Stories that Shaped my Life

J.R.R. Tolkien  (Hobbit/ Lord of the Rings)

I believe in stories.  I believe in the power of a story to influence you forever, and I think when we are growing up we encounter such a story-be it by book, told, movie, TV, art, song- that informs our life and the way we develop.  Even our values.  My friend Melissa was formed by the Star Wars Trilogy and books, Grendel's story was the Harry Potter series (he grew up with it- keeping pace with Harry's age and development), and I'm not sure what other peoples stories are- but we have them, and if we don't, we spend our whole lives searching for them.

I am from a family of readers- we all read, all the time.  Everything, more or less- and as a child I was no exception.  I read early and well, and loved to- many trips to the library wherever we were, books carefully acquired and hoarded, read and re-read over and over.  As a child I loved all of them, though I *hated* the stage in school when we were required to read all the dead-animal-learn-to-experience-loss stories. (My Friend Flicka, Where the Red Fern Grows, Sounder, Old Yellar, The Red Pony.) They were good stories, and did their job, but until this day I will not read or watch a show where an animal is hurt or dies.  I get upset, inside, and choose not to walk that path.  I don't have a problem with death itself (quite good with it actually), or people in peril in stories, but I cannot stand when the animals get hurt.  That is also why I quit watching the Triple Crown- I would have meltdowns when the horses collapsed, and be heartbroken for days.  Silly perhaps, but that is the sore spot on my soul.

But I digress- because I want to talk about *my* story and how it was given to me.  I'm not sure exactly how old I was, somewhere in the tweens (10-13) I'm guessing, but we lived on Luzerne Ext. in the house with the trap door and pine trees. (I dream about that house quite a bit, odd).  Anyway, my Aunt Gladys was visiting from wherever she lived then (Vermont? New Hampshire? Massachusetts?)- she was someone I always liked, pretty and talented and full of ideas. She made wonderful apricot almond jam.  She loved old things, and to write, and animals- she had five kids all of whom I was terrified of at the time because they were everything I felt I wasn't- sporty (very), smart (very), adventurous, loud, talkative, wealthy, 'cool'.  They grew up in Canada, all spoke two languages, had horses, did gymnastics, lived on big farms, suffered from major disasters (fires, finance) and bounced back.  They went to schools like Phillips Academy and ended up at places like Brown, Harvard, Oxford, Princeton. They traveled the world, married internationally, remained glamorous (my eldest cousin Nina is still one of the most beautiful people I know- I don't know what the others look like right now, but Nina is gorgeous.)

This trip it was Aunt Gladys by herself (I don't remember Uncle Dan being there all the time...) and she brought me a present.  Funny thing about presents, you can get a million of them or none at all, but sometimes someone gives you one for no particular reason and it turns out to be incredibly important.  And this was- she gave me my story- the boxed set of the Hobbit/The Lord of the Rings.  It took me a while to read it- I was dubious and deeply involved with Nancy Drew Mysteries, but then I tried it and fell into it.  I read it again and again- binging on it like everything I love- probably averaging about four times a year all throughout highschool.... then I tapered down to once a year...and now, every once and again.  I memorized all of the poems and passages, read everything written about the story (which taught me to read criticism- the story was not as popular then as today, so most things written about it were literary or academic analysis), wanted desperately to become the story.  For me this didn't take the aspect of pretending to be the characters or acting out the adventures, instead it took the aspect of wanting to learn the skills needed to survive in the story.  Herbalism and wood lore, how to defend myself with a sword, tracking, map reading, singing, poetry etc.  I had a good basics in some of them (I had already been taught quite a bit about plants and animals by my parents, and had a solid foundation in poetry and map-reading).  I failed miserably at singing/music, but it inspired me to try at least to play an instrument and attempt to sing.  I took up fencing lessons, and while not an athlete, I could hold my own well enough.  I still know how to identify tracks and can do fair well at following/figuring things out....but what the stories really did was to shape values.

What values?  Adventure.  Faithfulness.  Determination.  Magic.  Belief in synchronicity.  Breakfast as very important.  Distrust of group dynamics, value of independence.  Tricksterism.  Unreasonable love of mushrooms. 

I've seen all the movies, and wait eagerly for the Hobbit to come out- the movies did the best job of it, the cartoon versions are not my cuppa tea,  because these are not really books for children- they are for everyone.  You won't find sex in them, only an abstracted kind of courtly love.  You will find strong women characters as well as the men, though the women are presented as avatars of wisdom and courage.  You will find lovely words and descriptions that take you into the story, that pull you into another land, a land that lingers in my forevers.