Re: The Lady of Shalott

[Melusine]

EDIT: sigh....apparently the members of this board *do* like short stories...I wonder why hardly anyone has even bothered to read this one then
Poor Seb thinks you all hate it because I went through so much trouble freeing him from his shyness of posting his story in public, and when he finally let me post it, there are hardly any reactions...
I always liked to think that when people posted their stories here and everybody was gushing over them, it was because they really liked the writings, and not because they liked the author. Now I'm not so sure because I thought this was a good story, but no one knows Sebastian so it went unnoticed after countless bumps...
Could you do me a favour, all of you who normally read the other stories posted here? Just read this one as well, and give your opinion of it, even if it's bad: that's why I posted it in the first place, to hear what you think of it! I was really looking forward to constructive criticism....
Mel

original message:
Cloudy and Waluin, I think a few posts got lost where we talked about Tennyson's The Lady of Shalott, but anyway I managed to convince Seb to let me post the first chapter from his story ...YAY!!! Damn I worked hard for it so I hope you'll like it...now I'll get back to my striptease so he'll allow me to post the next chapters as well


Knight Moves

I
'I have so many personalities that my head aches when I start to think about them', the Lady of Shalott said, 'but my fate is always fixed'. Lancelot shrugged. They had been through this many times before, and the conversation tired him. But what else was there to do? Outside there was only blackness. He raised his glass and drank deeply. 'That’s easy for you to say', he replied, 'you’re always the centre of attention. Me, I’m the peripheral figure. The knight in shining armour. I wish people would use their imagination somewhat more frequently. It would be nice if someone would just give me some firmness, so I could at least resemble an actual person.' The Lady remained silent, adjusted her dress, and looked away. Being here was not always easy, because Lancelot was troublesome at times, but since they had little choice they might as well accept it and try to make something out of the indefinite period they were here.
If you would walk into this room at this very moment, they would not strike you as particularly odd. He, a darkly handsome man, dressed in browns and blues, sitting at a small table in a corner, quietly sipping his drink. She, standing next to the table talking to him, wearing a light-coloured dress, her dark long hair loose and flowing. It would be impossible to tell whether they were in some sort of relationship, or maybe just friendly towards each other. The room they occupied was fairly small, with two windows closed with shutters from the inside, and two doors leading away, one standing ajar. The walls were panelled with a dark and shiny wood, and several burning oil lamps hang from the ceiling. There was a small fireplace. Chairs and tables were scattered throughout the room, and two large cupboards were lined along one wall, both closed. Two chairs were more comfortable, made of green leather, soft and worn. There was little light. On a table next to Lancelot was a beautifully carved marble chessboard. The pieces were made of highly polished wood. They had played the game countless times, the Lady becoming quite an expert, but Lancelot’s playing remained poor. His game had a certain dogged purposefulness to it, which the Lady saw through quickly and responded to immediately, so she almost always won.
'Fancy another game?' she asked, eyeing the chessboard. She sat opposite to Lancelot and set out the pieces without waiting for a reply. They started playing. This game would not be any different from the previous ones they had played, but neither of the two was particularly bothered. After the long time they had been here and playing, continuity was something that they treasured. After a hesitant opening with careful moving around of the pieces, Lancelot, who had awaited his chance, initiated a relentless hunt for the Lady’s queen. Attempting to capture the piece, he had to sacrifice two rooks and a bishop, while the lady managed to keep her queen safe and build up a decent attack. The outcome was inevitable. The Lady decided not to keep Lancelot hanging in there any longer, and advanced her queen, checking the king and threatening the last remaining knight simultaneously. She required only one more move, and Lancelot was quite powerless. He moved a pawn, and the Lady made her fatal move. 'Checkmate' she said and smiled. Lancelot smiled back. He turned his attention away from the board, finished his drink, and put the glass on a small cabinet along the wall. He rose and stretched his limbs, and said: 'I might go down today'. She looked up, and replied, slightly surprised: 'That’s a long time since you’ve been down, why the sudden urge? Lost one game too many?' She winked at him. Lancelot looked at her, and speaking slowly he said: 'Ah no, it’s just that the room is starting to get on my nerves again. I’ve been thinking about going down for the past few days now, and possibly I’ve thought of a way to go even deeper. There’s a door that’s been closed from the first time on, but I am determined now to get it open. I have a strong feeling that there is something behind that door, perhaps leading away from here.' Lancelot looked at the Lady, and continued: 'Of course I’d come back for you first. We’re in this together. It’s a shame that you don’t want to accompany me. There’s so much to see there, so many rooms yet to be explored, so many winding staircases that lead to exciting and unexpected places.' Lancelot knew this had no effect, and saw the Lady’s attention drift away. He continued: 'As long as it isn’t another room turned into a broom closet, I’m happy. Whoever is directing the game downstairs, I still haven’t gotten the hang of it. But I’m determined to find a way out.' The Lady nodded. She never liked Lancelot going down, because he stayed away for such long times. Whereas time did not play a significant role in their room, the long stretches between a drink, some sleep, and the rearranging of some chairs seemed longer without him present. She always had her gallery of course, but she did not always feel like visiting it. Lancelot spoke again, a reassuring smile on his face: 'Take care. And don’t spend too much time in between those awful paintings of yours. I’ll bring you something nice.' He turned to the door standing slightly ajar, opened it and stepped through. He looked at her, and then closed the door behind him. She could hear the sound of his boots clanking on the wooden floor slowly fading away, and then the clicking of his heels on the stone of the spiral staircase.
The Lady waited until she could hear no more of him, then returned to the table and sat down. She picked up one of the chess pieces and unconsciously started to turn it round and round in her hands. Her mind was blank for a precious few moments. 'Good luck to you Lancelot', she thought, and put the piece back on the board. Then she took the white knight, and positioned him in the very middle of the chessboard, touching four squares at once. Around the piece she placed first all the black and white pawns, then flanked it with the bishops, rooks, and finally the two kings and queens. Then, she turned away from the board, walked over to one of the windows and opened the shutters. Outside was nothing but blackness. It could take many forms. Sometimes it was like an impenetrable mass of thick matter, obscuring all view and trying to enter the window to suck up the sparse light that came from within. Today, it seemed not very violent, and appeared light, weightless and airy. Though nothing could be seen out there, there was at least the impression that outside the room there was a vast emptiness, a nothingness that lasted for as far as you could see. The Lady was not sure which of them she preferred. She closed the shutters and reclined on one of the more comfortable seats. She would try to sleep a bit, and then perhaps visit her gallery. What else was there to do? Where else could she turn to?

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Melusine, High Queen of Fluffies, Archbabe of the OHF, the LH,
the HADB and the SPAE(Society for the
Prevention of Acronym Extinction) &
Official Entertainer Elf of the BG2 Bar

Your voice is ambrosia
Amy Brown Fantasy Art

[This message has been edited by Melusine (edited 07-21-2001).]

[Melusine]

Damn, I forgot.... anyone reading this, you'd have to read Tennyson's Lady Of Shalott poem first to understand it (or just be familiar with the legend)


Part I
On either side of the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the filed the road runs by
To many-towered Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow veil'd
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave lier hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott"


Part II

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,


And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott


And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hands before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the curly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to towered Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights,
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half sick of shadows" said
The Lady of Shalott.


Part III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.


The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mightly silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra." by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She looked down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.


Part IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.


And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Through the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turned to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely' face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."

Here is the link to the same poem:
http://landow.stg.brown.edu/victoria...yson/los1.html

I hope you like the first part of his story, I thought it was pretty good. I helped him a lot with editing, rewriting etc and gave him the chess playing idea...turned out good I thought


------------------
Melusine, High Queen of Fluffies, Archbabe of the OHF, the LH,
the HADB and the SPAE(Society for the
Prevention of Acronym Extinction) &
Official Entertainer Elf of the BG2 Bar

Your voice is ambrosia
Amy Brown Fantasy Art

[Wulfere]

It turned out very good. I do hope that the rest is forthcoming. Have you ever heard Loreena McKennitts "Lady of Shalott". She took the poem and set it to music and did a fine job of it too. Very poignant and lovely. It's on her CD
"The Visit" I have it ripped and encoded as an MP3.

------------------

The line between good and evil is a razor sharp thing. Be careful of misteps,
as you may find yourself spitted upon your own blade.

[Tancred]

Evidently a lot of Lancelot's paramours and would-be paramours liked Chess. Seems to be one of those recurring things in Arthurian myth... Hmm, I'm going to look into that. Fine story, btw, quite fine.

[Melusine]

It's only the first chapter, Tancred
I'll try and post more of it soon

------------------
Melusine, High Queen of Fluffies, Archbabe of the OHF, the LH,
the HADB and the SPAE(Society for the
Prevention of Acronym Extinction) &
Official Entertainer Elf of the BG2 Bar

Your voice is ambrosia
Amy Brown Fantasy Art

[Tancred]

Excellent, Mel... please give Sebastian a thumbsup and my owm personal clap on the back, if that means anything! 'Knight Moves'... heh.

Ah, Loreena McKennitt! I think I have 'The Mask and the Mirror' around here somewhere...

[Melusine]

Thanks, Tancred, will do
BTW I know the Loreena McKennitt song as well, quite nice

Here's chapter two:

II


The door Lancelot vanished through led to a short corridor, with a rough wooden floor and plaster on the walls. A creaking door on the other side opened to a staircase bending down. Only once, the Lady of Shalott had gone with Lancelot through the same door and come as far as the top step of the stairs, but a draft had suddenly chilled her, and she felt maybe it would be better if she stayed behind, sending Lancelot ahead on his own. This was so long ago that neither Lancelot nor the Lady had any clear recollection of it, nor had they any conception of how long exactly it had been. Lancelot, however, could often not contain his curiosity and ventured out on sometimes fairly long journeys, following the staircase down into the labyrinthine system of corridors, rooms, more staircases, and more doors, often leading to empty rooms, but every now and then a door opened to a room that contained something special; a bookcase, a kitchen reeking of unknown scents and spices, and only once, a room with a view. The Lady knew all about Lancelot’s ventures since he always related them in detail later. The view had by far excited him most. He had seen rolling grasslands, and a forest, and in between fields of barley and rye. The Lady imagined it must have been like what she occasionally saw in her paintings. Maybe it had been an extremely lifelike painting, and Lancelot had not noticed.
Similar to Lancelot, the Lady had a place of herself to wander into, which was at times her sole relief. The other door in the room led straight towards her personal abode. It was a hall of about fifteen meters long and three meters wide, with a rich red carpet on the floor and golden candelabras on the walls, the candles shedding a yellow light that glittered off the shining golden frames of the paintings covering the walls. Occasionally, there were new paintings in the hall, and the Lady decided to have a look. The burning candles had left a pleasant odour lingering in the air. She stopped before one of the first works, a small one depicting herself in a boat, wearing a flowing long white dress, and a strained expression of longing on her face. The surrounding countryside was nicely done and the broken stems of the water plants surrounding her boat looked convincing. Although the painter was obviously competent, she did not like this work. It was already so near to the end of the story. She moved on. A new work caught her attention, and she walked up the hall until she stood in front of it, frowning. It had a lustrous silver-coloured frame, and was quite large. The artist had got a lot of her bodily features right, only the hair and the nose were wrong, and she silently laughed at herself.
She recalled the conversation she had had with Lancelot just before the last game of chess. A discussion they had had countless times now, but it intrigued, and frustrated the Lady to such an extent that often it was the only thing on her mind. All of these ladies in this room had a story to tell, and supposedly she was each of them. But the fact was, she believed, that she was not all of these ladies, and that annoyed her. Whereas both Lancelot and the Lady of Shalott were not very sure about the nature and purpose of their room, and where it was situated, they knew for certain that they existed. Their bodies were firm and solid, warm and alive, and the same could not be said for the women in the paintings. For as long as both their memories reached back, they had occupied the room together and occasionally ventured out into their private domains, but nothing drastic had ever changed. Exactly what their relationship was to the paintings, and maybe more importantly, to the book that they once read, was unclear. Right now, however, the Lady wished for a bit of peace and forced her mind away from the ever-present question.
She turned her attention to the paintings again. Another of her likenesses was in a chair, weaving, while a mirror on her side showed a Lancelot approaching on a horse. It was not very clear from the picture whether the Lady was at the point of looking out of the window, or refraining from looking and continuing her work. ‘Lancelot’s done completely wrong again’, she thought. After a quick glance through the hall the Lady saw nothing new had appeared, and decided to have a look at her favourite. She moved to the far end, and halted before a triptych. The reason why the Lady preferred this painting above all others she had seen, was that the artist had drawn her features so completely wrong, that it was as if she was looking at a completely different woman altogether. Most of the other painters always managed to get some part of her right, but no one had managed to replicate her faultlessly. This one had utterly failed in his entire representation. The left part of the painting depicted a tower, looming high above a pleasant countryside, with a single window that looked down on a river flowing past at the tower’s foot. The middle part, which was twice as large as the two others, showed a woman of exquisite beauty, in front of a mirror. She wore a red dress this time, and smiled seductively to herself. The right part, again, featured the boat, but it was empty and still tied to a tree with an iron chain. Nothing was written on its prow. The Lady of Shalott sighed, and turned around, and having one last look around decided she should leave the hall. It had been enough, and she had found no single painting that would please Lancelot, or at least made an honest attempt at representing him as he actually was. She walked back, closed the door behind her and sat down on one of the green chairs again, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep a bit.




------------------
Melusine, High Queen of Fluffies, Archbabe of the OHF, the LH,
the HADB and the SPAE(Society for the
Prevention of Acronym Extinction) &
Official Entertainer Elf of the BG2 Bar

Your voice is ambrosia
Amy Brown Fantasy Art

[Cloudbringer]

Originally posted by Wulfere: It turned out very good. I do hope that the rest is forthcoming. Have you ever heard Loreena McKennitts "Lady of Shalott". She took the poem and set it to music and did a fine job of it too. Very poignant and lovely. It's on her CD "The Visit" I have it ripped and encoded as an MP3.

Yes, it's lovely! Oh and I liked both pieces you sent me, Wulfere! So send anything else, but I have lots of McKennit!

Cloudy

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Raindancer of the Laughing Hyenas Clan
Storm-Queen
StormCloud of the Black Knight: Heart Mind Soul Forever
"To sleep, perchance to dream..."

[Cloudbringer]

Melusine! Thanks, it was worth whatever you had to do to get it! LOL

Tell Seb, we'd like to see more!

Cloudy

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Raindancer of the Laughing Hyenas Clan
Storm-Queen
StormCloud of the Black Knight: Heart Mind Soul Forever
"To sleep, perchance to dream..."

[Tancred]

Damn good stuff. Keep it coming!