The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley marks a historic moment in the course of science fiction and fantasy, in that the story of King Arthur was told from the feminine perspective. Although a few writers preceded Bradley, her novel reached legendary success, and inspired a new generation of readers and writers of female-focused fantasy fiction. The book was also hallmark in its portrayal of pagan religions. Bradley shows the merging point when Christianity, through the reign of kings, begins to dominate the countryside of England. Much of the story deals in some way with keeping Arthur in the throne, since he respects both traditions. His death ultimately foreshadows the end of one cycle and the beginning of another.

A new book has come to the shire filled with all the wisdom one could want to live a Hobbit-like life. It's called, Wisdom of the Shire: A short Guide to a Long and Happy Life, by Noble Smith. At first glance it looks like another marketing ploy to get a piece of the Tolkien money-pie, but with a second glance, you can see Smith delve into the principles of a good life that Tolkien envisioned, that can ultimately be evoked today. 

For the Pagan audience, it's a treasure of ideas to continue cultivating a connected life with the natural world, for eating local foods, for gardening and sharing in community and honoring the seasons. 

In chapter one, "How Snug is Your Hobbit-Hole?" Smith explores the tight-knit community in the shire, pointing out how everything was made by hand. Smith asks, "When did we all become so helpless that we stopped learning how to make or fix the simplest things?" But change is right at our fingertips, whether through Upcycling, the trend of making useable goods out of waste products, or by making your home a little more Hobbit friendly. Ultimately, the wisdom of the shire teaches us that "your true home is inside your heart and stays with you wherever you go ..." 

We all think we know good and evil when it comes to stories. The good guy wins. The bad guy loses. But in Hans Christian Anderson’s Fairy Tales, it’s the opposite. In these fantastical stories, sometimes being the good guy isn’t the way to get ahead.

Let’s look a little closer.

In his science fiction novel, Out of the Silent Planet, C. S. Lewis takes readers to a new vista, a strange planet, not unlike Earth called Malacandra. The main character, Ransom, is taken prisoner and brought by two scientists to the planet, where they hope to use him as a sacrifice for the strange inhabitants, the sorns. Not long after arriving, Ransom escapes and begins to navigate the new terrain. He encounters both the sorns and the hross, and befriends one creature, Hyoi, and spends time with him learning their customs and ways. Later, Ransom travels through an ether type atmosphere to commune with a god-like spirit-presence called, Oyarsa, an eldil or ruler, who explains that Ransom’s own planet, Thulacandra, or the silent planet, is ruled by an evil warring people, abandoned by the eldil. Ransom goes through a few more obstacles in order to get back to Earth, and once returned, wants to share his story, one he doesn’t think anyone will believe.

C. S. Lewis, best known for his Narnia series, takes on spirituality and human actions in this thinly disguised sci-fi novel. It is said the novel was inspired by a conversation with J. R. R. Tolkien, about how unsatisfied they were with the state of fiction at the time. For this blog post, we’ll take a look at the pagan themes presented in Lewis' work, perhaps even hidden away in this gem.

One of the first take-aways for the pagan reader is the relationship Ransom has with the hross, a sort of human-animal creation, that lives in nature, and does not hurt or take more than it needs. At first, Ransom can’t understand the hross, but as he quiets his own thoughts and expectations, he slowly starts to communicate with them. It is similar to the way earth-based spiritualities honor the natural world. Whereas the mainstream might accept that trees, rocks, animals, and so forth can’t communicate, pagans do. It is when Ransom releases his fear that he is allowed to be part of the hross community and ultimately understand them.

For this installment of Well at World’s End, we’ll take a look at the Pagan themes in the novel, Star Wars, written by George Lucas, Donald Glut, and James Kahn. Many people have watched the movies, which have become fan-classics. If you haven’t read the book, you might enjoy the story on a more personal level. As you read, even though you have the visual image of the characters and location from the movie, your own imagination takes over to reconstruct something new. Before long, the world and characters become new inventions in your own mind. There are also nuances in the book that you won’t find or will miss in the movie. Here is a sample of the opening pages, which describes the planet, Tatooine.

“At first it seemed certain nothing could exist on such a planet, least of all humans. Yet both massive G1 and G2 stars orbited a common center with peculiar regularity, and Tatooine circled them far enough out to permit the development of a rather stable, if exquisitely hot, climate. Mostly this was a dry desert of a world, whose unusual starlike yellow glow was the result of double sunlight striking sodium-rich sands and flats. That same sunlight suddenly shone on the thin skin of a metallic shape falling crazily toward the atmosphere.”

In honor and celebration of the Winter Solstice and the conclusion of the Mayan calendar, I thought it would be fun to look at a Mayan adventure story with Pagan themes. Regardless of your take on the Winter Solstice, we can all agree that the event will not occur for another 26,000 years. This is history in the making! It connects us past and present. And to celebrate, why not pick up a good book! 



This month we’ll take a look at pagan elements in children’s fiction, beginning with the popular classic The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper. Part of what makes this book a treasure is the magical aspects that exist right alongside the contemporary world. Cooper uses pagan symbols, like the number seven, magical names, and a one-horned man to weave her tale. Let’s look closer at the origins of these ideas.

 The Dark is Rising is the third part of a fantasy series published in 1973, and was made into a motion picture in 2007 (The Seeker). Will Stanton is the seventh son of a seventh son, who comes into his magical abilities on his eleventh birthday. He learns he is the last of the Old Ones, and quests to reclaim six items that will ultimately help him fight the Dark. Overall it is a charming story that takes place in winter and through the Solstice holiday. 

Samhain is in the air, and with it a new year to celebrate life and read! For this installment of Well at World's End we'll take a look at the Pagan themes in Diana L. Paxson's novel, The White Raven, and specifically the depiction of ceremony filling the pages. It is the perfect book to begin the new cycle, as the story begins and ends on Samhain. To read along, you can visit: www.diana-paxson.com (If you're a Diana L. Paxson fan, you'll be happy to know I'm working with her on an in-depth interview, which is forthcoming in Witches & Pagans Magazine. So stay tuned!)  

The White Raven retells the story of the lovers, Tristan and Iseult, depicted in the book by their Celtic names, Drustan and Esseilte, who are later betrayed by the king. It is told through the eyes of Branwen, the White Raven, who is raised alongside Esseilte by the Queen of Eriu. Paxson's story is steeped in history and Celtic lore. Here we see the junction of the Old Ways and Christianity. Steeped with Pagan themes, it is the depiction of ceremony that makes this a treat. Let's look further. 

Beginning in chapter three, the Queen of Eriu takes Esseilte and Branwen to visit a sacred well. It is a site that has been important to the people long before Christianity, and as far back as anyone can remember. The well is surrounded by hazelwoods, and birdsong fills the sound. The queen explains to the girls, "Folk come here from all about this country to walk the pattern at the Feast of Brigid that begins in spring." Surrounding the well are fourteen flagstones, which the girls are instructed to kneel before and pray. The queen further explains to whom they pray, "She is the water and the well, the pattern and the prayer." They are told to drink the waters and make an offering, then they will understand.

For this installment of Well at World’s End, we’ll take a look at the pagan themes in J. R. R. Tolkien’s fiction. I could easily dedicate the entire blog to Tolkien, but have chosen one rather obscure piece to focus on, “Smith of Wootton Major.” If you would like to read the story first, and then read along, you can find the selection here.

 “Smith of Wootton Major” is a short story written by Tolkien in 1967. It was originally known as “The Great Cake,” since the story starts off with the festival, Feast of the Good Children, which is celebrated every twenty-four years, and attended by only twenty-four village children. Baked inside the cake are a variety of trinkets, and hoped to be won by the children. (Cake with trinkets, can you see where this is going?)

One special trinket, by accident, makes it in the cake and is later swallowed by the blacksmith’s son. The star allows the boy to enter into the land of the Faery. Most of the story recounts various adventures the boy takes into the realm of Faery; the reader eager to tag along.

This past summer, science fiction readers mourned the passing of Ray Bradbury, the author of such classic literature, as Fahrenheit 451 and Something Wicked this Way Comes. For this installment of Well at World’s End, we’re going to take a look at the pagan themes present in Bradbury’s short story collection, Sound of Thunder and Other Stories, and more specifically the title story.

“Sound of Thunder” tells the story of Eckels, a safari hunter living in 2055, who signs up with Time Safari Inc., a service that will take him to any destination in the past to hunt big game (now extinct). Eckles wants to go back to the dinosaur age to land a T-Rex. As preparations are made for departure, the team discusses the presidential election that’s underway, between a fascist candidate, Deutscher, and a more moderate one.

If you know your fantasy history, you’ll spot that the title of this blog comes form the very first fantasy book written by William Morris in 1896. For the first time, Morris deviated from writing “reality” and ventured into another realm, one inhabited by otherworld creatures, like giants and wise hermits, a place governed by the laws of magic.

In Well at World’s End, Morris takes the reader into a mythical region where a magical well grants the drinker immortality. He quests with helpers to find the well, facing danger at every step. The story sounds familiar, because we’ve seen similar ones over the ages, like Percival who quests for the Holy Grail, or Ponce de León’s journey for the Fountain of Youth.

But if we go a little deeper we will find that even this road leads right back to Pagan origins. Morris, like Tolkien years later, saw that magic once held an integral part of daily life, but had slowly faded from the countryside. His book, if nothing else, is a reminder of what was, and more so what could be.