From an interview with storyteller, writer, and mythographer Martin Shaw, upon being asked how to find new stories relevant to times we live in:
"First thing we gotta do is trail the stories not trap them," Martin answers. "If you trap a story, you’ve put it in a little allegorical cage where you pretend you know what it means. The moment you think you know what the story means from beginning to end, it’s lost its nutrition, it’s lost its protein, it’s lost its danger.
"Seamus Heaney, the poet, says that a poet is somebody with a tuned ear. And in a way tuning your listening to stories is a discipline. You know we are living in a world where people spend endless amounts of time in the gym, endless amounts of time toning their body, but their minds lack discipline. You know what it is: you have to let a story have its way with you. You can’t tell the story what it is. You learn to sit in the radiance of it until something comes from the story that disturbs you or bugs you or makes you happy, until you have to do something with it. But that is not the same thing as using a story to make a psychological point or to support a contemporary polemic.
"Because I’m a storyteller and a writer, people are always saying to me, 'Can you find us a story so we can make this point? We want to make a point about climate change. We want to make a point about gender. Will you send us something over that supports it?' Now that’s backwards to me. Story is first. You have to be in the presence of the story, which I regard as a living being: it’s a wild animal; it’s got tusks, udders; it’s got a tail; it doesn’t behave; half the time you want it to be there it’s disappeared, it’s shuffled off somewhere else. Stories should be filled with so much consequence and danger, they won’t behave for your polemic."
"There’s no way we can’t create stories," he adds, "which are the things that really feed our bones; that’s what we’re hunkering down for. Stories bring in what is at the edge of our vision and not right at the center. So in other words, in an old myth, if there’s a crisis in the story, the remedy for the crisis always comes from the edge not the center. So when I think about the times we’re in, and I think about what is actually happening to our gaze -- what we are fundamentally staring at all the time -- I think, that’s not a mythological move. A mythological move is to be aware of all the hundred trembling secrets at the edge of your vision. Because they are the things that want to secrete their intelligence into you about the problem that’s right in front of you.
"But if you think about great myth -- if you keep staring at Medusa, you get turned to ashes. And when I meet a lot of activists at the moment, I meet a lot of people utterly consumed with the seemingly horrible narrative of our times. I see a lot of burn out, because they have no shield to reflect, they have no art to reflect, the immensity of what’s right in front of them. If all you do is stare into hell, you will become ashes.
"Stories are a way, an artful way, of negotiating very difficult things in such a fashion that, in the very demonstration and articulation of those stories, more beauty works itself out into the world."
Words: The two passages above are from "Mud and Antler Bone," the transcript of a podcast interview with Martin Shaw by Emmanuel Vaughan-Lee (Emergence Magazine). The poem in the picture captions is from Fishing for Myth by Heid E. Erdrich (New Rivers Press, 1997), whose five poetry collections I recommend. All rights reserved by the authors. Photographs: Visiting our animal neighbours on a fine autumn day. Art: The charming little drawing is by French illustrator Joanna Concejo.