More About "Them"
THE OTHERS
Don't call 'em fairies- that's Puck's advice,
But if you must, change "i" to "e",
Which looks a little more Jacobethan-
More like dark nights on the Northern moors
Than twinkle-time in a Bayswater garden.
The Sidhe or people of the hills
Or whatever we settle on calling them
Are not exactly amoral or cruel
But, looking at us as part of the landscape,
Will burn a barn or snap a limb
Or blow us up with combustible gas
With as little conscience as we hack trees
Or dump an old Hotpoint into a brook.
So its not quite war but there's wariness
And sometimes love. We have glamour for them
As they have for us. We change; They don't
And the fascination of otherness
Will get the occasional cavalier hoiked
Into faeryland and the odd seal-wife
Hitched up with a fisher. It rarely ends well:
The silkie goes slapping back down to the sea
After the breaking of some taboo
That was bound to be broken, while young Tam Lin
Gets a strong-armed girlfriend to wrestle him out
Of the seasonal ride. Their rituals are fixed
And as dull to us a Hapsburg court's
While our love of adventure must flay their nerves
And threaten their rules. We humans are creatures
More complex than they are, much less to the point.
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I've been reading Harry Potter. Wizards find non-magic folk fascinating. They still write with quill pens--it's as if the magic world doesn't change--can't figure out why it's stuck in medieval times.
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I've thought the similar things about vampires. What a bore it must be after a few centuries.
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On the whole I think we mortals get a better deal
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