"One evening before midsummer, a sunset of rare beauty kindled above Ocean." (p. 117)
Clouds shine every hue from rose to gold against clear blue slowly deepening to purple. The sea reflects. Splendour fades but fieriness returns. Ysans swarm the sea wall, murmuring wonder. Slowly glory smoulders. Rufinus sees from the top of the Polaris tower but goes to the wall for a better view, collecting Tommaltach from a lower floor.
The King of Ys is about the spiritual development of its characters. Cynan has converted to Mithraism. Gratillonius has been consecrated Father in the Mystery - and will later convert to Christianity. Now something similar starts to happen to the formerly frivolous Tommaltach who says that the sunset was:
"'...a sight of the Beyond...'" (p. 118);
"'...the flames of Mag Mell...'" (ibid.) - a Celtic paradise in the western ocean;
or maybe a glimpse "'...from One Who is above the Gods.'" (ibid.)
This talk is too serious for Rufinus who suggests a drink in his apartment. The vestmented Mithraists emerge from their Mithraeum in the Raven Tower. Rufinus remarks that, while Gratillonius and his co-religionists had worshiped the Sun underground, he had given everyone else a marvellous spectacle. Gratillonius, still exalted, replies that Mithras's light had shone on their souls. Strangely, as if echoing Corentinus, he urges Rufinus to listen but the Bacauda remains true to himself. However, Tommaltach bursts out that he would try to understand. Seeing the city and the world beyond has shown him that he really knows nothing. The gods of Eriu are far away and small. Unlike Corentinus, Gratillonius tells Tommaltach not to mock those gods but will talk with him about whether Mithras is Lord.
Another soul begins its journey. Also, there are two kinds of light.
See also Light.
8 comments:
This illustrates the weakness of 'localist' faiths in a world that's still very large, before the fall of the Empire.
Note the importance of -saints- (usually local) in post-Roman Latin Christianity; they fulfilled many of the emotional functions of localized spirits and deities in a world once more grown small.
Most people in the Roman Empire didn't travel far, either, but a substantial minority did, and they tended to be the locally influential, and everyone knew that far-away forces -- markets, the Imperial government -- influenced their lives.
Eg., even impoverished peasants in northern Britannia bought mass-produced 'terra sigilata' pottery shipped hundreds of miles. And joining the Army could get you sent anywhere from Scotland to Mesopotamia for years.
By contrast, most even of the upper classes in the medieval period were very tied to a locality.
Kaor, Mr. Stirling!
And joining the Legions might end with an ambitious soldier rising thru the ranks--and even being hailed as Emperor. That famous luck of the soldier!
But it was not good to have military coups determining the succession to the throne!
Ad astra! Sean
Sean: that was the great weakness of the Empire. It had become a monarchy in a culture with a strong anti-monarchic bias and well past its "age of legends".
Kaor, Mr. Stirling!
I agree, the Empire's great weakness was lacking a strong sense of dynastic legitimacy. A flaw that might have been overcome by Marcus Aurelius' reign if he had a son more able and level headed than Commodus (again, I thought of his other son, Marcus Annius Verus, who died from a failed surgery). Precedent and custom might have stabilized the Imperial monarchy.
Ad astra! Sean
I have wondered if the custom of adopting a competent non-relative as the next emperor, as happened almost by accident between Nerva & Marcus Aurelius, could have been formalized?
Some way of formal succession rather than a military coup was needed in Rome & something that didn't risk an idiot son as Emperor was highly desirable.
Kaor, Jim!
And you reminded me of Robert Silverberg's Majipoor books, set thousands of years from now on the giant planet of that name. Majipoor was ruled by an emperor called the Pontifex, who had a junior co-ruler, adopted son, and heir apparent called the Coronal. Whenever the Pontifex died he was succeeded by the Coronal who then adopted as his son a man who became the new Coronal.
I don't know if such an arrangement would work well for really long periods, centuries, in real life, but it's worth taking a look at.
Also, the political set up on Majipoor was somewhat more complicated than sketched out above, incuding as it did the Lady of the Isle and the King of Dreams.
Ad astra! Sean
Note that the adopted Emperors were usually relatives.
Marcus Aurelius was Antoninus' adopted son, but also his nephew.
Given the mortality rate, it was rather likely that any given man living in a city would have no surviving son.
Marcus Aurelius and his wife had fourteen children, of which two daughters and his son Commodus survived him. For a family resident in Rome, that was a fairly average survival ratio; most people didn't have 14 kids, though.
Kaor, Mr. Stirling!
True, what you said about Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius. The former did have two sons of his own, but they died young, before Hadrian adopted Antoninus.
I knew Marcus Aurelius had 14 children, and of how most of them died young. I suspect the time travelers stranded in the Rome of your Antonine books plan to do something about preventing Marcus Annius Verus from dying young!
Ad astra! Sea
Post a Comment