For what is it that we reach? I fear that our answer is something like, "not this", which is to say that we are aware of the problems but not the solutions. We feel viscerally that things are awry, but we are so deprived of history and culture that we cannot visualize a working society in which we should wish to live.
It is strangely comforting to read your essay. While it encapsulates the absolute emptiness of the times in which we find ourselves (which is actually quite devastating), it also articulates an awareness of truth. (And knowing there are others who recognize truth and can express that truth is reassuring).
How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened.
But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow.
Even darkness must pass.
A new day will come.
And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.
Those were the stories that stayed with you.
That meant something.
Even if you were too small to understand why.
But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand.
I know now.
Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t.
Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?
Sam : That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for."
...and from the original book:
THE STEPS OF CIRITH UNGOL (LORD OF THE RINGS)
‘I don’t like anything here at all,’ said Frodo, ‘step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid.’
‘Yes, that’s so,’ said Sam. ‘And we shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know, because they’d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same – like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren’t always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we’ve fallen into?’
‘No, sir, of course not. Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours.
‘It’s saying a lot too much,’ said Frodo, and he laughed, a long clear laugh from his heart. Such a sound had not been heard in those places since Sauron came to Middle-earth. To Sam suddenly it seemed as if all the stones were listening and the tall rocks leaning over them. But Frodo did not heed them; he laughed again. ‘Why, Sam,’ he said, ‘to hear you somehow makes me as merry as if the story was already written. But you’ve left out one of the chief characters: Samwise the stouthearted. “I want to hear more about Sam, dad. Why didn’t they put in more of his talk, dad? That’s what I like, it makes me laugh. And Frodo wouldn’t have got far without Sam, would he, dad?”’
‘Now, Mr. Frodo,’ said Sam, ‘you shouldn’t make fun. I was serious.’
‘So was I,’ said Frodo, ‘and so I am. We’re going on a bit too fast. You and I, Sam, are still stuck in the worst places of the story, and it is all too likely that some will say at this point: “Shut the book now, dad; we don’t want to read any more.”’
Through the effort of Walking by the Spirit and not after the flesh we will achieve these dreams. It takes effort and action. Even more than our forefathers and mothers we can yet again create in administration of the one who first created. Very inspirational Sarah. We must never despair.
Beautifully written, Sarah. I fear however the worst. Modern man has no soul. He has gone out of his way to destroy the sacred and beautiful. Nothing built now will ever equal the mystic beauty of public buildings and temples of ancient Greece Rone, the great cathedrals of Europe, or the cities on the plain. Its gone.
This is the age of Satan. We sell our children to physicians and pharma to mutilate them and turn them into sexual perverts. We raise children to hate God as indeed does all Western Governments and Satan Laughs. There is no greatness or sacredness in our world anymore. If there is...it is just another place to stick an advertising billboard for Pedo Disney. It's gone Sarah. Just gone.
The historic buildings in Europe were constructed in the days of very cheap labor. Even good craftsmen were not paid well. And of course there was some slave labor too.
It is strangely comforting to read your essay. While it encapsulates the absolute emptiness of the times in which we find ourselves (which is actually quite devastating), it also articulates an awareness of truth. (And knowing there are others who recognize truth and can express that truth is reassuring).
What you have said is the reason why most of us like Period Films.
For me it's the quality of the scripts & acting.
Another accurate, timely, and inspiring essay. Thank you.
"I know! It’s all wrong!
By rights we shouldn’t even be here.
But we are.
It’s like in the great stories Mr. Frodo.
The ones that really mattered.
Full of darkness and danger they were,
and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end.
Because how could the end be happy.
How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened.
But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow.
Even darkness must pass.
A new day will come.
And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer.
Those were the stories that stayed with you.
That meant something.
Even if you were too small to understand why.
But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand.
I know now.
Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t.
Because they were holding on to something.
Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?
Sam : That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for."
...and from the original book:
THE STEPS OF CIRITH UNGOL (LORD OF THE RINGS)
‘I don’t like anything here at all,’ said Frodo, ‘step or stone, breath or bone. Earth, air and water all seem accursed. But so our path is laid.’
‘Yes, that’s so,’ said Sam. ‘And we shouldn’t be here at all, if we’d known more about it before we started. But I suppose it’s often that way. The brave things in the old tales and songs, Mr. Frodo: adventures, as I used to call them. I used to think that they were things the wonderful folk of the stories went out and looked for, because they wanted them, because they were exciting and life was a bit dull, a kind of a sport, as you might say. But that’s not the way of it with the tales that really mattered, or the ones that stay in the mind. Folk seem to have been just landed in them, usually – their paths were laid that way, as you put it. But I expect they had lots of chances, like us, of turning back, only they didn’t. And if they had, we shouldn’t know, because they’d have been forgotten. We hear about those as just went on – and not all to a good end, mind you; at least not to what folk inside a story and not outside it call a good end. You know, coming home, and finding things all right, though not quite the same – like old Mr. Bilbo. But those aren’t always the best tales to hear, though they may be the best tales to get landed in! I wonder what sort of a tale we’ve fallen into?’
‘No, sir, of course not. Beren now, he never thought he was going to get that Silmaril from the Iron Crown in Thangorodrim, and yet he did, and that was a worse place and a blacker danger than ours.
‘It’s saying a lot too much,’ said Frodo, and he laughed, a long clear laugh from his heart. Such a sound had not been heard in those places since Sauron came to Middle-earth. To Sam suddenly it seemed as if all the stones were listening and the tall rocks leaning over them. But Frodo did not heed them; he laughed again. ‘Why, Sam,’ he said, ‘to hear you somehow makes me as merry as if the story was already written. But you’ve left out one of the chief characters: Samwise the stouthearted. “I want to hear more about Sam, dad. Why didn’t they put in more of his talk, dad? That’s what I like, it makes me laugh. And Frodo wouldn’t have got far without Sam, would he, dad?”’
‘Now, Mr. Frodo,’ said Sam, ‘you shouldn’t make fun. I was serious.’
‘So was I,’ said Frodo, ‘and so I am. We’re going on a bit too fast. You and I, Sam, are still stuck in the worst places of the story, and it is all too likely that some will say at this point: “Shut the book now, dad; we don’t want to read any more.”’
Through the effort of Walking by the Spirit and not after the flesh we will achieve these dreams. It takes effort and action. Even more than our forefathers and mothers we can yet again create in administration of the one who first created. Very inspirational Sarah. We must never despair.
Beautifully written, Sarah. I fear however the worst. Modern man has no soul. He has gone out of his way to destroy the sacred and beautiful. Nothing built now will ever equal the mystic beauty of public buildings and temples of ancient Greece Rone, the great cathedrals of Europe, or the cities on the plain. Its gone.
This is the age of Satan. We sell our children to physicians and pharma to mutilate them and turn them into sexual perverts. We raise children to hate God as indeed does all Western Governments and Satan Laughs. There is no greatness or sacredness in our world anymore. If there is...it is just another place to stick an advertising billboard for Pedo Disney. It's gone Sarah. Just gone.
The historic buildings in Europe were constructed in the days of very cheap labor. Even good craftsmen were not paid well. And of course there was some slave labor too.
And there's maintenance, $1700. an HOUR for the National Cathedral in D.C. (where my uncle, killed in WWII
has a brick in the wall). https://cathedral.org/visit-tour/plan-your-visit/