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| A small, heavily armed Bard from the D&D 3.5 Player's Handbook. |
And all of those associations are full of shit. Yes, my associations are bullshit.
The Immortal Bard is Shakespeare, a playwright.* Stories are ridiculously important to me, as is music (even if my singing is painful beyond measure.) They speak to the kind of truth that isn't about facts, and that is something I hold dear. Allow me a digression (because I do love my digressions)...
Last May, I was in a discussion with a friend about my beliefs as a polytheist. Pretty sure this friend is an atheist, but not the proselytizing, anti-religious variety. Rather, she deeply and profoundly wanted to understand. And we spent a lot of time on the subject of mythologies. I said that myths could be true without having actually happened. That truth wasn't about factual instances, but something more. She truly had no idea what I was trying to say. No idea what I meant by separating truth from fact. I told her to read The Little Prince. A day and a half later she came to me and said she understood, though her precise words were thanking me for making her read that book.
Bards don't report facts. Facts are much like statistics, they can be twisted to mean just about anything. Bards are truth tellers. They speak to the truth of the matter, but they do so through the performance and written arts... the non-visual arts. The art of music, of dance, of theater, of poetry, of stories... and maybe too the visual arts but we don't call them Bards. Maybe we should. Because if you stand in the Musée d'Orsay in front Van Gogh's Starry Night Over the Rhone, I defy you not to see the truth in his work. Or more contemporarily, Bards are found in film. Casablanca is a fictional story, made during WWII in 1942, and it has became a classic. More importantly is the scene where the cast begins to sing the French national anthem, drowning out the nazis's own song. What most people don't realize is that extras and minors roles were filled with many refugees and exiles. The fictional film brings to light the truth that could not be otherwise felt deep in one's gut.
I have a deep and abiding love for art. Honestly, my deep and abiding love for art is especially true for those forms that are "traditionally" in the bardic arts. Written and spoken word, music and performance. Yet, my associations are so dismissive. I'm not saying there isn't frippery and really really BAD shit in those fields (I hesitate to use art to describe anything Katy Perry has touched); however, even in the shit-tastic land of pop music charts we get gems like Cee Lo's "Fuck You." And if you have ever been dumped, no matter the circumstances, you most likely can relate to that one.
The specific word "Bard" has been on my mind for over a year. Since a professional divination reading (in regards to a ritual I did that year) turned up the word, it has been on my mind. But it came up in connection to another word, and that to me is a large part of why Bards differ from other artists.
Community.
Bards serve communities. They speak for a people, even if that people has yet to emerge. Shakespeare wrote for England, and though he did write for royalty, his main audience was the average worker. Today's high brow art form is literally yesterday's flipping the finger (or even fart jokes.) It spoke to a community of people.
I am lacking in community these days. I have been remiss in establishing a spiritual network, or any sort of local network for that matter. My social systems are scattered around the country. Texas, Missouri, California, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, Washington, District of Columbia... Yeah, I'm not so locally based, and none of that community is spiritually based.
Which is something I've seen the need to change. And I'm beginning to. Slowly.
Except that word keeps ringing in my ears. Bard. Bard. Bard. Each time like a clear bell tone, cutting through the cacophony in my head. I am a writer. I am a story teller. I am occasionally even a poet. I've been a musician, and perhaps it is time to retrain that as well. That word ringing between my ears, and after over a year of marinating, I'm pretty sure it is something I need to become. At least, for now, as who knows what tomorrow shall bring. For now, though, it is an archetype to work with, to contextualize experience, and to give direction to my ever present learning.
None of this even begins to touch on the power that the bardic arts have. Words have power, and language is a spell, a magical system, even before we start down the path of us spooky types. Words the ingredients, grammar the structure, the rules to follow and break as we so choose. The power of practice and focused rehearsal, of the repetition of edits and hammering out that sentence or rhyme. But... I've rambled for long enough. The innate magics of Bards can be a subject for another time.
*Throughout this post I use and reference Shakespeare, and another dead white guy here and there. I actually am not a fan of how "big" such works are and how thoroughly canonized Shakespeare's plays have become, nor am I a huge fan of using yet another dead white dude; however, they are convient examples because of all that jazz, since most people are familiar with such works and general attitudes about it. Maybe one day I'll post a rant about the literary canon. My old professors would be so proud. (/sarcasm.)
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