I just finished reading, “Possession,” by A.S. Byatt, which was fascinating on many levels. One of the elements that gave me some food for thought was the idea of winter story telling. Two of the main characters, in their efforts to piece together the relationship of two English Victorian poets, visit the French countryside where they read the journal of a young girl from the age. In her journal, the young girl talks about how, during the dark days of November, the people of the village traditionally gather together to tell haunted, romantic tales. Such was tradition handed down from the Druids. They called the month the Dark Month, which is oh so suitable for November.
Thinking on it, I wondered why the oral story telling tradition has all but vanished from the earth. Is it because publishing, in various forms, has grown increasingly more accessible? Is it because people have less time or live farther away from one another? Does it have to deal more with personal preferences for recreation — solitary before the boob tube as opposed to group congregation? Or does it have to do with the loss of cultural identity in melting pot societies that discourage preservation of heritage?
Moreover, why have certain collective art forms been allowed to thrive while oral story telling has dwindled? Is it because they were more adaptable to the progression of time? Singing in groups may now be found in choirs and karaoke parlors, for example, and dancing in groups may be found in gym aerobic classes and drum circles.
It’s interesting to think about these questions, be they answerable or not. Someday I would like to create a November story telling group of my own. What a lovely alternative to other Saturday night endeavors. One, two or three people could be responsible for a story each week, and one could make a sort of potluck event out of it.
One thing that was great about being hanging out with vegetarian bohemians in College was the sense of community. Everyone got together on Sunday nights for a potluck dinner, a drum circle and a poetry reading. Since then, my ideals have changed somewhat to encompass more of the world’s realities, but I miss the community, especially during the dark months. I encourage everyone who has such at their disposal to make the best of it through creative means rather than easy ones, and perhaps in doing so, we can preserve enough light to make it through the winter.
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