Long ago, I found this book quite by chance, a single forlorn copy on a remainder table at the back of a local bookstore. Many years later, I'm still wondering why this novel of ancient Britain remains largely unknown, at least in the US. (That one edition, which I have seen online, has a truly hideous and inappropriate cover only partly explains the fact.)
"This book," the author says in a note at the end of the story, "evolved at a time of deep anxiety and physical exhaustion, out of a series of brief, waking dreams ... The name 'Yssa' came out of the blue; I began to wonder (correctly as I found later) whether I was dealing with a primitive version of Tristan and Isolde." While this statement is a bit puzzling -- Campbell's Tristan (she calls him 'Drost') doesn't even meet his Isolde until the book is more than half over, and even then the love interest plays a very small role in the plot -- that hardly matters, as Drost's story even without the romance is more than interesting enough.
The author sets her tale somewhere in the British Isles (probably Scotland) approximately 500 B.C. Drost is the son of Malda, "the Middle Priestess," conceived during the spring fertility rituals, and he spends his early childhood in the Hearth-house, where his mother instructs the young girls of their clan/tribe in the feminine mysteries and tends the holy fire. There he leads a peaceful life, for the most part removed from the tribal politics and the "sickness" of his people, which has set most of the men against the women and the old matriarchal religion.
The Men of the Boar have an unusual concept of kingship: that it is too great a responsibility for one man to bear alone. Accordingly, the burden is traditionally shared between two men, the actual King, who is the war-leader, and a "Dark Twin" who is selected to be his companion and adviser for the rest of his life (and to rule the tribe alone and ritually pass on the sacred kingship to the next generation if the King dies before his heir comes of age). When Drost is chosen to be the Twin of the young prince Ailill, he is whisked away from his safe and pleasant life among the women, and introduced into the harsher realities of the male cult and the New Way. Complicating all this is an instinctive apathy between the two boys; a convoluted history of murder, thwarted desire, and treachery between their two families; and the mystery surrounding Drost's paternity.
Campbell brings her early iron-age world vividly to life with simple but beautiful and evocative prose, reminiscent (in terms of historical fiction) of Mary Renault's The King Must Die and The Bull from the Sea, and (in terms of fantasy) Ursula K. LeGuin's A Wizard of Earthsea. There are some memorable characters: the bard Felim, the ancient priestess known only as "the Old One," the sinister priest Talorc, and the noble and tormented Melduin -- in love with Malda, but forced to sacrifice that love (and endure something even worse) for the sake of the tribe. And any aspiring writer who struggles with transitions, or who wonders how best to synopsize the events of many months or years, might benefit from a study of how gracefully this author handles the passage of time throughout her story.
The customs, legends, history, and details of day-to-day life (all the sights, sounds, smells, and textures) are obviously the result of much research and some very well-informed extrapolation, but it all flows in and out of the plot naturally and unobtrusively. Told in first person viewpoint, most of the narrative stays focused on Drost's personal feelings, and experiences; fortunately for the reader, the protagonist is a keen observer. The influence of Robert Graves's White Goddess appears throughout the story, but Campbell's interpretations seem more grounded and realistic, for all that dreams, prophecies, and metaphysics play such an important part in the story. One can't help feeling that whether or not this is the way it actually was during that time period, it so easily could have been.
THE DARK TWIN is not an action tale -- there is little bloodshed -- nor is it an epic tale by any stretch of the imagination, yet it is dramatic and absorbing in its own understated way, as Drost unravels the riddle of his own begetting, along with some even darker secrets in the history of his people. While there are no magical artifacts or mythical creatures, it reflects a world view that sees supernatural forces at work in everything -- as a result the magic, though subtle, is all-pervasive. This is a story that might appeal equally to readers of YA fantasy, historical novels, or metaphysical fiction.
"This book," the author says in a note at the end of the story, "evolved at a time of deep anxiety and physical exhaustion, out of a series of brief, waking dreams ... The name 'Yssa' came out of the blue; I began to wonder (correctly as I found later) whether I was dealing with a primitive version of Tristan and Isolde." While this statement is a bit puzzling -- Campbell's Tristan (she calls him 'Drost') doesn't even meet his Isolde until the book is more than half over, and even then the love interest plays a very small role in the plot -- that hardly matters, as Drost's story even without the romance is more than interesting enough.
The author sets her tale somewhere in the British Isles (probably Scotland) approximately 500 B.C. Drost is the son of Malda, "the Middle Priestess," conceived during the spring fertility rituals, and he spends his early childhood in the Hearth-house, where his mother instructs the young girls of their clan/tribe in the feminine mysteries and tends the holy fire. There he leads a peaceful life, for the most part removed from the tribal politics and the "sickness" of his people, which has set most of the men against the women and the old matriarchal religion.
The Men of the Boar have an unusual concept of kingship: that it is too great a responsibility for one man to bear alone. Accordingly, the burden is traditionally shared between two men, the actual King, who is the war-leader, and a "Dark Twin" who is selected to be his companion and adviser for the rest of his life (and to rule the tribe alone and ritually pass on the sacred kingship to the next generation if the King dies before his heir comes of age). When Drost is chosen to be the Twin of the young prince Ailill, he is whisked away from his safe and pleasant life among the women, and introduced into the harsher realities of the male cult and the New Way. Complicating all this is an instinctive apathy between the two boys; a convoluted history of murder, thwarted desire, and treachery between their two families; and the mystery surrounding Drost's paternity.
Campbell brings her early iron-age world vividly to life with simple but beautiful and evocative prose, reminiscent (in terms of historical fiction) of Mary Renault's The King Must Die and The Bull from the Sea, and (in terms of fantasy) Ursula K. LeGuin's A Wizard of Earthsea. There are some memorable characters: the bard Felim, the ancient priestess known only as "the Old One," the sinister priest Talorc, and the noble and tormented Melduin -- in love with Malda, but forced to sacrifice that love (and endure something even worse) for the sake of the tribe. And any aspiring writer who struggles with transitions, or who wonders how best to synopsize the events of many months or years, might benefit from a study of how gracefully this author handles the passage of time throughout her story.
The customs, legends, history, and details of day-to-day life (all the sights, sounds, smells, and textures) are obviously the result of much research and some very well-informed extrapolation, but it all flows in and out of the plot naturally and unobtrusively. Told in first person viewpoint, most of the narrative stays focused on Drost's personal feelings, and experiences; fortunately for the reader, the protagonist is a keen observer. The influence of Robert Graves's White Goddess appears throughout the story, but Campbell's interpretations seem more grounded and realistic, for all that dreams, prophecies, and metaphysics play such an important part in the story. One can't help feeling that whether or not this is the way it actually was during that time period, it so easily could have been.
THE DARK TWIN is not an action tale -- there is little bloodshed -- nor is it an epic tale by any stretch of the imagination, yet it is dramatic and absorbing in its own understated way, as Drost unravels the riddle of his own begetting, along with some even darker secrets in the history of his people. While there are no magical artifacts or mythical creatures, it reflects a world view that sees supernatural forces at work in everything -- as a result the magic, though subtle, is all-pervasive. This is a story that might appeal equally to readers of YA fantasy, historical novels, or metaphysical fiction.
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