| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Myths and Myth-Makers by John Fiske: sits upon one's bosom and hinders respiration; but as we
compare these various legends relating to the Mara, we see
that a more recondite explanation is needed to account for all
her peculiarities. Indigestion may interfere with our
breathing, but it does not make beautiful women crawl through
keyholes, nor does it bring wives from the spirit-world. The
Mara belongs to an ancient family, and in passing from the
regions of monkish superstition to those of pure mythology we
find that, like her kinsman the werewolf, she had once seen
better days. Christianity made a demon of the Mara, and
adopted the theory that Satan employed these seductive
Myths and Myth-Makers |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Secrets of the Princesse de Cadignan by Honore de Balzac: glorious government of one man only, which, as I think, is
particularly suited to our nation, Michel's system would lead to the
suppression of war in this old world, and its reconstruction on bases
other than those of conquest, which formerly feudalized it. From this
point of view the republicans came nearest to his idea. That is why he
lent them his arm in July, and was killed at Saint-Merri. Though
completely apart in opinion, he and I were closely bound together as
friends."
"That is noble praise for both natures," said Madame de Cadignan,
timidly.
"During the last four years of his life," continued Daniel, "he made
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens: height and zenith of his distress. 'Did you hear me a calling,
villain?'
The figure he addressed made no answer, but putting his hand upon
the saddle, sprung into it at a bound, turned the horse's head
towards the stable, and was gone in an instant.
'Brisk enough when he is awake,' said the guest.
'Brisk enough, sir!' replied John, looking at the place where the
horse had been, as if not yet understanding quite, what had become
of him. 'He melts, I think. He goes like a drop of froth. You
look at him, and there he is. You look at him again, and--there he
isn't.'
Barnaby Rudge |
