THIS is for my beloved friends on this LJ....this is for YOU.
THE HERO WITH A THOUSAND FACES
By Linda Walsh, 2010
(ttto “McDonald On The Hill”)
The seed that births the Hero isn’t nurtured in the womb
A drop of ink ignites a life in a writer’s lonely room
He’s born of someone’s fancy—someone just like you or I
But their dream contains a spark that will not die
A feather-stroke of sumi ink upon a page of white
A pencil sketch on legal pad—a young man springs to life
A manga stall in Tokyo—a bookshop in Detroit
We will gather there to read of his exploits
(chorus)
He bears a thousand faces and a hundred million names
A scribble or a keystroke and his life begins again
No single bard or artist takes the credit for his birth
For the Hero’s tale is older than the Earth….
A tattered book is cherished as it’s passed from hand to hand
The young man quest retold in countless tongues and foreign lands
It changes in the telling as his tale becomes our own
In the landscape of our dreams he makes his home
At multiplex and IMAX the adventure will unfold
The profits are astounding from a franchise bought and sold
His figure sells on Ebay—I cannot afford the cost
And along the way beloved tales get lost….
(chorus)
He bears a thousand faces and a hundred million names
A scribble or a keystroke and his life begins again
No single bard or artist takes the credit for his birth
For the Hero’s tale is older than the Earth….
It’s sequel after sequel—milk a franchise half to death
When we squeeze each drop of profit we are squeezing out the breath
Of a young man on Adventure’s Road—his triumps and his pain
But within our home-spun tales he breathes again
The Realm of Dreams contains a room unseen by waking eyes
Where the songs and art and fanfics scorned as cannon-less and lies
Have been bound with love and tender care on a billion star-lit shelves
Where in joy the Hero reads about himself
(chorus)
He bears a thousand faces and a hundred million names
A scribble or a keystroke and his life begins again
No single bard or artist takes the credit for his birth
For the Hero’s tale is older than the Earth….
You’d think the book that starts his shelf ought to bear the name of one
Who has sold the book—who owns the rights—when all is said and done
But their empires are inspired by the hero’s tales of yore
And though the names and lands have changed, they will endure
Is it Harry Potter’s magic---or the Elric’s alchemy?
They are dreams that weave the Hero’s bones—the mythic’s tapestry
From painted cave to Blu-ray, ‘cross a thousand stars and seas—
His enduring tale’s his immortality
His enduring tale’s his immortality…..
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