The word fragment has been hanging around with me in this story lately. Fragments of time, characters, history, archeology, dialogue, belief systems… all sit before me on the table and ask me to piece together a full story. I love the puzzle of it honestly. Like the Christmas vacations where we would unbox a new puzzle and leave it on the table to be incrementally completed, undisturbed and un-rushed, for the duration of the holiday. Someone would inevitably drift towards the table and advance the cause a few pieces at a time until a final push lead to its celebratory completion. There would be photos and running your hand across its smooth reconstituted surface with smug happiness. That’s what I think I will feel like when this story comes together.
Lately I’ve been off in the Catholicism corner of the puzzle. Trying to unroll the machine of 1500 years of opinions about the material to what it might have looked like when St Columba and his fervent followers (including our Erna) came to the shores of Iona with their mission. I’ve been imagining the time before one of the official fragments of the Catholic religion occurred at the Synods of Whitby and Autun after Columba’s death. Trying to imagine a Catholic faith that was localized, mystic, assimilated the pagan deities into their teaching, and celebrated the sacredness of nature. How did they choose which deities and when to incorporate them?
A friend recommended the very popular entirely crowd sourced TV series The Chosen recently. It attempts to tell the story of Jesus and the disciples (including Mary Magdalene). The production team are all staunch believers and wanted to share their version of events so to speak. It’s engaging and for me interesting because of the subject matter and what I’m trying to do here. But it also reminded me of one of the reasons I am writing this book. The women are written by men. It’s all still based on the very edited version of events we have at our fingertips now and the ability to construct complex female characters within that, and by men who believe it, is almost impossible.
So I guess that’s why I’m here. On the outside imagining.
Below I have a fragment of dialogue between Erna and her pagan lover (yet to be named) as he responds to the gap he sees in her faith. It becomes a seminal moment of recognition for her and what she will bring into her belief system when she creates the scriptorium on her island of Hinba.
[I keep the content of the novel itself paywalled for my protection. If you are struggling financially right now please reach out and I’ll be happy to help get you access for a few months.]