Patrick of Ireland’s Morning Prayer

“Today I arise, through the baptism of Christ—His cross; and His grave; resurrection; ascension; and final descent, for the judgment of doom.

“Today I arise, while God’s angels serve…” (Read on)

Father Ailill on St. Patrick’s Day

Despite being always full of great good wishes for all the Irish on the feast day of their patron saint, I have too much integrity to stoop to the low trick of pretending to be Irish, when I’m obviously not.

So to keep the discussion at the high level of authenticity it deserves, I have instead asked for a guest column from a true Irishman beyond suspicion, Father Ailill, Erling Skjalgsson’s priest:

To all the elect within the range of this message, whether Irish or Norse, or even Scot or English, yea even unto the barbarians of distant lands, wherever you may be, scattered about the islands of the earth,

Greetings.

I, Father Ailill, have not been unaware of doings among men since my Elevation nearly a thousand years ago. I have paid some attention to the course of the world, and to the state of the Church, and I have but one word for all of you, small and great, learned and uncouth:

Stop it.

I mean it. This has gone beyond a joke.

Where does one start? The excesses of your generation would make scrap enough to fuel a thousand bonfires, but in view of the day I’ll just draw your attention to the way you mark—I’ll not say observe—the saint day of Patrick of Ireland.

Now I happen to know Patrick myself. He lived far before my corporeal time, of course, but since my Elevation we’ve become fairly chummy, and I’ll tell you, just between you and me and the hearthstone, it’s best not to raise the subject of St. Patrick’s Day in his presence. If it’s all a joke, you may as well know the guest of honor doesn’t get it. He said to me once, “If I’d known they’d honor my memory by getting drunk on green beer and puking all over policemen, I’d have gone to Frankia and become a hermit. I’m not kidding. St. Augustine never lets me forget about it. And I’ve taken to avoiding Boniface altogether, because he never sees me but he starts singing that ‘Frosted Lucky Charms’ jingle, and then gets to giggling.” Continue reading Father Ailill on St. Patrick’s Day

“A Culinary Journey Through Time”

Dave Lull directed me to this web page, advertising “the first ever cookbook based on archaeological finds.” If you want to eat like a cave man, or a Viking, this would appear to be the book for you.

Will I be purchasing a copy? I don’t think so. It would require me to actually, you know, cook stuff. Not that I can’t cook when I’m cornered, but one of the consolations of bachelorhood is that nobody really expects you to cook in a serious fashion.

The picture of a Viking house in the article is pretty good, but the floor puzzles me. It looks flat and clean. To the best of my knowledge, Vikings pretty much always had dirt floors, usually covered over with rushes, which would be taken out and replaced periodically.

Canute the Great and the Rise of Danish Imperialism During the Viking Age, by L. M. Larson

I downloaded this book because a) it promised to be useful in my ongoing research on northern Europe in the 11th Century, for my Erling books, and b) it was cheap for my Kindle. In general I’m pleased with my purchase. It proved even more helpful than I expected, though I have one complaint.

Canute the Great and the Rise of Danish Imperialism During the Viking Age, by Laurence Marcellus Larson, was first published 100 years ago, but it remains a readable, useful, and occasionally dramatic historical account. This was a great relief to me, since I’d read a more recent biography, Cnut: England’s Viking King by Lawson, and it had been a bow-ring read. I marveled at the time, considering that here we have the saga of a real man who lived a Conan the Barbarian life, rising from exiled prince and pirate to emperor (effectively) of England and much of Scandinavia. But Lawson’s book was a dry recitation of textual citations, concentrating on tallies of Danish and English names in old charters, in order to guess how far Canute (or Cnut) favored his fellow Danes in the English government. As I recall (it’s been a while) he barely touched on Canute’s adventures outside England, while Larson revels in the saga accounts of (Saint) Olaf Haraldsson’s establishment of an independent Norwegian kingdom, in the teeth of Canute’s power.

And this raises my main complaint about the book. Lawson is completely on Olaf’s side. For men like Erling Skjalgsson, who opposed Olaf’s high-handed policies, he has only scorn. They are traitors, bought with English silver, and their cause is essentially heathenry.

If you’ve read my books, or followed what I say about Erling in this blog, you’ll know that I dissent strongly from that opinion. Erling and his allies were defending republican government. Heathenry had almost nothing to do with it. If they took silver from Canute, well, that’s what carls did in those days. Olaf gave rich gifts to his men too.

But other than that, it’s a pretty good book, and even exhibits an enlightened (especially considering the date of publication) view of Viking culture. Recommended. (As is the case with so many e-books, there are some problems with typos due to OCR errors.)

Talent Is Shown by Doubt

Writer Eugene Cross talks about doubting his writing ability and that being a good sign. “As the amazing Richard Bausch puts it, doubt is an indicator that you have an ear for the way the work should sound and that you realize it’s not yet there.” (via Jane Friedman)

Speaking of Encyclopedias

The Encyclopaedia Britannica distinguishes itself from the more Internet-popular Wikipedia by challenging the latter’s knowledge-base and open-editing format. The kerfuffle (which is such a fun, old Scottish word) Soledad O’Brien got into last week illustrates this point precisely. CNN’s O’Brien argued with Joel Pollak of Breitbart.com that Critical Race Theory has nothing to do with white supremacy, apparently getting her information from a line or two in a Wikipedia article. Now, due to a series of edits and reverts on that article attempting to validate O’Brien’s misread, top Wikipedia editors have frozen the article.

I would tell you what the Britannica says about it, but can only find that Derrick Bell, “American legal scholar and educator who strove uncompromisingly to reveal and confront the pernicious racism that he found ingrained in American legal and social structures,” is known for developing the theory.

The Moonlit Mind, by Dean Koontz


Sanctuary can be found in that kind of church—whether Baptist or otherwise—in which, on Sundays, rollicking gospel songs are sung with gusto and booming piano. Churches in which Latin is sometimes spoken, candles are lit for the intention of the dead, incense is sometimes burned, and fonts of holy water stand at the entrances—those are also secure. Synagogues are good refuges too.

Here’s a nice little slice of pure Dean Koontz. The Moonlit Mind, a novella available cheap for your Kindle, has many elements that will be no surprise coming from Koontz—a precocious child on the run from an abusive situation (here occult ritual abuse), a dog possessing preternatural wisdom, and helpless innocence pitted against powerful evil.

The story is told in two narrative threads—the present, in which twelve-year-old Crispin lives in hiding in an unnamed city, his only friends his dog Harley (who finds him money to live on), and Amity, another person in hiding, a girl who lives inside a local department store.

The second thread is the back story, in which we slowly learn how Crispin, along with his younger brother and sister, was raised in great luxury in a mysterious mansion, and how his siblings disappeared one after the other, as Crispin gradually came to realize a horrible truth…

Good story. Excellent writing. Endearing (and horrifying) characters. Apparently The Moonlit Mind is a teaser for a longer book coming up, 77 Shadow Street, which will involve the same city.

Recommended for teens and older.

Do A Few Reviewers Have Too Much Influence?

To the Best of Our Knowledge, a show from Wisconsin Public Radio, had a great program last Sunday on the influence reviewers from New York and Los Angeles have on national readers. They ask, “Do you ever get the feeling that everyone’s reading all the same books and listening to all the same music, and seeing all the same films?” They talk to a few good people who have opinions on that, mostly Wisconsin people oddly enough.

Link sausage, March 12, 2012

It’s suddenly spring in Minnesota. Today was cloudy and drizzly, but it was up in the 60s, I think, and the only snow left on my property is a couple tiny icebergs in the northeast shadow of my house. They’re talking temperatures up to 70 later in the week.

I predict more snow, though. This is March. March is not to be trusted. Even April is best handled with one hand on your wallet.

Kevin Holstberry at Collected Miscellany reviews Troll Valley. Thanks, Kevin.

I received a beautiful (considering the subject matter) pencil drawing of me in Viking garb in the mail Saturday. It was from artist Emily Chesley, who’s the daughter of old friends. I’ll scan it to show you, eventually, but my scanner’s down at the moment.

Also on Saturday, I did some heavy-duty proofreading on Hailstone Mountain. This is, by the way, the longest book I’ve ever written, so it will be a while before you have the pleasure of downloading it.

On Sunday I went over to a Viking friend’s house, and helped him upgrade his fighting helmet with a reinforced nasal. Came out nice, too. Rather gratifying.