transemacabre (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
transemacabre) wrote2006-08-10 05:54 pm
transemacabre) wrote2006-08-10 05:54 pm
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Write your own Sharon Kay Penman scene!
Lord and Savior of Historical Fiction? Uh huh.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! I am much afeared that King Dastardly will use this as a convenient polical pretext to declare war on the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welsh.
Overly Noble Knight: Do not be afraid, cariad/my love/insert other term of endearment here. I know King Dastardly's plot is doomed to fail because of Insert Long-winded Snippet of Backstory Cribbed from Matthew Paris/Gerald of Wales/William le Breton. So you see, the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welsh shall always prevail.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! You speak the truth indeed. My love for you is like the love of Biblical Heroine for Biblical Hero.
Overly Noble Knight: I love you as the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welshmen love their Beautiful, Free-Spirited, and Empowered Welshwomen. Or their sheep.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu, but our love is forbidden! Because we are of different social classes, and yet we spend hours upon hours alone together!
Overly Noble Knight: Now I must take my leave of you, cariad/my love/insert other term of endearment here, for I must needs angst and whine and feel sorry for myself for another twenty-three chapters.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu, I would not have you be so tormented by guilt!
Overly Noble Knight: Be not concerned. In the twenty-fourth chapter I shall come to a sudden realization that our love was shallow and meaningless, though we did angst about it endlessly for years. Thus shall the conclusion be both annoying and unsatisfying.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu, it shall be so. In the meantime, I shall muse on how our love is very like the celebrated love of Noble Warrior King for Lady Fair, and therefore I am not at all like a tawdry whore. And I shall also muse upon the treatment of the Good, Noble, and Unfairly Persecuted Jews.
Rogueish Bad Boy: Haha! I am sexy and of ambiguous morality. Do you not find yourself with lust in your liver for me, for did not medieval people have funny ideas about organs and shit like that?
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! You are not at all an overly noble knight or the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welsh
Rogueish Bad Boy: Haha! No, but I do have an eyepatch or some rogueish shit like that. I also probably have some sort of weird dysfunctional relationship with my mother, which is why I fuck around so much.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! I fear that I have become Insert Glaringly Modern Psychological Self-Asessment Here and that is why I shall ignore all my previous declarations of love for Overly Noble Knight and couple with you in this tent or whatever. For I am not at all like a tawdry whore!
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! I am much afeared that King Dastardly will use this as a convenient polical pretext to declare war on the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welsh.
Overly Noble Knight: Do not be afraid, cariad/my love/insert other term of endearment here. I know King Dastardly's plot is doomed to fail because of Insert Long-winded Snippet of Backstory Cribbed from Matthew Paris/Gerald of Wales/William le Breton. So you see, the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welsh shall always prevail.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! You speak the truth indeed. My love for you is like the love of Biblical Heroine for Biblical Hero.
Overly Noble Knight: I love you as the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welshmen love their Beautiful, Free-Spirited, and Empowered Welshwomen. Or their sheep.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu, but our love is forbidden! Because we are of different social classes, and yet we spend hours upon hours alone together!
Overly Noble Knight: Now I must take my leave of you, cariad/my love/insert other term of endearment here, for I must needs angst and whine and feel sorry for myself for another twenty-three chapters.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu, I would not have you be so tormented by guilt!
Overly Noble Knight: Be not concerned. In the twenty-fourth chapter I shall come to a sudden realization that our love was shallow and meaningless, though we did angst about it endlessly for years. Thus shall the conclusion be both annoying and unsatisfying.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu, it shall be so. In the meantime, I shall muse on how our love is very like the celebrated love of Noble Warrior King for Lady Fair, and therefore I am not at all like a tawdry whore. And I shall also muse upon the treatment of the Good, Noble, and Unfairly Persecuted Jews.
Rogueish Bad Boy: Haha! I am sexy and of ambiguous morality. Do you not find yourself with lust in your liver for me, for did not medieval people have funny ideas about organs and shit like that?
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! You are not at all an overly noble knight or the Cultured, Noble, and Poetically Heroic Welsh
Rogueish Bad Boy: Haha! No, but I do have an eyepatch or some rogueish shit like that. I also probably have some sort of weird dysfunctional relationship with my mother, which is why I fuck around so much.
Spitfire Heroine: Jesu! I fear that I have become Insert Glaringly Modern Psychological Self-Asessment Here and that is why I shall ignore all my previous declarations of love for Overly Noble Knight and couple with you in this tent or whatever. For I am not at all like a tawdry whore!
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Have you read the Anne Scott MacLeod article on too-modern characters in historical fiction? (Her target is young adult historical fiction, but it's equally true of adult stuff!)
Mind, Walter Scott started it with his genteel Regency Scots Episcopalians in fancy dress. Sort of, Mr Darcy's Edinburgh cousins on crusade...