Wed Jun 22, 2011 at 02:00:00 AM EDT
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(8p~
- promoted by RiaD)
I told y'all about the books I bought in NYC. Now, I am reading one I found on the discount table: Marion Zimmer Bradley's Ravens of Avalon by Diana L. Paxson. First published in 2007, it is the only hc among the novels I purchased.
Here's where full disclosure comes in: I know Diana. Back in my publishing days, I published her (The White Raven, The Serpent's Tooth, and more).
She is a very accomplished writer (I'm prejudiced, yes, but by any standard she writes better than Bradley ever did, although they were good friends. Bradley got the credit for brilliance...Diana is the one who actually possesses it). |
| Youffraita :: Wed. Open: The veil between the worlds grows thin |
| So this morning I started reading Ravens of Avalon. It's a retelling of the story of Boadicea (spelled in the novel more simply, thank goddess), the great warrior-queen of Albion who led her armies against the Roman hordes.
It is, as is usual with any novel by Diana Paxson, very well-written. Highly recommended.
But that isn't what I want to talk about today.
You see, Diana herself is a pagan priestess. I have never attended a celebration with her, so I guess you could say I've never seen her actually in priestess mode...but, yes, she is.
So, while I'm only 100+ pages into this novel, I have noticed that she does a better description of what it is like to have a divine presence enter your being than anything I've ever seen.
Held by the spell, Boudica shook where she stood. Denied physical release, her rage exploded inward. In a moment it would break the barrier that protected her identity. But it was no longer simply an emotion -- she could feel it taking a shape, coalescing into a being that could laugh at the priestess's spell. I am fury... it whispered. I am power. Let me fly free!
snip
The priestess sat back, frowning. In the small part of her mind that remained her own, Boudica saw her arm lifting, and knew that in a moment she would strike the woman down. Now her own terror warred with that Other who had been born of her rage -- or had She always been there, waiting for the moment of stress that would break the barriers that kept Her locked within?
Boudica at this moment is possessed by the Morrigan, and war is coming.
Do these things happen in real life? I don't know. I am William James here, he of The Varieties of Religious Experience, whose wife was something of a mystic. But James himself never felt it.
I never felt it.
But Diana has. An excellent novel so far, and the most reveling of her personal religious experience that I've encountered yet. |