Interview With Robin Hood

 Robin Hood

 

This week's interview is with that famous outlaw, Robin Hood. It's hard to get Robin away from his merry men, and even harder to pry him away from Maid Marian, but we managed it. We'll see if we can shed some light on this legendary figure.

 

Greg:  Welcome, Robin, it's great to have you in from the cold for a minute.

Robin:  Thank you, good sir. It is an honor to speak with such an august personage as yourself. 

Greg:  You flatter me, sir. I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about your youth.

Robin:  It was so long ago that I can scarce remember it. I was born in the early 12h century...hold. No, it may have been later, perhaps the 13h century. Ah well, 'tis no matter, all water under the bridge. In any event, I was born and grew up strong and true in England's green and pleasant hills. It was there I learned the archer's art, and sword craft. 

I practiced uncounted hours, until as an archer I was without peer throughout the length and breadth of England. As a swordsman, I was scarcely far behind. In fact, I daresay that among all the swordsmen of the realm, there were only two or three that could best me.

Greg:  How did you become an outlaw? 

Robin:  Ah, now there we come to the crux of the matter, one that shaped my destiny, if you will. There are scores of theories circulating throughout the shire, nay, throughout the country, but I shall shed the light of truth on the matter.

I was a stout yeoman, not noble born, but I considered myself as good as any man alive. When good King Richard left England for the Crusades, his brother Prince John robbed the poor in taxes to pay for his gluttonous ways...hold again. Perhaps it was good King Edward that I served. Ah well, as before it is of little moment. The point is that I robbed from the rich and gave to the poor. Yes, that is what history shall remember.

Greg;  Right, right, why should details get in the way? It was all a long, long time ago. Which begs the next question. Are you a historical figure, or a fictional character?

Robin: Well asked, my good fellow! What is history? What is fiction? Answer those two questions, my lad, and you'll find that the answer to the question of my origin lies somewhere in between. I am neither wholly real, nor wholly fictitious.

While I have come to symbolize all that is good and noble in human nature, I as a person of mere flesh and blood could not hope to live up to the expectations that history has placed upon me. Therefore, is it not unreasonable to assume that a certain amount of fictional embellishment may have occurred over the course of centuries?

However, at the core, I am the man of which the legends sing. Many of the deeds which are credited to me, I actually did perform.

Greg:  Tell me about your merry men. Who was your favorite?

Robin:  Another excellent question, my lord. My merry men are a joy to me. A stouter band of ruffians and yeomen I could never hope to find! Over the course of the centuries, history and legend have given them their personalities, making them, too, larger than life. Who could forget heroes with names like Will Scarlet, Little John, Much the Miller's Son, and of course Friar Tuck.

The good friar is the one I'd want most with me in the heat of battle. No hardier warrior have I known. And none so quick to celebrate a victory with a joint of mutton and a jug of ale. There is also the added benefit that, when stuck in a tight spot, he could administer Last Rites and send you clean of conscience to your Maker if need be.

Greg:  I think people would like to know what happened to you after you were pardoned?

Robin:  Ah well, I do believe the phrase is "lived happily ever after". The good king, Richard...or Edward depending on which version of my life you prefer, granted me lands and the hand of the lovely Maid Marian. I, brash boy that I am, took all of the fair damsel and lived to a ripe old age.

Although I left the world's stage at that point, legend was not through with me. My deeds grew and grew until even I could scarce recognize my little life from the thing of sheer magnificence that it now is. It truly is an amazing thing.

Greg: Yes, well thank you so much for taking some time out from your legendary schedule.

Robin: It was a time which I shall always hold dear. You are without equal as an inquisitor, and I doff my cap to you, sir! Ta, ta for now!

A Writer's Week #148: Forward Progress

Well last week was pretty eventful. One icy winter morning I slipped crossing the street and banged my head, receiving my first ever concussion. I've got to say it was pretty scary. I'm pretty much back to my old self now, so that's good. I've never been quite in my right mind anyway.

Anyhow, I spent about four days not moving around very much. The good thing was it gave me some time to do a little writing on the second book in the Dragon Island Legends series. I wrote about 2,200 words, so the word total is now at 3,400. I still have not come up with a title for it though.

Shadra, the 16 year old girl from the western Jongchin steppes, is rounding into form. I'm getting a good feel for who she is, although I think she will evolve as the story progesses. She has just experienced a tragedy, but now has a purpose.

I'm not quite sure what her journey will look like, but I do know where I want her to wind up. Will she arrive there when all is said and done? Maybe. She is headstrong and independent, so she might have other ideas. I'll wait and see. Sometimes characters take over and do something unexpected, and usually it's magic. I'm looking forward to seeing how things develop.

I'll let you know how things go.

Peace

Interview With Long John Silver

                                               Long John Silver

This week's interview is with one of my all-time favorite villains, Long John Silver from Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island. Long John is an interesting study for a bad guy, because throughout Treasure Island we see more of the nice Long John than we do of the evil Long John. Oh sure, he shows flashes of brutality, but most of that is only hinted at. For me, this makes him much more interesting.

Okay, enough with the character analysis. On with the interview!

Greg:   Welcome, Long John. Thanks for coming ashore.

Long John Silver:  Aye, you’re welcome, matey. I don’t often come ashore; ground’s too firm beneath m’ foot. Not enough give. ‘Sides it reminds me too much of m’ time on that cursed island lookin’ for Flint’s treasure.

Greg:  Were you always a seafaring man?

LJS:  Aye, almost since I can remember. I run away from home as a lad and stowed away aboard His Majesty’s frigate Unrepentant. It were there I came into His Majesty’s service. I served under a number o’ fine naval gentlemen, squire.

I started off as cabin boy, then midshipman, an’ finally seaman. It were a good enough existence, I suppose, but it wore on me to have to take orders from them as claimed to be m’ betters but weren’t.

Greg:  How did you lose your leg?

LJS:  I lost it in service to Baron Hawke, one o’ the toughest sailors to ever trim a sail. None better at it, ‘ceptin’ maybe Captain Flint, but it’d be a close call there.

We were fightin’ pirates, strangely enough. Cannonball took it clean off. Guess I should of gone below decks and steered clear in m’ berth, but that aint ol’ Long John’s way. General quarters was soundin’ anyhow, so I was stuck an’ had to meet m’ fate, so to speak.

After I lost m’ leg, I weren’t fit for the service of His Majesty, so I had to shove off. We were in the Indies. I couldn’t even work my passage home. Well, says I to m’self, what other sea work can a mostly able-bodied sailor get in these here waters?

That’s when fate smiled on me, squire. I met up with an ol’ shipmate I used to know what had jumped ship and turned pirate some time back. He got me to sign on with Cap’n Flint.

Greg:  What was your role on Captain Flint’s ship?

LJS: Now Flint were hard, but I were never scared of him. Ol’ Long John had put in too many years and seen too many things on the high seas that would make a lesser-hearted man’s blood run cold. I weren’t afraid of his rantin’ an’ he knew it.

Before any time at all had passed, he had made me quartermaster, second in command only to him. So, I knew all about Flint’s treasure and the map. Flint gave the map to Billy Bones, his mate, an’ died of the effects o’ rum. Bad business, that. Rum also done for Billy. I never touched it, an’ I’m still here, so that should speak for somethin’.

Greg:  Describe your relationship with Jim Hawkins.

LJS:  I aint sure what he thinks o’ me, but young Master ‘Arkins is foursquare, he is. Reminds me more’n a bit o’ m’self he does. There’s no truer lad, nor braver. ‘Course ol’ Long John didn’t get away with all the treasure, but it all worked out for the best in the end, I’d have to say. It’s good enough I got away with m’ skin and some gold to boot, enough to retire by in the colonies.

Greg:  What do you like most about the sea?

LJS:  The freedom of it. Give me a sturdy craft an’ a star to sail her by, an’ I wouldn’t have to ask for much more, squire. I’d be right capped with that. ‘Course, a nice pile o’ gold would warm the cockles of m’ heart, too, heh, heh!

Greg:  How do you want literary history to remember you? 

LJS:  I don’t rightly reckon that it would. But if anyone did happen t’ trouble to think o’ ol’ Long John, I’d want ‘em to say “Long John were a stout sailor an’ true shipmate. He’d twist a dagger in your gut if ya crossed him, but he were as good as gold to those as stood by him.”

Aye, that’s how I’d like to be remembered. It’s how anyone’d want it—wouldn’t you, squire?