#gods of pegana
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The Gods of Pegana, see how many you can name! ( Free to read online )
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Once, as Mung went his way athwart the Earth and up and down its cities and across its plains, Mung came upon a man who was afraid when Mung said: "I am Mung!"
And Mung said: "Were the forty million years before thy coming intolerable to thee?"
And Mung said: "Not less tolerable to thee shall be the forty million years to come!"
Then Mung made against him the sign of Mung and the Life of the Man was fettered no longer with hands and feet.
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Yep I draw in various forms so anyone can doubt that Iâm the artistic avatar of Nyarlathotep
#nephren klamm#artists on tumblr#nephrenklamm#original character#eldritch#oc#the gods of pegana#cthulhu#cthulhu mythos#lineart#aztec#aztec gods#aztec mythology#huitzilopochtli#mictlantecuhtli#tezcatlipoca#yog sothoth#nephrora#nyarlathotep
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Sidney Sime illustration of the god Slid (1905) for Lord Dunsany's The Gods of Pegana (link)
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Fun thing, if you want an exotic pantheon/mythology you can freely draw from without doing a cultural appropriation, I feel I should point out that Lord Dunsany's "Gods Of Pegana" is very much public domain and really, really cool...
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Review: "The Gods of Pegana" by Lord Dunsany -
Fascinating and sometimes beautifully written fictional mythology to little narrative purpose or storytelling. More similar to sketches for a larger idea that was never attempted. Why read them but for curiosity?
#bookworm#literature#book reviews#read read read#books#lord dunsany#the gods of pegana#fantasy#mythology#fantasy history#Youtube
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Kib art by @berlynn-wohl
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Pterry was quite clearly a fan of Lord Dunsany's Gods of PegÄna. (The bits in several early books where he talks about Fate and Chance governing human lives by rolling dice or the like? Yeah, that's totally a PegÄna bit.)
Dunsany was aggressively not religious. There's a whole lot of piss-take in Gods of PegÄna, disguised behind genuinely lovely prose.
I think Pterry might have pulled the particular schtick discussed in the original post from the Sayings of Kib. Kib is the god of life, and his mental age is about four, and he's trying very hard to be portentous and weighty as gods are supposed to be, and he just...
... fails at it.
Project Gutenberg and Wikisource have The Gods of PegÄna in full. Mung is my favorite death god of all time. He takes zero shit.
One of my favorite Discworld tropes is normal (ish) prose written in the style of religious texts, because I don't know*. Definitely I love it when writing mixes it up a bit, yay for not sticking to the usual sentence/paragraph structure all the time. I remember being gobsmacked as a kid when I read, I think, one of the Hitchhiker's books and there was a chapter that consisted of a single word, like whoa, you can do that??
Anyway, there's way too much pseudo-biblespeak in Small Gods to make a comprehensive list, but here are some of my favorites:
Yea, the Great God Om spake again unto Brutha, the Chosen One: "Psst!" -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
Once more the Great God Om spake unto Brutha, the Chosen One: "Are you deaf, boy?" -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
He cursed a melon unto the eighth generation, but nothing happened. He tried a plague of boils. The melon just sat there, ripening slightly. -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
"This is good lettuce. And it's me saying it. You don't get lettuce up in the hills. A bit of plantain, a thorn bush or two. Let there be another leaf." Brutha pulled one off the nearest plant. And lo, he thought, there was another leaf. -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
He had smitten good and hard in his time. Now he could just about walk through water and feed the One. -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
VIII. It's Got A Good Ring To It. Hurry Up, I've Got Some Smiting To Do. -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
XV. I Could Destroy You Utterly. "Yes. I am entirely in your power." XVI. I Could Crush You Like An Egg! "Yes." Om paused. Then he said: XVII. You Can't Use Weakness As A Weapon. "It's the only one I've got." -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
VI. This Is Religion, Boy! Not Comparison Bloody Shopping! You Shall Not Subject Your God To Market Forces! -- Terry Pratchett, Small Gods
*Mainly, of course, because it's funny. It's funny up to and including the point where you start thinking about how, in reality, pretty much all religious books probably came about kind of like this, recorded by random people who maybe didn't have the entire context, and included irrelevant bits, and took the whole thing way too seriously.
And then they're passed down through the ages and people make an entire way of life out of them, how can you not laugh.
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The Gods of Pegana Favorite Quotes
âFate and Chance cast lots to decide whose the Game should beâ
âwhether it was Fate or whether Chance that went through the mists before THE BEGINNING to MANA-YOOD-SUSHAIânone
knowethâ
âThere are in Pegana Mung and Sish and Kib, and the maker of all small gods, who is MANA-YOOD-SUSHAIâ
ânone may pray to MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI but only the gods whom hehath madeâ
âAnd the gods and the worlds shall depart, and there shall be only MANA-YOOD-SUSHAIâ
âSkarl made a drum, and began to beat upon it that he might drum for everâ
âthere was silence on Pegana save for the drumming of Skarlâ
âthere he beateth his drum. Some say that the Worlds and the Suns are but the echoes of the drumming of Skarlâ
âfor who hath heard the voice of MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI, or who hath seen his drummer?â
âSkarl still beateth his drum, for the purposes of the gods are not yet fulfilledâ
âthe worlds go on, for if he cease for an instant then MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI will start awake, and there will be worlds nor gods no moreâ
âThen shall Skarl put his drum upon his back and walk forth into the voidâ
âbut to Skarl it shall matter not, for he shall have done the work of Skarlâ
âspeaking with Their hands lest the silence of Pegana should blushâ
âLet Us make worlds and Life and Death, and colours in the skyâ
âThen said the gods: âLet Us make one to seekâ
âThey made by the lifting of Their hands, each god according to his sign, the Bright Oneâ
âLet there be now a Watcher to regard.â
And They made the Moon, with his face wrinkled with many mountainsâ
âAnd They made the Star of the Abidingâ
âknow that somewhere among the Worlds is restâ
âAnd They made Earth to wonder, each god by the uplifting of his hand according to his sign.
And Earth was.â
âThe Moon regarded, and the Bright One sought, and returned again to his seekingâ
âEarth became covered with beasts for Kib to play with.
And Kib played with beasts.â
âIf Kib has thus made beasts he will in time make Men, and will endanger the Secret of the gods.â
âMung was jealous of the work of Kib, and sent down Death among the beasts, but could not stamp them outâ
âA million years passed over the second gameâ
âmaking the sign of Kib, and made Men: out of beasts he made them, and Earth was covered with Menâ
âthe gods feared greatly for the Secret of the gods, and set a veil between Man and his ignorance that he might not understandâ
âBut when the other gods saw Kib playing his new game They came and played it tooâ
âThey shall be ashamed of Their playing in the hour of the laughterâ
âAnd all the other gods were angry with Kib that he had spoken with his mouth.â
âAnd there was no longer silence in Pegana or the Worlds.â
âThere came the voice of the gods singing the chauntâ
âBecause this is written, believe! For is it not written, or are you greater than Kib?â
â(The Destroyer of Hours)
Time is the hound of Sish.â
âAt Sishâs bidding do the hours run before him as he goeth upon his wayâ
âpleasant are all things before the face of Sish, but behind him they are withered and oldâ
âAnd Wornath-Mavai was a garden fairer than all the gardens upon Earthâ
âon the slopes of it Sish rested among the flowers when Sish was youngâ
âAnd Time, which is the hound of Sish, devoured all things; and Sish sent up the ivyâ
âOnly the valley where Sish rested when he and Time were young did Sish not provoke his hours to assailâ
âstill the flowers grow about its slopes as they grew when the gods were youngâ
âbutterflies live in Wornath-Mavai still. For the minds of the gods relent towards their earliest memoriesâ
âif thou shouldst ever find it thou art then more fortunate than the gods, because they walk not in Wornath-Mavai nowâ
âOnce did the prophet think that he discerned it in the distanceâ
âTime is the hound of the gods; but it hath been said of old that he will one day turn upon his masters, and seek to slay the godsâ
âexcepting only MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI, whose dreams are the gods themselvesâdreamed long agoâ
âwho shall trouble MANA with mortal woes or irk him with the sorrows of all the houses of Earth?â
âwhat glory shall he find in sacrifices or altars who hath made the gods themselves?â
âYet what mercy should the small gods have, who themselves made Death and Pain; or shall they restrain their old hound Time for thee?â
âand it may be that Slid will not forget to send thee Death when most thou needest it.â
âAnd the People of Earth said: âThere is a melody upon the Earth as though ten thousand streams all sang together.â
âbe a happier god than Those who sway the Worlds, whose work is Life and Deathâ
âthe miser lord of wealth in gems and pearls beyond the telling of all fablesâ
âSlid is in many places, for he sitteth in high Peganaâ
âto be always with Slid in all the moods of Slid, to find no rest until he reaches the seaâ
âover whose bones doth Slid lament with the voice of a god lamenting for his peopleâ
âhave heard Slidâs far-off cry, and all together have forsaken lawns and trees to followâ
âMung said: âWere the forty million years before thy coming intolerable to thee?â
âThen Mung made against him the sign of Mung and the Life of the Man was fettered no longerâ
âlittle before night meeteth with the morningâ
âwhen Mung said: âI am Mung!â the man cried out: âAlas, that I took this roadâ
âit may be that They will send thee again into the Worlds; and then thou mayest choose some other way, and not meet with Mung.â
âThen Mung made the sign of Mung. And the Life of that man went forth with yesterdayâs regretsâ
âMung said: âWhen at the sign of Mung thy Life shall float away there will also disappear thy sorrow at forsaking it.â
âtarry for a little, and make not the sign of Mung against me now, for I have a family upon the earth with whom sorrow will remainâ
âthe man beheld Mung making the sign of Mung before his eyes, which beheld things no moreâ
âSo shall they cry louder unto Mung than ever was their wont.
And it may be that Mung shall hear.â
âThis is the chaunt of the Priests.
The chaunt of the Priests of Mung.
This is the chaunt of the Priests.â
âwhile Death seems to thee as far away as the purple rim of hills; or sorrow as far off as rain in the blue days of summerâ
âGo out into the starry night, and Limpang-Tung will dance with thee who danced since the gods were youngâ
âgod of mirth and of melodious minstrelsâ
âfor he saith of sorrow: âIt may be very clever of the gods,â but he doth not understand.â
âbetween Pegana and the Earth flutter ten thousand thousand prayers that beat their wings against the face of Deathâ
ânever for one of them hath the hand of the Striker been stayed, nor yet have tarried the feet of the Relentless Oneâ
âUtter thy prayer! It may accomplish where failed ten thousand thousand.â
âwill I paint the Blue, that men may see and rejoice; and ere day falleth under into the night will I paint upon the Blue again, lest men be sad.â
âthis he hath sworn by the oath of the gods of Peganaâ
âswearing by the light behind Their eyesâ
âhere and there amid the peoples of earth one heareth, and straightaway all that hath voice to sing crieth aloud in music to his soulâ
âmirth and melody abound in that city of song, and no one seeth Limpang-Tung as he standeth behind the minstrelsâ
âhe must endure all night the laughter of the gods, with highest mockery, in Peganaâ
âthe fancies of Yoharneth-Lahai be true, none knoweth saving only MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI, who hath not spokenâ
âthere must Roonâs people go, and the worlds and their streams and the windsâ
âPitsu, who stroketh the cat; Hobith who calms the dogâ
âgods of Pegana, speaking to the gods, say: âThere is Kilooloogung doing the work on earth of Kilooloogung.â
âthese are gods so small that they be lesser than men, but pleasant gods to have beside the hearthâ
âAnd Kilooloogung, who is pleased that men should pray, stretches himself upâ
âA kindly god is Jabimâ
âTriboogie, the Lord of Dusk, whose children are the shadowsâ
âthen doth Triboogie send his children to run about the room and danceâ
âchildren are the bats, that have broken the command of their fatherâ
âthe wolf and the fox and the owl, and the great beasts and the small, lift up their voices to acclaimâ
âthree broad rivers of the plain, born before memory or fable, whose mothers are three grey peaks and whose father was the stormâ
âSegĂĄstrion sings old songs to shepherd boys, singing of his childhoodâ
âsay that they be mightier than Peganaâs gods, and play Their game with men.â
âbecause being home gods, though small, they were immortalâ
âclawing with miserly grasp at the bones of men and breathing hotâ
âAnd Umbool answered: âI am the beast of Mung.â
And Umbool came and crouched upon a hill.â
âthe lords of the rivers slunk away back again to their homes: still Umbool sat and grinnedâ
âEimĂ«s grew lean, and was forgotten, so that the men of the plain would say: âHere once was EimĂ«sâ
âIt is the foot of a man that has passed across my neck, and I have sought to be greater than the gods of Pegana.â
âsear the memory of Afrik into the brains of all who ever bring their bones awayâ
âAnd EimĂ«s, ZĂ€nĂ«s, and SegĂĄstrion sang again, and walked once moreâ
âplayed the game of Life and Death with fishes and frogs, but never essayed to play it any more with men, as do the gods of Peganaâ
âfelt a fear, for they have seen a look in the eyes of Dorozhand that regardeth beyond the godsâ
âLife is the instrument of Dorozhand wherewith he would achieve his endâ
âscarce more than ten million mortal years of the Worlds that ye have made.â
âarise from resting, because it is THE END, the Greater One, who rested of old time, even MANA-YOOD-SUSHAIâ
âcomes suddenly on dear, remembered thingsâ
âFor none shall know of MANA who hath rested for so long, whether he be a harsh or merciful god. It may be that he shall have mercy, and that these things shall be.â
âin the centre of the Desert of Deserts, standeth the image that hath been hewn of oldâ
âfound the secret of MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI, and knoweth the wherefore of the making of the godsâ
âbut who shall credit tales that camel drivers have heard from aged men in so remote a city?â
âbecause Yadin the prophet was doomed by the gods ere he was born to go in search of wisdom, he followed the caravans to Bodrahanâ
âin the evening, where the camels rest, when the wind of the day ebbs out into the desert sighingâ
âdown the wind his prayer went calling: âWhy do the gods endure, and play their gameâ
âit seemed happy to fly and pleasant to follow behind great white wingsâ
âblue rivers sang to them as they passedâ
âfar away the sea sang mighty dirges of old forsaken islesâ
âhe perceived that he was following no mortal birds but some strange messengers of Hoodrazai whose nest had lain in one of Peganaâs valesâ
âStill they went South till they passed below the South and came to the Rim of the Worldsâ
âneither howls nor breathes, only It turns over the leaves of a great book, black and white, black and white for ever until THE ENDâ
âthere is writing about thee and me until the page where our names no more are writtenâ
âThen did he utter his prayer in the fact of Trogool who only turns the pages and never answers prayerâ
âOnly turn back thy pages to the name of one which is writ no moreâ
âhis voice was like the murmurs of the waste at night when echoes have been lostâ
âThen because of words in the book that said that it should be so, Yadin found himself lying in the desertâ
âuntil he come to the words: Mai Doon Izahn, which means The End For Ever, and book and gods and worlds shall be no moreâ
âMan must endure the Days that Are, but the gods have left him his ignorance as a solaceâ
âSeek not to know. Thy seeking will weary thee, and thou wilt return much worn, to rest at last about the place from whence thou settest outâ
âSet not thy foot upon that path.
Seek not to know.
These be the Words of Yonath.â
âAnd Yug said: âI know all things.â And men were pleased.â
âThese be the affairs of Alhireth-Hotep.â And men brought gifts to him.â
âMung stepped from behind him, making the sign of Mung, saying: âKnowest thou All Things, then, Alhireth-Hotep?â
âAlhireth-Hotep became among the Things that Wereâ
âKabok grew wise in his own sight and in the sight of menâ
âit seemed most evil to Kabok that Mung should be treading in his gardenâ
âhe knew not what lay behind the back of Mung, which none had ever seenâ
âBut that night Mung trod again in the garden of Kabokâ
âstood before the window of the house like a shadow standing erect, so that Kabok knew indeed that it was Mungâ
âAnd Kabok lay and listened with horror at his heartâ
âKabok hoped, but looked with great dread for the coming of the third nightâ
âAnd Kabok fled out of his house as flees a hunted beast and flung himself before Mungâ
âAnd the fears of Kabok had rest from troubling Kabok any moreâ
âat last they found Yun-Ilara, who tended sheep and had no fear of Mungâ
âYun-Ilara builded a tower towards the sea that looked upon the setting of the Sun. And he called it the Tower of the Ending of Days.â
âcry his curses against Mung, crying: âO Mung! whose hand is against the Sun, whom men abhor but worship because they fear theeâ
âhere stands and speaks a man who fears thee not. Assassin lord of murder and dark things, abhorrent, merciless, make thou the sign of Mung against meâ
âuntil silence settles upon my lips, because of the sign of Mung, I will curse Mung to his face.â
âAnd the people in the street below would gaze up with wonderâ
âwhiteness over the hairs of Yun-Ilara, and ivy about his tower, and weariness over his limbs, for Mung passed by him stillâ
âwhen Sish became a god less durable to Yun-Ilara than ever Mung hath been he ceased at last to cryâ
âYun-Ilara cry out thus to Mung, crying: âO Mung! O loveliest of the gods!â
âthy gift of Death is the heritage of Man, with ease and rest and silence and returning to the Earth.â
ânow for the hour of the mourning of many, and the pleasant garlands of flowers and the tearsâ
âwhere never shall come the wind that now blows through my bonesâ
âThus prayed Yun-Ilara, who had cursed in his folly and youthâ
âStill from a heap of bones that are Yun-Ilara still, goes up a voice with the wind crying out for the mercy of Mung, if any such there beâ
âmay come on one of our lost prayers, that flutters like a butterfly tossed in stormâ
âAnd Arb-Rin-Hadith, who was the High Prophet, answered: âI pray for all the People.â
âNow, therefore, since They have not heard thee in four grim years, thou must go and carry to Their faces the prayerâ
âAnd Arb-Rin-Hadith went trembling to the godsâ
âThen said the people: âThou shalt go to MANA-YOOD-SUSHAIâ
âThou hast escaped the thunder of the gods, surely thou shalt also escape the stillness of MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI.â
âere the morning of the day that followed, such as rose early saw him in the silence, a speck against the blue, stretch up his armsâ
âwhere stood a temple to âAll the gods save Oneâ in which was no high priestâ
âupon the summit of the dome of the Hall of Night, but faintly writ, and in an unknown tongueâ
âwhere is writ The Secret of Things, but faintly, and in an unknown tongue.â
âAnd now thou knowest what all High Prophets know.â
And Imbaun answered: âI know.â
âAnd as I uttered the last of certain secret words I fell asleep in the temple, for I was weary, with my head against the altarâ
âthere entered Dorozhand by the temple door in the guise of a man, and touched me on the shoulder, and I awokeâ
âwhen I saw that his eyes shone blue and lit the whole of the temple I knew that he was a godâ
âspeaking no words but commanding with his eyesâ
âAnd the sum of their slaying was greater than the slaying of the pestilence of any of the evils of the gods.â
âI came at last to a time when men set their yoke no longer upon beasts but made them beasts of ironâ
âThen, because the slaying exceeded their desire, there came peace upon the worldâ
âAnd suddenly I beheld that THE END was near, for there was a stirring above Peganaâ
âI saw the hound Time crouch to spring, with his eyes upon the throats of the gods, and the drumming of Skarl grew faintâ
âled me back along the paths of Time that I might not see THE ENDâ
âa man should never behold it or know the doom of the gods. This They have hidden.â
âsuddenly the prophet was aware of an old man who bemoaned beside the river, crying: âAlas! alas!â
âI am Zodrak. Thousands of years ago I tended sheep upon a hill.â
ââAnd I, who was only a shepherd, how could I know?â
âI sent gold into the Worlds, and, alas! I sent with it poverty and strife. And I sent love into the Worlds, and with it grief.â
âI can never remedy what I have done, for the deeds of the gods are done, and nothing may undo them.â
âfrom having been happy became glad no moreâ
âI, who would make men happy, have made them sad, and I have spoiled the beautiful scheme of the godsâ
âI was only a shepherd, and how should I have known? Now I come to thee as thou restest by the river to ask of thee thy forgiveness.â
âO Lord of seven skies, whose children are the storms, shall a man forgive a god?â
âHe answered: âMen have sinned not against the gods as the gods have sinned against men.ââ
âthou art amongst the gods, what need hast thou for words from any man?â
âa look in Their eyes that saith: âThou wert a man.ââ
ââbecause thou biddest me, I, a man, forgive thee.â
âAnd he answered: âI was but a shepherd, and I could not know.â Then he was gone.â
âafter the passing of Eternity thou shouldst live again, thou wouldst say: âI closed mine eyes but for an instant.â
âHast thou bewailed the aeons that passed without thee, who art so much afraid of the aeons that shall pass?â
âthe people when they die shall come to Pegana, and there live with the gods, and there have pleasureâ
âeach under the god that he hath worshipped most when his lot was in the Worldsâ
âthere shall music beyond thy dreaming come drifting through the scent of all the orchardsâ
âthere shall be gardens that have always sunlight, and streams that are lost in no sea beneath skies for ever blueâ
âRoses shall shed their petals in showers at thy feetâ
âthat cheered thee in thy childhood about the gardens of thy youthâ
âthey shall take thee by the hand and whisper in thine ear till the old voices are forgotâ
âthe rose that clambered about the house where thou wast bornâ
âFar through Pegana a silvery fountain, lured upward by the gods from the Central Sea, shall fling its watersâ
âupon which sit the gods: âThine Enemies Are Forgiven.ââ
âShall not I say: âUpon The Morrow the gods shall speak with theeâ
âfor whom none may make strange signs before his eyes to quench his fearâ
âThe Prophet of the gods hath sold his happiness for wisdom, and hath given his hopes for the peopleâ
âOr when thou art angry by day regard the distant hills, and see the calm that doth adorn their faces. Shalt thou be angry while they stand so serene?â
âDo bullocks goad one another on whom the same yoke rests?â
âbe not angry with Dorozhand, for then thou beatest thy bare fingers against iron cliffs.â
âdrop by drop he turneth the common dew to every kind of gem. And he maketh a splendour in the hills.â
âSoon now the sun will set, and very softly come twinkling in the stillness all the stars.â
âShall he not again behold the gardens of his youth? Or does he set to end?â
âLord of the Hills, to the High Prophet of All the gods save One sends salutations.â
âthe prophet answered: âO King! thy people may not rejoice for ever, and some day the King will die.â
âThen guards led the prophet away.
And there arose prophets in Aradec who spake not of death to Kings.â
âthere standeth the âGreat Temple of One god Only.â
Therein is a dreaming prophet who doeth naught, and a drowsy priesthood about him.â
âfor surely he would hear the prayers of his own prophetâthen would there be Worlds no moreâ
âfor certain hidden reasons it were better for thee to go by the peaks and snowâ
âThere arises a river in Pegana that is neither a river of water nor yet a river of fireâ
âall the Worlds are sounds, the noises of moving, and the echoes of voices and song; but upon the River is no sound ever heard, for there all echoes dieâ
âUpon her deck were rowers with dream-made oars, and the rowers were the people of menâs fancies, and princes of old storyâ
âon every wind float up to Pegana the hopes and the fancies of the people which have no homeâ
âthere Yoharneth-Lahai weaves them into dreams, to take them to the people againâ
âgoing aboard it, among the dreams and the fancies of old times, lie down upon the deckâ
âpass from sleeping to the River, while Mung, behind them, makes the sign of Mung because they would have it soâ
âfar away and forgotten bleat the small sorrows that trouble all the Worldsâ
âsave certain things that may not be forgotten even beyond the Worldsâ
âtill they come where the River enters the Silent Sea, and shall there be gods of nothingâ
âFor at the last shall the thunder, fleeing to escape from the doom of the gods, roar horriblyâ
âthere with his trumpet voice acclaim THE ENDâ
âgo with dignity and quiet down to Their galleons of gold, and sail away down the River of Silence, not ever to returnâ
âshall fight out his last fight with the hound Time, his empty scabbard Sleep clattering loose beside himâ
âdays and nights that shall be lit by neither sun nor moonsâ
âas the galleons glide away, because the gods that made them are gods no moreâ
âThen shall MANA-YOOD-SUSHAI be all alone, with neither Death nor Timeâ
âBut far away from Pegana shall go the galleons of gold that bear the gods away, upon whose faces shall be utter calm, because They are the gods knowing that it is THE ENDâ
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Crazy thing that we don't like
#my art#visionary#character: kib#clumps#years ago was named âtoynbeeâ after the tiles and then âfarraâ from âfarrago.â âkibâ does not mean anything#Just another sound i got attached to. From âgods of peganaâ originally
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Lord Dunsany and the broken telephone of "fantasy"
So for my weekly post that nobody will care for, I'll again squeeze out some shit related to a topic I researched for the iceberg, but that doesnt really have anything to do with Soul Eater:
Lord Dunsany is often quted in some "deeplore" "well akshually" stuff to be the father of "modern fantasy", but did all the people who read him miss the point?
So I'll start by saying I wasnt ever into fantasy, it allways seemed kinda corny, only stuff I cared was LoTR cause I kinda grew up and around people were obssesed with it and DQ, cause of the DBZ bleed over and because I just like the slimes lol.
That may makes me disqualified about commenting, but eh, I dunno, I think my point will still stand, cause I will bring it back to Tolkien now:
Some people say he was inspired by Dunsanys "word building" to make his own overly convoluted mythology, but here lies my objection:
The two books I read of Dunsany about "the gods of Pegana" seem not really care about the "lore"
They seem to be written in the style as if they were some holy book, yet the names seem deliberately random and often the storys are either contradictory or mix up the details to make a point and to reflect that feeling of myths that arent organized by some obsessive nerd wiki for logical consistency.
Because in the end the books arent about "fantasy" (atleast the ones I have read), but as kinda didactic laments about the authors perceived nihilism and meaninglessnes/cruelty of the world.
Ok that may be reductive, cause there are many vivid and even beautiful or fascinating things described, but in the end you feel that tone of "Oh that is like fanfiction from the Bible book about how everythings is just meaningles vapor" tone.
Like in "the gods and time" there is a great short story about a prophet who sees the "true gods" and abondons the old ones for them with his followers, only to repeatedly then see even greater gods, only to lose more and more of his acolytes with each subsequent trip and in the end arive back at the old gods he rejected at the star - basically a commentary at the foly for the strive of knowledge or about how things are more simple at the end of it all than one trys to think.
But the important thing is that the "gods" of this short story dont really matter more than for the point they make in it - I would be surprised that for example the "mocking gods" have some specific lore, events and super powers etc like shit in Tolkiens stuff has, or in modern generic fantasy, where everyone is some world or warcraft charachter shooting magical auras.
Still, maybe Im ignorant, and in all the other storys there actually is that feeling of a shared mythology and "wordbuilding" besides the tone of "life's a bitch and then you die"
Anyways, what was the point of this all? I guess to say that it is kinda sad that an innovatitive form of literature gets reduced into the current state of "top ten word building tips!" videos on youtube.
Ok maybe thats to harsh, even I know how fun it is to come up with a setting and its own intrincitys, but still, I think one shouldnt limit oneself to that - its like watching DBZ for the power levels - when the point is that they dont matter.
But in the end, maybe this post just shows my own ignorance - maybe most fantasy does that already. Yet when I allways hear everybody praise some Brandon Sanderson guy, who seems to only care about "magic systems being consistent" and literally color codes his creatures to match emotions or some shit idkđ
And also, I wonder if Tolkien had actually finished more books if he hadnt noodled around with his silly lore matching, especially when it in the end still is contradictoryđđ€·ââïž
Anyways, sorry this kinda sounds more spitful than I wanted, guess its cause I saw some video where they talked about these books as if they were all about just creating some wacky fantasy world, which seemed strange to me after having read even just a small part of his whole work.
So: Yeah...Sorry
#lord dunsany#the gods of pegana#wordbuilding#fantasy#critique#misconceptions#genre fiction#sucks#broken telephone#idk#talking out my ass#research#yeah..sorry#extra credits#kinda suck tbh#or was it extra history#low information reader#Im talking bout myself here lol
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I adore Sidney Sime everything. Sime plus Dunsany is absolute brilliance.
I would buy the hell out of a print series of Sime's Gods of Pegana -- I especially want Trogool -- but such a thing appears not to exist. Sadly.
âA man is a very small thing, and the night is very large and full of wonders.â
Lord Dunsany
Art: Sidney Sime illustrates Lord Dunsanyâs Book of Wonder.
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I'm not tryna pen any raw as fuck quotes but I do want to read books that will make me feel better than the people who are, any recs?
level 1: read any anne carson poem. i think we all had a phase and got sick of her a few years ago but shes interesting because shes doing successfully what us tumblrinas usually fail to do, the perfect, concise, casual profundity rendered in plain language. i personally like her translation of the bacchae/the bakkhai but i know a lot of real classics people are annoyed by it lol im just a regular reader.
level 2: things me and retro and the dragonfucker have spammed each other with over the years
inanna's descent into the underworld
exaltation of inanna
the kalevala
the gods of pegana by lord dunsany
thunder perfect mind
im gonna be honest probably also your aleister crowleys and your madam blavatskys and shit. i like atlantis: the antediluvian world by ignatius donnelly. all those 19th century crackpots. you cant contain yrself to the 21st century man.
level 3: stop bugging me and get off of tumblr and find stuff around the internet and go to the real life library and read some shit thats been out of print since the clinton administration
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Shub
Darkness and The Nameless Mist
Then just nothing to say about Klamm
He's treacherous âđżđ
#artists on tumblr#nephren klamm#nephrenklamm#hsichenart#eldritch#oc#the gods of pegana#cthulhu#cthulhu mythos#shub niggurath#nyarlathotep#darkness#the nameless mist#outer gods#lovecraftian#monster girl#character design#character art#character illustration
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"The Dreams of Mana Yood Sushai," by Sidney Sime (1905) for Lord Dunsany's The Gods of Pegana (link)
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...Okay, so weird thing, I was listening to an audiobook of Lord Dunsany's "The Gods of PegÄna," which is amazing and y'all should check it out, but there was something funny about it.
Namely, the dreaded god of death is named Mung. Which means, whenever they brought up this ominous figure of mortality, I ended up picturing this fucker in my head:
"Were the forty million years before thy coming intolerable to thee? Not less tolerable to thee shall be the forty million years to come!"
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