Storytellers

I miss the storytellers of old. Back then, stories were not set in stone. They had a structure, but were able to adapt themselves as the audience required. These days, the stories are fixed in order to cater to as many people as possible. In trying to satisfy everyone, they truly satisfy virtually no one.

The bards could spin a tale as and how the audience wanted. If they wanted to hear of a noble knight saving a princess, the bard could make it so. If the audience wanted the noble knight to fall while on his quest, it would be so. There was less impatience, with people willing to sit around hearing tales over a winter's fire instead of trying to get as much drama into a short stint as they could. Perhaps that lack of overtness in the tales was also stimulating enough to the imagination that it bred storytellers of its own.

I like the idea of the dreamtime, and how stories can come from the other planes and affect the realities elsewhere. In a way, the story is always real someplace, somewhere. No matter how absurd the story turned out to be, it was true. Of course, that bit of enchantment was probably lost as well. Apart from children, few audiences are willing to accept what would be widely regarded as illogical storytelling...