-Yis, The Blood Boy (cont.): So, a son-in-law, a bear and a snake. Why do people kill for them? This dude is just looking for trouble. He can’t just hang out and rest.

Kut-O-Yis, The Blood Boy (cont.): I wonder how the wind guy killed everyone. Maybe like a dementor.

Kut-O-Yis, The Blood Boy (end): “avoid her” that was funny. He is just an adrenaline junkie. I wonder if he killed the little girl who helped him live again.

 

Bibliography: Blackfeet Indian Stories by George Bird Grinnell (1915).