A Medieval Obsession

Thoughts on the common love of castles, battles and knights

There are many different types of fantasies, but as great works such as George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones, Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time, and, most notably, Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings have taught us, the medieval style of storytelling is alive and kicking.

It kind of makes sense if you think about it. It was a much simpler time, allowing writers to add more complicated twists without having to explain too much complexity. It also lends toward a much more melodramatic style that engages all sorts of big emotions, but I think the main reason we gravitate towards it, is because it provides an escape from the world as we know it. Medieval culture is close enough to our own that we grasp it at a core level, but it is different enough that it doesn’t shock us in the reality like a WW2 movie can.

I remember watching a movie that had terrorism on a beach, and the next time I went to a beach, I’m not going to lie, I found myself a little frightened. It was too close to home. Meanwhile, I love to fantasize about a dragon coming down and letting me ride on its back, but I know deep down that will not be happening any time soon. Knights riding into battle on their trustworthy steeds against wizards and warlocks is close enough to be exciting but farfetched enough to provide a safety in its distance.

Maybe it is just the coolest setting to ever exist, but I think there is validity to the thoughts I have gathered here. Either way, I can tell you for a certainty that I will be visiting a medieval world within the week, maybe even two or three. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a little poem of mine that carries the feeling I most love from fantasy stories. I hope you enjoy it!

A Song of Swords

Feet dance freely cross a field of grass

 As small blades tap to the whim of the wrist

Emotions heavy

Sparks fly freely

Eyes dart quickly

And sweat glistens polished by the light of the sun.

As brothers glide gently with the sway of the winds

Their breaths become shallow and goals become sins

The sun sets settled

A sword reaches out

A parry meets cut

As men doubt

And in a blink

Eyes did miss

A fatal blow

Like a kiss

Delivered

By, the

Very

Tip.