I was not inclined to share my rendition of The Big Green Frog story (see previous blog) with Carti and Tanaquil. I felt it was poorly written and juvenile. But Julia, forge ahead Julia, gave me no choice. "It's not that I'll abandon you if you don't," she said we all drained the wine from our glasses at the same time. "It's that I shall never leave you. Night and day I'll be at the edges of your consciousness, hour after hour, with never any respite." She held out her arms, lowered her head and hugged herself. "So share," she said in what I can only surmise was her 'seduce whomever was listening' voice.
I shared. I shared the story I considered juvenile at best, hackneyed at worst. For some time no one responded. No shrugs, no laughter, no head shaking-- nothing. "See," I said, "it's the pits."
"And what in Hades does "it's the pits" mean?" Julia's voice had an edge I prefer not to describe.
Tanaquil held out a hand, the hand of a Queen seeking silence and attention. "Jewellee is right". After an uncomfortable silence she continued, "and she's wrong. She's wrong in that it's bad. I daresay much worse is published everyday. But she's right when she says we don't need reports of frogs, big ones, green ones, small ones or brown ones. We need to report on real people, people like her, like Carti and Julia, like me. Like anyone who has felt the sting of unwarranted prejudice.
"I remember so well two times I had to cope with irrational, unjustified and painful prejudice. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Tarquinius and I --" She paused, closed her eyes, and shook her head. What has been labeled the illusive inscrutable smile appeared. Finally she said, "Tarquinius was not always Tarquinius. He took that name when we came from Tarquinia to Rome. But that is a story of its own. More of that later. After we settled in Rome which was nothing-- pardon me Julia-- nothing more than a mud hut village. We worked hard to fit in, to serve our new country. And we had glorious success, mostly because of Tarquinius' talent and wealth, and some would say his ruthless ambition. If he was ruthless, it was Rome who profited most. He became King Ancus' closest adviser and the legal guardian of the King's children in case the king died.
"I felt fully accepted when I was befriended by Ancus' wife, Amata. But I was soon to discover I was not as accepted as I thought."
"Ye Gods, Tanaquil," Julia said. "If you have a story that speaks to the Big Green Frog idea, get on with it, or as my father, Augustus, always said, 'As quick as boiIed asparagus' I'm out of here. All of us came after you and we do know the sequence of events."
"I knew," Tanaquil said, ignoring Julia's rants, "I had been accepted when I was invited to participate in the Mater Matuta celebration."
Julia interrupted, "Spare us the vivid description of the celebration. Suffice it to say it was a day of abandonment and unabashed freedom."
Tanaquil's inscrutable smile reappeared as she stared Julia down. "The abandonment, as you call it, was offset by what followed the feast of too much food and too much wine. Tongues loosened by too much wine flapped. And I overheard the cream of Roman female aristocracy in serious conversation. 'Poor Ancus', Amata said to Collina, wife of the elder and priggish Claudius. Don't ask me to explain Claudius just now.'
Julia scowled and Tanaquil smiled. "Amata continued, 'You know how Ancus is. He gets an idea in his head and Jupiter himself could not dislodge it. He's decided his time is nearly up. To hear him tell it he has one foot in the Styx already and will cross it any day now.'
"I watched as Collina leaned in toward the Queen. I inched myself forward to hear. 'You do know, don't you, that everybody-- well nearly everybody -- knows he's made a will naming the Tarquinian guardian of the boys?' Then Collina lowered her voice to a near whisper. 'Most people hope Ancus will leave long for your Tatius to be old enough to succeed him. But if he doesn't, I can't imagine what havoc will be wrought. A Tarquinian. Can you just imagine?'
"I strained to hear. 'I've heard that', Amata said, 'but I choose not to pay attention to idle gossip.' Collina snorted. 'I should pay attention if I were you. The feeling is more than just idle thinking. It's worrisome to a lot of people. You know there are those who think Lucius Tarquinius does all the things he does for the city for one reason and one reason only. He has an eye on the kingship.'
"Collina did not notice me to her back. She continued, 'or buying the kingship is more like it. An Etruscan. Can you imagine the nerve. Take my word for it- we need to stop this alien.' She snorted again. "An Etruscan! How low can we sink?'
"So Ladies ," Tanaquil said, "we don't need frogs of any sort to show the presence of narrow minded prejudice. We just share what we know first hand."
Monday, March 26, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Lesson in bad writing
I have always known that of all my imaginary ladies, Julia was the Force to be dealt with. Her father, though the Emperor of Rome, could not easily restrain her. Certainly I could not. It was I who had first summoned her, but she had decided she could now summon me.
With no warning she was there-- at the top of my consciousness. "You have it your power to finally after years too many to recount to promote the cause of women," she said as she stood before me.
"And what in Hades do you suggest I do?" As much as I love her, and I do, I had no time this day to indulge her presence. It was not that I was so busy, but I was at a low point. Her need for company took a back seat to my preoccupations. Which were --- which I leave behind now. For they would be of little importance to her and of no importance to you who read this.
Julia was not to be dismissed easily. As clearly as I saw the maple tree outside my dining room window, I saw Julia, with her tightly braided hair, her stylish stola, beckoning to me. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply and said aloud, "You are not real. You are a figment of my imagination. You come at my invitation. And only at my invitation. Go. Go."
"Go? I do not come and go at the command of anyone, except maybe my father. But," she shrugged, "who says no the Emperor?" She fell silent.
The harder I tried to will her away the more persistent she was. Finally I said, "You would have me do exactly what?"
"Speak for me, for Tanaquil and Cartimandua. For all women. Even Ismene-- and it irks me no end to say that for I find her not to my liking."
My patience, already stretched thin, neared the snapping point. "And say what, and to whom,am I going to tell things, may I ask?"
Julia laughed as only she could, loudly, lustily and lengthily. Then she smiled demurely, as she no doubt did when her father chastized her. "Share our last little encounter with our fantasies. Surely you remember-- or I should think you did for you sat writing frantically as the rest of us did the really hard work. Tell you what, Jewellee, I will bug off and keep my distance if you edit that story so we can share it with the world. Deal?"
To get her out of my head I agfreed. "Deal."
So I share.
We set about -- Julia, Carti, Tanaquil and I to construct a tale about "What It's Like Being a Woman", a tale devoid of time restraints, a tale that would appeal to all people of all times in all places. Or so we told ourselves. And that turned out to be not as easy as it sounds. In fact I am not at all sure it is worth publishing-- at least not just yet. But I said I would. This is our story.
The pond was not large as ponds go. The frogs who inhabited it were not different from frogs in other ponds. Some were big; others were small. Some were green; others were brown or gray. When and where the notion that big green frogs were superior to all other frogs, no frog knew. No frog ever asked. It had always been so in this pond and it would ever be so. That was the way things were.
Big green frogs were the biggest, no doubt about that. But they were not necessarily the loudest or the most voracious insect eaters. Nor were they all the highest jumpers. Granted because of their size most could jump higher than many brown frogs, although there were some big brown frogs who jumped higher. And more food was needed for the bigger bodies, although there were small brown frogs who seemed to consume more. Without question a large soundbox emitted a louder sound. But there were small frogs, brown frogs whose performances matched those of big green frogs. That was the status.
It was important to big green frogs to maintain their superiority-- not just the really superior ones, but all big green ones. Now big green frogs were no more evil the other frogs they consider their inferiors. They did not plot or connive to maintain their dominance. They did not have to. They were superior. It had always been so; it would always be so.
I began to laugh. My low point seemed to have passed. Did we really write this? I know many people who believe such products done by committee are mere trash. No wonder. This was done by our little committee and it was trash. I would write no more until I talked with them.
Then there was Julia, pushing to the forefront of my mind. She was not happy. "So you think it's drivel?"
"Not exactly drivel, perhaps, but bad."
"Nearly drivel then? Trash I believe you are thinking."
"Julia, I know where we were trying to go with this. I remember how long we mulled over it before starting the exact writing. But I ask you--? Wouldn't we do much better to write your account of the evening when your depression at being separated from your children led you to get drunk. Remember sharing this, remember what you said. It was a party of young people your age. The women huddled together, talking about husbands and children. You unable to deal with your longing for your children, which your father had moved into his house, wandered from the women to the men, whose company you preferred under any circumstance, but especially this night. It was not long before you had had more wine than you needed. You spilled it down the front of you and over your new silk stola. Napkins offered to wipe it off you waved away. "I'm quite all right," you said, or that is what you reported to us. "Lucky for me Tiberius isn't here. He already thinks I am a drunken wench. He seems not to notice how fond he is of drink. But that doesn't matter. According to Tiberius men can do things women should never do. Things they should never think of doing. Now I ask you why are you men so insecure that you have to keep us in our place? Tiberius says I should stay in my place. Now I ask you what is my place? And just who decides what it is?"
Julia glared at me. She had no intention of answering me. "I know where we were trying to go with our frog story," I said, "but, Julia, I think we need to use more stories about us-- all of us. We all have stories to share, stories which could tell the world how ---. Surely someone will hear. But if we can't make that work we need to go back to the beginning-- try a new, a different way."
"And when? Have we no guts? God I wish I was born an Amazon. They knew. But Us? We seem to have waited since the beginning of time. If we wait until we have the perfect story, another thousand or two will have gone by and we're in the same place we have always been." She was gone. But I knew she would be back. I knew she would have Cartimandua and Tanaquil on her side.
(To read the rest of Julia's remarkable life check out e-book from Amazon Kindle THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER)
With no warning she was there-- at the top of my consciousness. "You have it your power to finally after years too many to recount to promote the cause of women," she said as she stood before me.
"And what in Hades do you suggest I do?" As much as I love her, and I do, I had no time this day to indulge her presence. It was not that I was so busy, but I was at a low point. Her need for company took a back seat to my preoccupations. Which were --- which I leave behind now. For they would be of little importance to her and of no importance to you who read this.
Julia was not to be dismissed easily. As clearly as I saw the maple tree outside my dining room window, I saw Julia, with her tightly braided hair, her stylish stola, beckoning to me. I closed my eyes, breathed deeply and said aloud, "You are not real. You are a figment of my imagination. You come at my invitation. And only at my invitation. Go. Go."
"Go? I do not come and go at the command of anyone, except maybe my father. But," she shrugged, "who says no the Emperor?" She fell silent.
The harder I tried to will her away the more persistent she was. Finally I said, "You would have me do exactly what?"
"Speak for me, for Tanaquil and Cartimandua. For all women. Even Ismene-- and it irks me no end to say that for I find her not to my liking."
My patience, already stretched thin, neared the snapping point. "And say what, and to whom,am I going to tell things, may I ask?"
Julia laughed as only she could, loudly, lustily and lengthily. Then she smiled demurely, as she no doubt did when her father chastized her. "Share our last little encounter with our fantasies. Surely you remember-- or I should think you did for you sat writing frantically as the rest of us did the really hard work. Tell you what, Jewellee, I will bug off and keep my distance if you edit that story so we can share it with the world. Deal?"
To get her out of my head I agfreed. "Deal."
So I share.
We set about -- Julia, Carti, Tanaquil and I to construct a tale about "What It's Like Being a Woman", a tale devoid of time restraints, a tale that would appeal to all people of all times in all places. Or so we told ourselves. And that turned out to be not as easy as it sounds. In fact I am not at all sure it is worth publishing-- at least not just yet. But I said I would. This is our story.
The pond was not large as ponds go. The frogs who inhabited it were not different from frogs in other ponds. Some were big; others were small. Some were green; others were brown or gray. When and where the notion that big green frogs were superior to all other frogs, no frog knew. No frog ever asked. It had always been so in this pond and it would ever be so. That was the way things were.
Big green frogs were the biggest, no doubt about that. But they were not necessarily the loudest or the most voracious insect eaters. Nor were they all the highest jumpers. Granted because of their size most could jump higher than many brown frogs, although there were some big brown frogs who jumped higher. And more food was needed for the bigger bodies, although there were small brown frogs who seemed to consume more. Without question a large soundbox emitted a louder sound. But there were small frogs, brown frogs whose performances matched those of big green frogs. That was the status.
It was important to big green frogs to maintain their superiority-- not just the really superior ones, but all big green ones. Now big green frogs were no more evil the other frogs they consider their inferiors. They did not plot or connive to maintain their dominance. They did not have to. They were superior. It had always been so; it would always be so.
I began to laugh. My low point seemed to have passed. Did we really write this? I know many people who believe such products done by committee are mere trash. No wonder. This was done by our little committee and it was trash. I would write no more until I talked with them.
Then there was Julia, pushing to the forefront of my mind. She was not happy. "So you think it's drivel?"
"Not exactly drivel, perhaps, but bad."
"Nearly drivel then? Trash I believe you are thinking."
"Julia, I know where we were trying to go with this. I remember how long we mulled over it before starting the exact writing. But I ask you--? Wouldn't we do much better to write your account of the evening when your depression at being separated from your children led you to get drunk. Remember sharing this, remember what you said. It was a party of young people your age. The women huddled together, talking about husbands and children. You unable to deal with your longing for your children, which your father had moved into his house, wandered from the women to the men, whose company you preferred under any circumstance, but especially this night. It was not long before you had had more wine than you needed. You spilled it down the front of you and over your new silk stola. Napkins offered to wipe it off you waved away. "I'm quite all right," you said, or that is what you reported to us. "Lucky for me Tiberius isn't here. He already thinks I am a drunken wench. He seems not to notice how fond he is of drink. But that doesn't matter. According to Tiberius men can do things women should never do. Things they should never think of doing. Now I ask you why are you men so insecure that you have to keep us in our place? Tiberius says I should stay in my place. Now I ask you what is my place? And just who decides what it is?"
Julia glared at me. She had no intention of answering me. "I know where we were trying to go with our frog story," I said, "but, Julia, I think we need to use more stories about us-- all of us. We all have stories to share, stories which could tell the world how ---. Surely someone will hear. But if we can't make that work we need to go back to the beginning-- try a new, a different way."
"And when? Have we no guts? God I wish I was born an Amazon. They knew. But Us? We seem to have waited since the beginning of time. If we wait until we have the perfect story, another thousand or two will have gone by and we're in the same place we have always been." She was gone. But I knew she would be back. I knew she would have Cartimandua and Tanaquil on her side.
(To read the rest of Julia's remarkable life check out e-book from Amazon Kindle THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER)
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