The enchanting painting above is by the Russian illustrator Yaroslava Kuznetsova. It comes from the new edition of Ellen Kushner's novel Thomas the Rhymer, which will soon be published, in Russian translation, by Arda. The book is based (as many of you will recognize) on a famous fairy ballad from the Scottish border country. Here's a link to the American edition, which won both the World Fantasy and Mythopoeic Awards -- and soundly deserved them. The prose is lyrical and exquisite; the story is sensual, magical, and deeply moving.
"I had to do 'Thomas,' " Ellen recalls, "because, like many other writers, I knew 'Thomas' was my story. He holds the mythic power of King Arthur in the hearts of poets: the artist who is literally seduced by his muse, comes closer to her than any human should to the source of his art, and is profoundly changed. He can never be at home in this world again, and yet he must continue to live in it. That's how every writer feels, I think. Many writer friends had talked about writing a 'Thomas' story someday; kind of like an actor playing King Lear: it's a Great Subject that probably should not be tackled in one's youth. I would never have had the nerve to do it if it hadn't been forced upon me by circumstance. I still feel a little humble about it. I don't think I've written the definitive 'Thomas' -- I've just written my 'Thomas,' the 'Thomas' who addressed issues that were upon me in those years. Twenty years from now, I might like to do him again."
Ellen is a folk singer as well as a writer; she knows the old material well and the book is rich with ballad themes. "The Trees Grow High" inspired the last third of the novel; the middle section, set in Faery, makes use of the ballad "The Famous Flower of Serving Men." "Famous Flower" is the story of a woman whose husband has been slain by thieves hired by her own mother. She dons men's clothes and joins the king's court, while the murdered man returns to earth as a dove, shedding blood-red tears through the forest.
Delia Sherman's excellent first novel, Through a Brazen Mirror, is also based on this evocative song. "I heard Martin Carthy's version of 'Famous Flower'," Delia says, "and it haunted me with questions. If a mother so hated her child, why not just kill her and be done? Perhaps there was more to it than simple hatred. The other train of thought the ballad started had to do with cross-dressing in a medieval culture. And the third could be stated as: In all these ballads with girls dressed as boys, the man falls in love with the boy, not the girl. What would happen if he weren't relieved to discover his beloved's true sex? In short, 'Famous Flower' gave me a beautiful, mysterious narrative framework upon which to hang all my favorite concerns: gender confusion, different kinds of love, the singlemindedness of the mad, foundlings and their origins."
I asked Delia if she had a theory about why certain writers found ballad material so compelling, returning to it again and again. "What I like best about ballads," she said, "is that they're plots with all the motivations left out. Why did Young Randall's stepmother want to poison him? Why choose eels? Why did Randall eat them (especially if they were green and yellow)? There's a novel there, or at least a short story. Ballads give you classical human situations, and also some decidedly unclassical ones, exploring relationships between lovers, parents and children, between friends, masters and servants. Many of them deal with power and powerlessness, which is one of the central themes of fairy tales too, but it seems to me that ballads are more pragmatic, more realistic, in their denouements. Not every villain gets his/her just desserts. I can imagine a ballad variant of 'Beauty and the Beast' in which Beauty comes too late, and sings a plaintive last verse over the Beast's body, about how she will sew him a shroud of the linen fine and sit barefoot in the dark all her days, for the love of him who she loved too late."
Other fine novels based on ballads include Pamela Dean's Tam Lin, Alan Garner's Red Shift, Janet McNaughton's An Earthly Knight, Diana Wynne Jones' Fire and Hemlock, Elizabeth Marie Pope's The Perilous Gard, Patricia McKillip's Winter Rose, Dahlov Ipcar's A Dark Horn Blowing, Greer Gilman's Moonwise, Sharyn McCrumb's The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter, and Paul Brandon's The Wild Reel, among others, as well as numerous short story renditions. And if you're a ballad fan, don't miss Charles Vess' terrific The Book of Ballads, with graphic art by Charles and stories by the likes of Charles de Lint, Neil Gaiman, Jane Yolen, Emma Bull, and many others. Midori's in there, with an unusual take on "Barbara Allen," and I wrote the book's Introduction. The Book of Ballads is not only a lovely collection for fans of traditional folk material, but I also recommend it as a volume with which to introduce younger readers to this wonderful subject. For the songs themselves, you'll find good music recommendations posted regularly on the Greenman Review.
The art above is by Yaroslava Kuznetsova ("Thomas the Rhymer"), Thomas Canty ("Thomas the Rhymer"), Charles Vess ("Thomas the Rhymer"), Warwick Goble ("Beauty and the Beast"), and Charles Vess once again.