By Dwight Swanson

After Whirlwind Rachel

J R R Tolkien noted, somewhere in his essay On Faery Stories (an article that people who want to produce films of Tolkien’s works should read before filming), that happy stories are soon told. He proved it to himself (at least) when he tried to start writing a continuation of The Lord of the Rings story. His attempt, titled ‘The New Shadow’, picks up some 105 years after the downfall of Sauron, with a new Evil already rising, but disappears down a dark path after just a few pages (see The Peoples of Middle-Earth, Volume 12 of ‘The History of Middle Earth’ edited by Christopher Tolkien). Happiness cannot last long, according to Tolkien’s Augustinian anthropology, and there is not much to tell about it beyond the most unrealistic ‘They lived happily ever after’.

I note this simply to mention to readers that the main reason little has appeared here recently is due to this factor: happy stories are soon told. (Which makes a pleasant change from depression as a cause…)

The happy story? My youngest, my daughter, has married. The day was wholly a joy, from the last minute crises of the morning before the ceremony, to the intimate service, to the last dance by the radiant bride.

And it brought together our children and grandchildren for ten days. As a Trans-Atlantic grandfather, it is difficult to find a joy greater than that of having a 3 year-old throw her arms around his legs, saying ‘Gra-a-and-pa!’; and having her say ‘Tighter’ as we hugged each other good-bye. And, we all sat together evenings, talking around the dinner table (usually the garden round-table, no matter the weather), simply enjoying being together.

And the Groom? He sang a love-song to his bride for his after-dinner speech. He sang of his love for my daughter. I have no doubt of it.

There is no ‘happily ever after’ in real life, if that means life without sorrow or difficulties. But, having just marked 36 years of marriage—going on 40 years of friendship—I can confirm that the deepening of love through difficulties and sorrow does mean there is long-lasting joy in committed love to one person.

May you have ‘joy-ever-after’, my young lovers!

By Dwight Swanson

The first news reports showed Georgian rocket launchers outside the South Ossetia town of Tskhinvali, aiming into the ostensible capital of the region. The Gazelle Editor has to depend, like the rest of the world, on what the media publish or broadcast; but this was the BBC, which has maintained the most balanced reporting of the major Western network suppliers of news. The reports appeared alongside those of the opening of the Olympics, where the world watched George W (‘W’hat will you do when the phone rings at 3 am) Bush have a little chat with Vladimir S (‘S’o much for Georgia) Putin that obviously resolved matters. At least, ‘W’ must have thought so, because he stayed on to pat the back sides of some American swimmers (so it seems)

It was only the next day that scenes of Russian advances into South Ossetia were seen, followed by scenes of their advances into Georgia, smoke rising over the town of Gori.

Smoke rising over civilian populations is never a reassuring sight.



It was only at this point of the reporting that the Georgian president introduced the explanation that he was responding to a Russian advance. Something seemed a little fishy about this to the Editor. (more)