By Lady Erelain Jagaad
I was called prudish once. Think me not an old, highborn lady of strict morals and upbringing, for I am in fact only nineteen years old, often called beautiful, and my family, the Jagaads, have long been known for our explorations into the cultures of other provinces. Think of me as well-versed in literature and culture, knowledgeable of history and politics, and even as an artist of sorts, for I play the harp and wield, in honor of Queen Lillian’s Renaissance, the rapier and dagger with a high degree of proficiency.
Why, then, did a man call me prudish? Simply because I discarded his advances with naught but a glance, or because after he became more aggressive, I halted him with a withering glance which clearly said -- “I am more than you. Back down.”? More likely it was the brief discussion afterward, during which he heard from my tongue how despicable and ignoble was his behavior.
It all began with the Renaissance. A stripping away of old ideas, and the formation of new. The crumbling of class distinctions, the elevation of the common man to a place where he might, if he possesses the skills, achieve wealth, fame, or power. The destruction of the former King Goddard’s morality.
The question that comes to me, is where are we heading? The Renaissance is underway, but where is it leading us?
Some of my friends are quick to point out the positive aspects of the movement. Take, for instance, the openness of speech. Anyone who desires can now speak or publish their ideas at will, without fear of prosecution by authorities. I can even, if I desire, (and as evidenced by the recent speeches of the True Nobles on the streets of Aranor) speak out against the Queen or her policies! The reasoning behind this is that such open communication will create an atmosphere of new ideas and thought.
Then there is the bold blending of cultures. In Aranor one can sample the wares, art forms, or cuisines of any province, allowing us to better understand ways which are not our own.
The learning. Knowledge is being spread to anyone who wishes it. Libraries are now open to the public, and Illumination, a private enterprise, publishes small treatises every passage which are sold for very nominal prices at their shoppes in Aranor, Selarum, and Jalpa. These treatises serve to spread information on all manner of realms of knowledge, and indeed, it is Illumination who is publishing my words even now. With the abundance of knowledge, everyday conversations turn more toward philosophy and culture rather than everyday mundania.
And then the loosening of morals. We nobility are still held to high standards, for our family’s name will be naught but an object of laughter if we are caught in unscrupulous activities. But overall, we have seen a relaxing in the manner of dressing, in sexual mores, in principles of free trade, in looseness of the tongue. The idea here is that individuality will be promoted, and from individuality will emerge creative new ways of living life, enriching us all.
What of the abolishment of laws? While there were official law books during the Goddard rule, those have been relinquished in favor of ‘guidelines’, known only to the guards of a city, which people are encouraged to follow. These guidelines are largely based on common sense, and breaches of the guidelines (they still call them laws, but they are not written in the manner of laws) are handled each as a single case, accounting for individual circumstances and rationale. In older times, a breach of law was a breach of law, no matter what the reasoning behind the act.
Lastly, we mustn’t forget the advent of free magical practice. The Goddard family line has long restricted the practice of the arcane arts so that magic was available only to the wealthy, and the lack of numerous competing practitioners set the development of new magical theory and systems back centuries.
All of these elements are supposed to combine to create a fertile growth of creativity and new ideas, so that we can all live richer, more abundant lives, and no one, lest it be their will, must live a life of drudgery. And I’m the first to acknowledge that the Renaissance has brought a new bounty upon us, for I have supped on the most exotic of fare without traveling more than an hour from my home, I have enjoyed the most delightful of theater presentations, and have seen people rise from dejected poverty to the status of wealthy merchant. And I’ve found that many commoners have done the same, and I have been lucky enough to hold conversations with many of these commoners whose manners and education would rival that of the highest-born of yesteryear.
Why, then, you may ask, am I known as one of the most outspoken opponents of the Renaissance? Let me speak to you of its dangers, as I see them.
First, if you recall, I mentioned the new freedoms of speech. A society is held together by common ideals. With opponents of the Queen, cults tempting our youth, and eccentrics expounding meaningless but seductive ideals, all free to voice their opinions, we dwell in dangerous times, for those common ideals will surely soon erode. Why, I could most likely stand upon a box and slander the Queen with lies, all of which would soon be brewing throughout the city, if I so desired. How can she defend her reputation if lies can be freely passed? We need restrictions upon what can be said in public, and need to closely monitor what words are spoken, or soon speakers on the streets may pose a threat to the very fabric of what the Renaissance extols – freedom of expression. If the problem becomes too great, soon all speeches may need be banned, and what then will happen to our new freedoms of the spoken or written word?
What of the blending of cultures? Surely no harm in that? If you recall, I mentioned that my family was a proponent of exploring other cultures, and I myself have traveled to Moraithe, Masalla, and Jedda Felsuin, and enjoyed the experience of seeing other ways of life. The problem here lies in the fact that if you experience something Jeddan in Aranor, you’re not experiencing Jedda at all. In fact, you’re simply experiencing an Aranorian interpretation of Jeddan culture. Though natives of the represented cultures may certainly be present, they cannot keep their culture pure in another land, just as ours loses its purity if we take it overseas. For one thing, those natives must speak in our language, and adapt their foods to our tastes, and use our system of currency. . . do you see what I intend here? The people of Aranor are becoming filled with false knowledge, fancying themselves well-versed in one culture or another, when all they really know is the culture of Aranor. When one of those people actually travels to, say, Jedda Felsuin, claiming to be an expert on the culture, what impression will those of Jedda receive of Aranorians? That we are a high-horsed, ignorant group of people who are good mostly as the fodder for jokes.
Next is the learning. This, along with various other factors, is quick leading to the complete disintegration of the social class system. And do not fall to the folly of thinking that those systems exist only for the benefit of the wealthy. Without social classes, we’d all be in for a lesson in, among other things, starvation. Tell me how many peasants will want to go on peasanting after they’ve been exposed to the higher learnings? When they suddenly know all about the existence of other cultures, about the treasure that can be gained by adventuring, about how a few thousand well-placed silver coins can assure a wealthy future? Peasanting, no matter how much we romance it, is dirty, sweaty, tiresome work, and peasants do it, in part, because their family always has done it, and because that is what they are – peasants. But without class distinction, that feeling of being a peasant is gone, and it is becomes apparent that being a peasant is a profession, not a destiny. With that as the truth, who wants to be one? Oh, people will still become 'play-peasants', as many people have now done within the city, keeping a few horses and cropping a small field or two. Perhaps growing melons, or berries. But how much do these people actually contribute to our food stores? Plenty little. Indeed, many of them grow enough for themselves and perhaps gather a wagon or two to sell – they make the rest of their gold through other work or arts, but call themselves peasants. But any large city, Aranor included, requires vast amounts of crops, cereals, and meat in order to feed its population. As we lose the true peasant to the higher classes, what will we eat? The problem is even worse for those down in the fishing village. What child of the fisherfolk will want to spend all day gutting fish when they could get a job at a nice restaurant, earn lots of gold, and wander in their free time through the vast halls of the library of Aranor? It seems to me that ignorance, if restricted to certain classes, is a necessary quality.
As for the loosening of morals, I’m not sure how much needs to be said. We’ve already seen the rise of the use of drugs, the rampant and obvious presence of twylahs, and an increase of thievery, especially in the aptly named Thieves District. Why does this district exist? The common argument is that there will always be those whose luck is down, who fall to dark ways, and that it is better to keep them isolated within a certain part of the city, where they can be watched, rather than to have them walking among us. But the rumors say that there are places in the Thieves District where even the guards don’t go. Have we so lost rein of them that they now command certain sections of the city as their own? Legend or not, the seeds of such lifestyles can even be seen in our commoners, who make up the majority of the city’s population. Once the sons and daughters of artisans, small shoppe owners, or city workers, the commoners now want more out of life, but aren’t sure where to find it. It’s common practice among them to use drugs such as honey, to experiment sexually, often with more than one lover, and to engage in all manner of questionable gold-making schemes. A few of those commoners are going to make something great of themselves, but what about the rest? I see the Thieves District growing larger over the next generation, and getting even more out of hand. Morals are here for a reason, for they keep us reasonable. We used to all dress in proper cover and attire, but now I see girls in skirts and cropped tops, and men with shorts and vests, or no shirt at all! Fashions inspired by Moraithe and the gypsies. I know all too well that it gets hot in the summer moons, but a well-made dress and wide-brimmed hat do more to cool than a barely-there top and translucent gypsy skirt. With such displays of flesh, is it any wonder that our sexual mores are disintegrating, with the result that we’ll soon have abundant children born to parents who have no morals to pass down?
I’ve actually approached the guards about the abolished law issue. It is well and good to give individual attention to certain cases, but consider the power we’ve vested the guard with. With no law-books or written sentencing, the only ‘official’ fact is that any guard can decide if you are offending the public, and recommend whatever punishment they see fit! Not good news if you’ve offended a guardsman. Although Goddard’s laws were strict and unfairly applied, at least one had recourse to appeal to the official, recorded rule. Now it is simply our opinion against that of the guard, and for many peoples of lower society, it can easily be imagined that a guard might abuse their considerable power. In fact, I have heard of a documented case where a woman who lives in the Thieves District was threatened with a variety of unpleasantries if she didn’t take a guardsman into her bed. We need laws, and we need clear, concise ones that can be fairly applied under Queen Lillian’s just rule. Furthermore, we need pre-dictated punishments for each given crime, for to leave the application of punishment to the whims of the guards is to invite unfair treatment.
Lastly there is the issue of magic. Are we all so ignorant of history that we can’t look back even five years, to the fall of Antara? Did we not see all too clearly what happens when magic is abused? Besides the name of Queen Lillian, the most recognized name today is that of a mage – Cowan Faol. And Queen Lillian herself is a practitioner of highest potency. There are no laws governing the personal practice of magic, so we have numerous homes within the city walls where ungoverned magic is being practiced every night. Who knows what powers are being unleashed in our midst? Indeed, a visit to an unnamed bookstore within the city will show you ample displays of tomes outlining the summoning of demons, the invoking of elemental forces, or the awakening of old gods. Tomes which, during the rule of the Goddards, were judiciously hidden away or destroyed. Can we seriously hope to have any measure of security with magic being so freely practiced? It is a known magical phenomenon that too much magic, practiced in a contained area (such as a city), will eventually gain a power of its own and overwhelm its users. The only rule we have regarding magic (or should I call it “guideline”?) is that there are to be “no gratuitous public displays of magic”. Every guard I asked said that if I choose to practice magic in my home, I have every right to do so. Not long, then, before Aranor meets the same fate as Antara.
Queen Lillian’s Renaissance has borne the seeds of its own destruction. And of our own. Her ideals are grand, and with some re-working of her methods, there is a distinct possibility that they might, indeed, bring beauty to the world. But what we need is a council, gathered from diverse elements within the city, where issues such as those I have briefly outlined above can be intelligently discussed. Queen Lillian may be charismatic, but she is only one mind. And more than that is needed to guide the growth of a province. Only when we moderate and bring some sense into our actions will we see a true blooming of the new ideals. And I, for one, hope that those new ideals soar.