It Could Happen Here - CZM Book Club: "Svend and His Brethren" by William Morris, Part Two

Episode Date: October 6, 2024

Margaret reads you even more William Morris, but this story has swords in it.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hey guys, I'm Kate Max. You might know me from my popular online series, The Running Interview Show, where I run with celebrities, athletes, entrepreneurs, and more. After those runs, the conversations keep going. That's what my podcast, Post Run High, is all about. It's a chance to sit down with my guests and dive even deeper into their stories, their journeys, and the thoughts that arise once we've hit the pavement together. Listen to Post Run High on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. The 2025 iHeart Podcast Awards are coming.

This is the chance to nominate your podcast for the industry's biggest award. Submit your podcast for nomination now at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. But hurry, submissions close on December 8th. Hey, you've been doing all that talking. It's time to get rewarded for it. Submit your podcast today at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. That's iHeart.com slash podcast awards. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast. And we're kicking off our second season digging into tech's elite

and how they've turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech brought to you by an industry veteran with nothing to lose. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts,

wherever else you get your podcasts from. Welcome to Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get real and dive straight into todo lo actual y viral. We're talking musica, los premios, el chisme, and all things trending in my cultura. I'm bringing you all the latest happening in our entertainment world

and some fun and impactful interviews with your favorite Latin artists, comedians, actors, and influencers. Each week, we get deep and raw life stories, combos on the issues that matter to us, and it's all packed with gems, fun, straight-up comedia, and that's a song that only nuestra gente can sprinkle. Listen to Gracias Come Again on the iHeartRadio app, Apple podcast, or wherever you get your podcast. Hey, I'm Jacqueline Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while running errands or at the end

of a busy day. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Listen to Black Lit on the Black Effect Podcast Network, iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. AT&T, connecting changes everything. Cool Zone Media. Cool Zone Media Book Club. That's always been our introduction to Cool Zone Media Book Club. Hi, I'm your host, Margaret Kiljoy. Every week on Cool Zone Media Book Club, I bring you stories so you don't have to do the reading because I do it for you. I think that is our actual official slogan. But if you're checking in, if you're tuning in in now you're tuning into part two of a story

because part one was last week in part one of zvend and his brethren we haven't even met zvend of the brethren having instead we met cecila in this story by william morris written in 1856 or published in 1856 who knows when he fucking wrote it probably 1856 we met met Cecilia who lived in a country holding back an empire and they were losing badly. And she sacrificed her own happiness to go be with the king. And she's not happy about it. And that's where she's at right now. And I'm reading you this story because I think it inspires a ton of stuff that comes later. And I see almost no one talking about the story. I was like, dear the internet, is Vend and his brethren a big deal in literature? And everyone knows about it because it's William Morris and clearly is an inspiration for those who walked away from

Omelas. And the internet was like, here's two paragraphs of one person talking about his Vend and his brethren. So you talking about it with your friends is the first talking about it because we discovered it much like I'm attempting to make some sort of vague reference to colonialism and how people pretend to discover things that clearly people have known about. Like William Morris is not a minor figure in literature. I'm sure other people have talked about it. I just couldn't find anything. figure in literature. I'm sure other people have talked about it. I just couldn't find anything. But we're going to talk about it a little bit after we finish reading it. But first,

we're going to finish reading it. And by we, I mean me. Okay, this story kind of fast forwards. You'll probably notice that. Come, Harold, said a beautiful golden haired boy to one who is plainly his younger brother. Come, Harold, said a beautiful golden-haired boy to one who was plainly his younger brother. Come, let us leave Robert here by the forge, to show our lady mother this beautiful thing. Sweet master armorer, farewell. Are you going to the queen, then, said the armorer? Yea, said the boy, looking wonderingly at the strong craftsman's eager face. But nay, let me look at you a while longer.

You remind me so much of one I loved long ago in my own land. Stay a while till your other brother goes with you. Well, I will stay. And think of what you have been telling me. I do not feel as that I should ever think of anything else for long together, as long as I live. So he sat down again on an old battered anvil, and seemed with his bright eyes to be holding something in the land of dreams. A gallant dream it was he dreamed, for he saw himself with his brothers and friends about him, seated on a throne, the justest king in all the earth, his people the lovinest of all people. He saw the ambassadors of the restored nation that had been unjustly dealt a long time ago. Everywhere love and peace if possible, justice and truth at all events.

Alas, he knew not that vengeance, so long delayed, must fall at last in his lifetime. He knew not that it takes longer to restore that whose growth has been through age and age than the few years of a lifetime. Yet was the reality good, if not as good as the dream. Presently his twin brother Robert woke him from that dream, calling out, Now, brothers Vend, are we really ready? See here, but stop, kneel first. There, now I am the bishop. And he pulled his brother down on his knees and put on his head,

where it fitted loosely enough now, hanging down from left to right, an iron crown fantastically wrought, which he himself, having just finished it, had taken out of the water, cool and dripping. Robert and Harold laughed loud when they saw the crown hanging all askew, and the great drops rolling from it into Sven's eyes and down his cheeks, looking like tears. Not so Sven, he rose, holding the crown level on his head, holding it back, so that it pressed against his brow hard, and first, dashing the drops to left and right, caught his brother by the hand and said, May I keep it, Robert? I shall wear it someday. Yea, said the other, but it is a poor thing.

Better let Shur put it in the furnace again, and make it into sword hilts. Thereupon they began to go, Zvend holding the crown in his hand. But as they were going, Shur called out, Yet I will sell my dagger at a price, Prince Zvend, even as you wished at first, rather than give it to you for nothing. Well, for what? said Zvend, even as you wished at first, rather than give it to you for nothing. Well, for what, said Svend, somewhat shortly, for he thought Shur was going back from his promise, which was ugly to him. Nay, be not angry, Prince, said the armorer, only I pray you to satisfy this whim of mine. It is the first favor I have asked of you. You will ask the fair, noble lady, your mother, from Shur the smith, if she is happy now.

Willingly, sweet master Shur, if it pleases you, farewell. And with happy young faces they went away, and when they were gone, Shur from a secret place drew out various weapons and armor, and began to work at them, having first drawn bolt and bar of his workshop carefully. Zvend, with Harold and Robert, his two brethren, went their ways to the queen and found her sitting alone in a fair court of the palace full of flowers, with a marble cloister round about it, and when she saw them coming, she rose up to meet them, her three fair sons. Truly, as that right royal woman bent over them lovingly, there seemed to be little need of Shur's question. So Svend showed her his dagger, but not the crown, and she asked many questions concerning Shur the smith about his way of talking

and his face, the color of his hair even, till the boys wondered, she questioned them so closely with beaming eyes and glowing cheeks, so that Svend thought he had never before seen his mother look so beautiful. Then Svend said, and mother, don't be angry with Shur, will you? Because he sent a message to you by me. Angry? And straight away, her soul was wandering where her body could not come. And for a moment or two, she was living as before with him close by her in the old mountain land. Well, mother, he wanted me to ask if you were happy now. Did he, Svend, this man with brown hair, grizzled as you say it is now, is his hair soft then, this sure, going down onto his shoulders in waves? And eyes do they grow steadily as if lighted up from

his heart and how does he speak did you not tell me that his words led you whether you would or no into dreamland ah well tell him i am happy but not so happy as we shall be as we were and so you son robert are getting to be quite a cunning smith. But do you think you will ever beat Shur? Ah, mother, no, he said. There is something with him that makes him seem quite infinitely beyond all other workmen I have ever heard of. And if you want to buy products from the finest work people in all the realm, I suggest the sponsor of this podcast,

Medieval Weaponry. No one's sad when they have a sword or a dagger, mace, morning star, flail, spear. Spears are quite lovely. We also probably have other ads. Let's find out. Hey guys, I'm Kate Max. You might know me from my popular online series, The Running Interview Show, where I run with celebrities, athletes, entrepreneurs, and more. After those runs, the conversations keep going. That's what my podcast, Post Run High, is all about. sit down with my guests and dive even deeper into their stories,

their journeys, and the thoughts that arise once we've hit the pavement together. You know that rush of endorphins you feel after a great workout? Well, that's when the real magic happens. So if you love hearing real, inspiring stories from the people you know, follow, and admire, join me every week for Post Run High. It's where we take the conversation beyond the run and get into the heart of it all. It's lighthearted, pretty crazy, and very fun. Listen to Post Run High on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season

digging into how tech's elite has turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry veteran with nothing to lose. This season, I'm going to be joined by everyone from Nobel-winning economists to leading journalists in the field. And I'll be digging into why the products you love keep getting worse

and naming and shaming those responsible. Don't get me wrong, though. I love technology. I just hate the people in charge and want them to get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to God, things can change if we're loud enough. So join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry and what could be done to make real people. I swear to God, things can change if we're loud enough. So join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry

and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly. I am talking to a felon right now and I cannot decide if I like him or not.

Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take real phone calls from anonymous strangers all over the world as a fake gecko therapist and try to dig into their brains and learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's pretty interesting if you give it a shot.

Matter of fact, here's a few more examples of the kinds of calls we get on this show. I live with my boyfriend, and I found his piss jar in our apartment. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. I have very overbearing parents. Even at the age of 29, they won't let me move out of their house. So if you want an excuse to get out of your own head and see what's going on in someone else's head, search for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It's the one with the green guy on it. Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series,

Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands, for those who find themselves seeking solace, wisdom, and refuge between the chapters. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works while uncovering the stories of the brilliant writers behind them.

Blacklit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers and to bring their words to life. Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hola, mi gente. It's Honey German, and I'm bringing you Gracias, Come Again, the podcast where we dive deep into the world of Latin culture, musica, peliculas, and entertainment with some of the biggest names in the game. If you love hearing real conversations with your favorite Latin celebrities, artists, and culture shifters, this is the podcast for you. We're talking real conversations with our Latin stars,

from actors and artists to musicians and creators, sharing their stories, struggles, and successes. You know it's going to be filled with chisme laughs and all the vibes that you love. From actors and artists to musicians and creators sharing their stories, struggles, and successes. You know it's going to be filled with chisme laughs and all the vibes that you love. Each week we'll explore everything from music and pop culture to deeper topics like identity, community, and breaking down barriers in all sorts of industries. Don't miss out on the fun, el té caliente, and life stories. Join me for Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get into todo lo actual y viral. Listen to Gracias Come Again

on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. And we're back. And we're back. Some memory coming from that dreamland smoke upon her heart more than the others. She blushed like a young girl and said hesitatingly, Does he work with his left hand, son Robert?

For I have heard that some men do so. But in her heart she remembered how once long ago in the old mountain country in her father's house, someone had said that only men who were born so could do cunningly with their left hand. And how sure then quite a boy had said, well, I will try. And how in a month or two, he had come to her with an armlet of silver, very curiously wrought, which he had done with his own left hand. So Robert said, Yay, mother, he works with his left hand almost as much as with his right. And sometimes I have seen him change the hammer suddenly from his right to his left with a kind of half smile,

as one who could say, Can I not then? And this more when he does Smith's work in metal than when he works in marble. And once I heard him say when he did so, I wonder where my first left-hand work is. Ah, I bide my time. I wonder also, mother, what he meant by that. She answered no word but shook her arm free from its broad sleeve, and something glittered on it, near her wrist, something wrought out of silver, set with quaint and uncouthly cut stones of little value. In the council chamber among the lords sat Zvend with his six brethren, he chief of all in wielding of sword or axe, in the government of people, in drawing the love of men and women to him. Perfect in face and body and wisdom and strength was Venn.

Next to him sat Robert, cunning in working of marble or wood or brass, all things he could make to look as if they lived, from the sweep of an angel's wing down to the slipping of a little field mouse from under the sheath in the harvest time. Then there was Harold, who knew concerning all the stars of heaven and flowers of earth. Richard, who drew men's hearts from their bodies, with the words that swung to and fro in his glorious rhymes. William, to whom the air of heaven seemed a servant when the harp strings quivered underneath his fingers. There were the two sailor brothers who the year before, young though they were,

had come back from a long perilous voyage with news of an island they had found long and long away to the west, larger than any that his people knew of, but very fair and good, though uninhabited. But now over all this noble brotherhood, with all its various gifts, hung one cloud of sorrow. Their mother, the Peace Queen Sesele, was dead. She who had taught them truth and nobleness so well, she was never to see the beginning of the end that they would work. Truly, it seems sad. There sat the seven brothers in the council chamber, waiting for the king, speaking no word, only thinking drearily under the pavement of the great church Cicella

lay, and by the side of her tomb stood two men, old men both, Voldemar the king and sure. So the king, after that he had gazed a while on the carven face of her he had loved so well, said at last, and now, Sir Carver, you must carve me also to lie there. And he pointed to the vacant spot by the side of the fair alabaster figure. Oh, King, said Shore, except for a very few strokes on steel, I have done work now, having carved the queen there. I cannot do this thing for you. What was it sent a sharp pang of bitterest suspicion through the very heart of the poor old man? He looked steadfastly at him a moment or two, as if he would know all secrets. He could not. He had not the strength of life enough to get to the bottom of things. Doubt

vanished soon from his heart, and his face under Shor's pitying gaze. He said, pitying gaze, he said, then perhaps I shall be my own statue. And therewithal he sat down on the edge of the low marble tomb and laid his right arm across her breast. He fixed his eyes on the eastern belt of windows and sat quite motionless and silent. And he never knew that she loved him not. But sure, when he gazed at him a while, stole away quietly, as we do when we fear to wake a sleeper, and the king never turned his head, but still sat there, never moving, scarce breathing, it seemed. Shur stood in his own great hall, for his house was large. He stood before the dais, saw a fair sight, the work of his own hands. For, fronting him, against the wall, were seven thrones, and behind them a cloth of samite of

purple wrought with golden stars, and barred across from right to left with long bars of silver and crimson, and edged below with melancholy, fading green, like a September sunset, and opposite each throne was a glittering suit of armor wrought wonderfully in bright steel, except that on the breast of each suit was a face worked marvelously in enamel, the face of Sesella in a glory of golden hair. And the glory of that gold spread away from the breast on all sides, and ran cunningly along with the steel rings, in such a way as it is hard even to imagine. Moreover, on the crest of each helm was wrought the phoenix,

the never-dying bird, the only creature that knows the sun. And by each suit lay a gleaming sword terrible to look at, steel from pommel to point, but wrought along the blade in burnished gold that outflashed the gleam of the steel, was written in fantastic letters the word Westward. And also gleaming steel are medieval weapons. Here they are, the ads that are only for medieval weaponry. Hey guys, I'm Kate Max. You might know me from my popular online series,

The Running Interview Show, where I run with celebrities, athletes, entrepreneurs, and more. After those runs, the conversations keep going. That's what my podcast, Post Run High, is all about. It's a chance to sit down with my guests and dive even deeper into their stories, their journeys, and the thoughts that arise once we've hit the pavement together. You know that rush of endorphins you feel after a great workout? Well, that's when the real magic happens. So if you love hearing real, That's when the real magic happens. So if you love hearing real, inspiring stories from the people you know, follow, and admire,

join me every week for Post Run High. It's where we take the conversation beyond the run and get into the heart of it all. It's lighthearted, pretty crazy, and very fun. Listen to Post Run High on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. to the destruction of Google search, better offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry veteran with nothing to lose. This season, I'm going to be joined by everyone from Nobel-winning economists to leading journalists in the field,

and I'll be digging into why the products you love keep getting worse and naming and shaming those responsible. Don't get me wrong, though. I love technology. I just hate the people in charge and want them to get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to God things can change if we're loud enough. So join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com.

I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly. I am talking to a felon right now, and I cannot decide if I like him or not. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take real phone calls from anonymous strangers all over the world

as a fake gecko therapist and try to dig into their brains and learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's pretty interesting if you give it a shot. Matter of fact, here's a few more examples of the kinds of calls we get on this show. I live with my boyfriend and I found his piss jar in our apartment. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. I have very overbearing parents. Even at the age of 29, they won't let me move out of their house. So if you want an excuse to get out of your own head and see what's going on in someone else's head, search for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

It's the one with the green guy on it. Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. I'm Thomas and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands, for those who find themselves seeking solace, wisdom, and refuge between

the chapters. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works while uncovering the stories of the brilliant writers behind them. Blacklit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers and to bring their words to life. Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. The 2025 iHeart Podcast Awards are coming. This is the chance to nominate your podcast for the industry's biggest award. Submit your podcast for nomination now at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. But hurry, submissions close on December 8th. Hey,

you've been doing all that talking. It's time to get rewarded for it. Submit your podcast today at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. That's iHeart.com slash podcast awards. And we're back. So Shor gazed till he heard footsteps coming, then he turned to meet them. And Svend and his brethren sat silent in the council chamber, till they heard a great noise and clamor of the people arise through all the streets,

and then they rose to see what it might be. Meanwhile on the low marble tomb under the dim sweeping vault sat, or rather lay, the king, for though his right arm still lay over her breast, his head had fallen forward and rested now on the shoulder of the marble queen. There he lay, with strange confusion of his scarlet, gold-wrought robes, silent, motionless, and dead. The seven brethren stood together on the marble terrace of the royal palace that was dotted about on the bluster of it with white statues. They were helmeted and armed to the teeth. Only over their armor, great black cloaks were thrown. Now the whole great terrace was a sway with the crowd of nobles and princes and others that were neither nobles or princes, but true men only. And these were

helmeted and wrapped in black cloaks, even as the princes were, only the crests of the prince's helms were wrought wonderfully with that bird, the phoenix, all flaming with new power, dying because its old body was not strong enough for its newfound power. And those on that terrace who were unarmed had anxious faces, some fearful, some stormy, with devil's rage at disappointment. But among the faces of those helmed ones, though, here and there you might see a pale face, and there was no fear or rage, scarcely even anxiety, but calm, brave joy seemed to be on all. Above the heads of all men on that terrace shone out Sven's brave face,

the golden hair flowing out from his helmet, a smile of quiet confidence overflowing from his mighty heart in the depths of which it was dwelling, just showed very little on his eyes and lips. While all the vast square and all the windows and roofs and even of houses over against the palace were alive with an innumerable sea of trouble-raging faces, showing white, upturned under the undersea,

their many-colored raiment, the murmur from them was like a sow of the first tempest wind among the pines. And the gleam of spears here and there was like the last gleams of the sun through the woods when the black thunderclouds come up over all and soon to be shown through those woods by the gleam of deep lightning. Also sometimes the murmur would swell, and from the heart of it would come a fierce, hoarse, tearing, shatteringattering roar strangely discordant of war war

give us war oh king then sven stepping forward his arms hidden under his long cloak as they hung down quietly the smile on his face broadening somewhat sent from his chest a mighty, effortless voice over all the raging. Hear, O ye people, war with all that is ugly and base, peace with all that is fair and good, no war with my brother's people. Just then, one of those unhelmeted, creeping roundabouts stealthily to the place where Svend stood, lifted his arm and smote at him with a dagger, whereupon Svend, clearing his right arm from his cloak with his left, lifted up his glittering right hand, and the traitor fell to the earth groaning with a broken jaw, for Svend had smitten him on the mouth a backward blow with his open hand. One shouted from the crowd, I, murderer Svend, slay our good nobles as you

poisoned the king, your father, that you and your false brethren might oppress us with the memory of that devil's witch, your mother. The smile left Sven's face and heart now. He looked very stern as he said, Here, oh ye people, in years past when I was a boy, my dream of dreams was ever this. How should I make you good? And because good, happy, when I should become king over you. But as year by year passed, I saw my dream flitting, the deep colors of it changed, faded, grew gray in the late light of coming manhood. Nevertheless, God be my witness

that I have ever striven to make you just and true, hoping against hope continually. And I have ever determined to bear everything and stay with you, even though you should remain unjust and liars, for the sake of the few who really love me. But now, seeing that God has made you mad and that his vengeance will speedily fall, take heed how you cast out from you all that is good and true-hearted. Once more, which choose you, peace or war? Between the good and the base, in the midst of the passionate faces and changing colors, stood the great terrace, cold and calm and white, with its changeless statues, and for a while there was silence. Broken through at last by a yell and a sharp whir of arrows and the cling clang from the armor of the terrace as

Prince Harold staggered through unhurt, struck by the broad point on the helmet. What war? shouted Zvend wrathfully, and his voice sounded like a clap of thunder following the lightning flash when a tower is struck. What war? Swords for Zvend? Round about the king, good men and true. Sons of the golden hair, show these men war. And as he spoke, he let his black cloak fall, and up from their sheath sprang seven swords, steel from pommel to point only. On the blades of them, in fantastic letters of gold, shone the word Westward. Then all the terrorists gleamed with steel, and amid the hurling of stones and whiz of arrows, they began to go westward. The streets ran with blood, the air was filled with groans and curses.

The low waves nearest the granite pier were edged with blood, because they first caught the drippings of the blood. And those on the pier who durst stay on the pier saw the ships of Sven's little fleet leaving one by one, for he had taken aboard those ten ships whoever had prayed to go, even in the last moment, wounded or dying even, better so, for in their last moments came thoughts of good things to many of them, and it was good to be among the true. But those haughty ones left behind, sullen and untamed, but with horrible, indefinable dread on them, what was worse than death or mere pain, howsoever fierce, these saw all the ships go out of the harbor merrily with the swaying sail and

dashing oar, and with joyous singing of those aboard. And Svens was the last of all. Whom they saw kneel down on the deck unhelmed then all sheathed their swords that were about him and the prince Robert took from Sven's hand an iron crown fantastically wrought and placed it on his head and he knelt and he continued kneeling still till as the ship drew further and further away from the harbor

all things aboard her became indistinct and they never saw Sven and his brethren again. further and further away from the harbor. All things aboard her became indistinct. And they never saw Svend and his brethren again. Here ends what William the Englishman wrote, but afterwards, in the nighttime, he found the book of a certain chronicler, which saith, In the springtime, in May,

the 550th year from the death of Svend, the wonderful king, the good knights, sailing due eastward, came to the harbor of a land they knew not, wherein they saw many goodly ships, but of a strange fashion like the ships of the ancients, and destitute of any mariners. Besides, they saw no beacons for the guidance of seamen, nor was there any sound of bells or singing, though the city was vast with many goodly towers and palaces. So when they landed, they found that which is hardly to be believed, but which is nevertheless true. For about the quays and about the streets lay many people dead, or stood, but quite without motion.

For they were all white or about the color of new-hewn freestone. Yet were they not statues, but real men, for they had some of them ghastly wounds which showed their entrails, and the structure of their flesh, and veins, and bones. Moreover the streets were red and wet with blood, and the harbor waves were red with it, because it dipped in great drops slowly from the quays. Then, when the good knights saw this, they doubted not but that it was a fearful punishment on this people for sins of theirs. Thereupon they entered into a church of that great city and prayed God to pardon them. Afterwards, going back to their ships,

sailed away marveling. And I, John, who wrote this story, saw all this with mine own eyes. And that's the story. I like this story so much, I even like it better the second time I read it, right? Because there's a kind of lot going on that I didn't necessarily catch the first time. But it's so interesting to me, okay, for a lot going on that I didn't necessarily catch the first time, but it's so interesting to me. Okay. For a lot of reasons. One, I can see the inspiration on Tolkien really clearly in this, right? Cause you have this kind of like good noble King thing going on, but you also have like an evil King or like a King who thinks he's good, but he actually sucks like the first King,

you know? And, uh, and he's like, Oh, I love my wife. And she's like, I'm not into you. I wish I was still dating that fucking Smith, you know? Um, and it's so tragic when he's like, oh, I love my wife. And she's like, I'm not into you. I wish I was still dating that fucking Smith, you know? And it's so tragic when he's like, I'm going to just lay down and die here upon the statue of my dead wife. And she's like, I don't even like you, you know? I married you as like, I gave up my life to marry you in order to keep my people like free and happy.

And, you know, and you still got these like okay and then the seven brothers are like all good and true and that's like very fucking like english like whatever you know but what's so interesting then is this like but then the nobles who are all gathered up around are like no we want war we just want to like fuck each other up right that's just like man can't wait to fuck each other up you know and so they're like all right we're gonna get out of here like we're good and noble and true and so we're just gonna leave and they're going to basically iceland right it's like always a little sketchy when people are like westward right you know when they're english because um well i'm recording this from a colony that is the result of that you know but i'm almost certain that they're talking about iceland

because they refer to it as an island they refer to as uninhabited and also like specifically I know William Morris was like into Iceland and you've got this whole like kind of Viking-ish vibe right they're all like names Vend and Shur and stuff you know so I think they all like basically fuck off to Iceland and then they come back and then violence has trapped them into this perfect stillness, you know, that's like ever changing and their wounds are always there and the blood keeps dripping forever. It's so cool. Thank you all for listening to this story. If you want to hear me read stories, if you want to hear me read stories, you can do so by continuing to listen to this podcast, or I read about history on my podcast, Cool People Did Cool Stuff, or you can come and see me talk, because I'm on tour right now,

unless it's the future, in which, maybe. But as you listen to this, I might be in Portland, Maine, or in Rockland, somewhere rural Maine, I don't know. Look up boxcar books. That's where I'm going to be the day this comes out. But I'm on tour. I am reading stories. I'm reading folktales set in the world of The Sapling Cage, which is my new novel, that you might like. I hope you like it.

I also hope that you're doing well. and that you don't like take like, like, like, I'm not like, oh, this story has like all the right morals or whatever. Like, no, fuck that. Right. But instead it's just, it's just interesting. And like, am I wrong? Is this not the precursor to those who walk away from Omelas? Because you're describing this like perfect, beautiful city, but that has like a dark secret. And I really like, you can tell that this man ended up like, he's kind of also seen sometimes as like the first eco-socialist, right? He loves nature and he also loves craft stuff, right? And he's like, actually crafts and nature like go hand in hand. And it's shown in both of the stories I've read by him so far. But I love that they're

describing being like, oh, look at this beautiful thing where they're taming everything by way of using smartness to make lies and laying waste to valleys and everyone lives as serfs and it sucks. Like, it's so good. Like, this guy, he wasn't even like a socialist yet when he wrote this, but you can see where he's going to end up. It's also interesting because he ended up an atheist, right? But this story is like totally God focused, right? Like, but that's just like, I mean, it's the style of the time and it's the way people were thinking about things in that context. Anyway, I already did my plugs and here I am talking about the story again. So I'll just be done and I'll talk to you next week. Bye.

It Could Happen Here is a production of Cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from Cool Zone Media, visit our website, coolzonemedia.com, or check us out on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. You can find sources for my popular online series, The Running Interview Show, where I run with celebrities, athletes, entrepreneurs, and more. After those runs, the conversations keep going. That's what my podcast, Post Run High, is all about. It's a chance to sit down with my guests and dive even deeper into their stories, their journeys, and the thoughts that arise once we've hit the pavement together. Listen to Post Run High on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline Podcast, and we're kicking off our

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But hurry, submissions close on December 8th. Hey, you've been doing all that talking. It's time to get rewarded for it. Submit your podcast today at iHeart.com slash podcast awards. That's iHeart.com slash podcast awards. Welcome to Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get real and dive straight into todo lo actual y viral. We're talking music, los premios, el chisme, and all things trending in my cultura.

I'm bringing you all the latest happening in our entertainment world and some fun and impactful interviews with your favorite Latin artists, comedians, actors, and influencers. Each week, we get deep and raw life stories, combos on the issues that matter to us, and it's all packed with gems, fun, straight-up comedia,

and that's a song that only nuestra gente can sprinkle. Listen to Gracias Come Again on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, I'm Jacqueline Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit. The podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while running errands or at the end of a busy day. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry,

we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Listen to Black Lit on the Black Effect Podcast Network, iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. AT&T., connecting changes everything.