Retelling
A Scottish Ballad American Style
by Sally Keehn
Stories stalk me; they keep after
me year after year until I finally find the voice in which to tell them. Over
the past twenty or so years that I've been actively writing, these stories
have grown out of actual events on American soil, whether it was Pennsylvania
farm land, the Maryland coast, or Virginia's Shenandoah Valley. So I never
imagined I'd be stalked by a fantastical story, birthed hundreds of years
ago in ancient Scotland with its royal kings, queens, imposing castles and
enchanted woodlands.
It all began in 1995 with my decision
to attend a Children's Literature New England institute - "Writing the
World: Myth as Metaphor." Included on the reading list was Susan Cooper's
delightful picture book retelling of an old Scottish ballad - Tam Lin. In
it, the king's daughter, Margaret, takes on the Elfin Queen in order to save
Tam Lin, the boy Margaret loves, from being sacrificed to the Devil. Margaret
holds fast to Tam Lin as the Elfin Queen casts her fearful spells - transforming
him in Margaret's hands from a snarling wolf, to a writhing snake, to a tall
wild deer, to a red-hot bar of iron. At the end, when Tam Lin grows too hot
to handle, Margaret must throw what's left of him into a Holy Well and then,
as Susan Cooper so tantalizingly puts it, "You shall see what you shall
see."
This love story - the holding on,
the letting go - captivated me. I became further entranced when, in our CLNE
discussion group, Madeleine L'Engle, beloved author of the classic A Wrinkle
In Time, illuminated the Tam Lin myth as a metaphor for our lives by telling
us the story of a woman she'd known who'd become possessed. Nothing seemed
to help her. On the night before the woman was to be committed (a dark night
on which the woman was acting worse than she ever had), Madeleine got in bed
with her. She wrapped her arms around the woman and no matter how hard the
woman screamed and struggled, Madeleine didn't let her go. The woman fought
most of the night, but still, Madeleine held on and by morning, when Madeleine
finally released her, the woman had quieted; she'd become herself again.
Later, I told my editor - Patricia
Lee Gauch, of Philomel Books - about Tam Lin and Madeleine L'Engle's experience
and how much it had touched me. And Patti said, "Sally, you should retell
the Tam Lin story."
I balked. I'd never written fantasy
- only historical fiction and a contemporary novel. Besides which, Tam Lin
was set in faraway Scotland! To that, Patti said, "Why not set the story
in the Appalachian Mountains? The Scotch-Irish with their stories, traditions
and ballads settled there."
I found that intriguing.
Over the next five years, from
time to time, I'd feel the Tam Lin story stalking me. And then, on a vacation
trip south, I visited the Museum of Appalachia in Norris, Tennessee. I fell
in love with the mountain folk depicted there. From Grandpa Clear, of whom
his grandson wrote, "If he had the whole world and I wanted it, he'd
give it to me." To Cedar Creek Charlie who took care of his mother and
after she died, painted his entire house, inside and out, with stripes and
polka-dots. To Dr. Andy Osborne, who ministered to the sick and dying all
his days and when he died himself, the preacher who conducted the funeral
had to furnish Andy with a suit for his burial.
A thought hit me - sharp as a wolf's
bite - Tam Lin! I could retell the story using loving mountain folk like these!
They resonated with me; they were so singular, independent and downright endearing.
Two days later, among the isolated cabins, old barns and mist clinging to
the mountaintops surrounding Cades Cove - an historic settlement preserved
high in the Smoky Mountain National Park in Eastern Tennessee - I found a
magical and seemingly time-less setting in which to place the story.
After this, piling wonder on top of wonder, I attended the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee. Listening to the story tellers, many from the South, enchanted me even further and also evoked memories of kids I'd grown up with on my grandfather's Maryland farm - Teddy, Pop, Wanda, Jib, Charles and Earl - all hailing originally from West Virginia's Appalachians. As I hearkened back to the fun we'd had exploring the woods, building forts and sharing scary stories, I thought - I could tell the Tam Lin story Appalachian style.
So I finally settled down to do just that and the voice of the main character - Gnat Stokes, a feisty Tennessee mountain gal with a heart as big as sky - came pouring out. I loved Gnat Stokes. She was funny, fierce and so determined to find out about life and love so that she could save Goodlow Pryce from the evil clutches of the Swamp Queen. As I traveled with her, she took me on a journey that, at turns, had me laughing, crying and always - always - amazed by her cheerful optimism.
Gnat taught me a thing or two about love and a cheerful attitude as she dealt with the devastation of a mountain community stricken by America's Civil War, an evil Swamp Queen, a talking cat, the power of a mighty crystal called love and love's hardest side - letting go.
We had us a good old time - Tam Lin, American style - complete with singing, fiddle playing, cornbread, beans, moonshine, Swamp Cats, Swamp Knights, Warrior Bogies, little polka dotted fairies riding on the backs of stink-pot turtles and the like. I didn't want our Appalachian adventure to end. When that end came - as ends can and do - I had to say, "Gnat's story's told; I have to let her go," which turned out be the hardest thing of all.
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