The Absence of Folktales, Pt 2

So between the last blog post and this one, I did more research about folk tales, folklore, and fairy tales in my area of Humboldt County in northern California. I made a trip to the local library and did some online research that led me toward cryptids and stories of settlers and pioneers. And I made some realizations. 

• I'm looking for mythical stories, not embellished accounts of historical events.
• I'm looking for older stories than that of the white colonizers who came here in the 1800s.
• I'm not looking for Native American stories, as they are not my stories to tell.

So I'm left with a bit of a conundrum: the things I'm looking for don't exist. And it makes sense because the epic tales of magic and personified elemental forces that were told orally and passed down through the generations belong to the native peoples of the region, much like those tales belonged to ancient Celts and Norsemen in Europe. 

And while I am of white European heritage (Scottish and English in particular), and feel I might justify the use of those stories to fuel my art without the guilt of cultural appropriation, I don't feel it's my right to use Native American stories so I can sell my artwork. It doesn't feel right. Those aren't my stories to use so I can make money. The indigenous peoples of this land have already had generations of white people taking things from them, and I don't need to do that, too. They're not mine.

So I am left with the intriguing idea of inventing some of my own folktales for the area I live in. I may try to create some iconic figures and elemental personifications that I can use in my work. It's almost like creating a pantheon, or world building. Many fantasy novelists and Role-Playing Game players have indulged in creating their own imaginative worlds. The most popular method to do so is to start with a cartographic map of the world itself, fleshing out the details as one progresses. I won't be needing a map, though.

Instead I've been pondering the characteristics of my environment. I've been thinking about the trees, and creatures that live within them. The ocean. The sun. The fog. I've started creating relationships in my head using personifications of these environmental elements, and I'm having a wonderful time doing so. I already have many characters I've invented, and entire social structures that encourage so much exploration and visual opportunity. 

It's scary to share this, in a way, because it's so seminal and fragile. But in a way, it's not an original idea, and there's no need to be precious with it. When I look back at some of the artists that I admire, and the work they've done that alludes to this type of subject matter, I realize that artists have been painting personifications of elemental forces for hundreds of years. Symbolism, Narrative Art, and Fan Art have all existed for centuries but in different historical contexts. All the portraits of Saints could be considered Fan Art. All the Neoclassical depictions of mythic Greek gods and the symbolism of subjects and composition are full of visually-depicted story.

The top image above, by Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh, was inspired by the sonnets of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, a writer and Pre-Raphaelite painter. Many paintings and sculptures have been inspired by pieces of literature or plays or mythic heroes. It's an easy step toward doing so myself and perhaps will scratch the "narrative" itch I've felt to do art that tells a story. The second, darker image is another piece of Macdonald Mackintosh's called La Mort Parfumée depicting the climax of the 1913 play La Pisanelle by Gabriele d’Annunzio. 

If they can do it, so I can I. So I will.