Two Mountains

Sacred grounds for old gods

Hey! What does Rifcam look like to you?

In my mind, it’s flat and surrounded on all sides by massive mountains. The village itself borders farms and grasslands. The trees and the forest only really come into view when you reach the base of the mountains.

Nothing too surprising and clearly inspired by the plains and steppes found around the world. The magic of Maneus seemingly settling into this cauldron of chaos.

And yet I was surprised by my dad’s vision of Talge Kimmet. How he saw one of the largest mountains in Rifcam valley. That sacred place where Lithan and Aubir find the blue flower.

I never imagined Talge Kimmet looking quite like how he painted it, but I also don’t believe in wrong interpretations. I find his version to enrich the idea and give me a new perspective on the world I created.

And if I’m being honest, I trust my dad to have a better understanding of real life forests and trees than I do. With a lifelong career in environmental sciences, I think he knows how nature could mold the earth into the shapes I describe.

A Way Home

While I do truly appreciate my dad’s image, there is something missing. Most significantly, the other mountain Lithan meets on his journeys: Talge Swaredon.

There’s a rather simple explanation though. He was going for a more solitary glacier peak and not an exact depiction of Talge Kimmet. He painted a landscape on the canvas that is closer to his own personal experiences and memories.

In his youth, my dad was a ranger for wildlife parks. The way it felt to be in and among the sights and sounds of nature had a profound impact on him. I don’t know for sure, but I can imagine the impressive image of rock and ice towering over everything else was the most impactful.

In a way, I could see Lithan very much enjoying that park ranger life. As much as it would pain my dad to admit it, they do share that character trait.

However, if you’re interested in a depiction of the valley closer to what was in my mind, my sister Molly created just that.

When I rewrote Maneus, I wanted to include a few pieces of art for the major breaks in the story—the start of each Book. So, I worked closely with Molly to come up with something that reflects the Rifcam in my head.

With simple colors and only a few shapes, she captured what I thought to be the essence of Lithan’s home—the village, the two mountains, and the blue flower.

Answer the Call

In for a penny, in for a pound.

I might as well go back as far as I can and show you the earliest images of Talge Kimmet and Talge Swaredon. When I began writing Book II, I started with a sketch drawn by my own shaky hand.

Basic outlines of what would become the key to Lithan’s dual journeys. The character I was writing could only find a way home by answering the call. If only he didn’t fear the unknown number—a sentiment many of us surely share.

The rough draft wasn’t meant to be an accurate portrayal geographically or cartographically. It served to highlight the main theme of Book II—the two journeys it takes for Lithan to find himself, a representation of his ongoing battle between desire and destiny.

My initial thoughts may be a little too abstract, but it led to a more fleshed out idea of the whole valley. To honor that and show more of myself in Lithan’s mind, I kept the sketch in the final version of Maneus.

You can find it in the appendix at the very end under the section titled Lithan’s Drawings.

Comfort and Shelter

My dream, my sister’s translation, or my dad’s desire should not overly influence your own experience. I would love to see and feel everyone’s interpretation of the wild words I put into those hundreds of pages.

What the individual feels is worth much more than any “accurate portrayal.” That’s something I very much enjoy with all the comments and discussions in the Maneus Book Club.

People will always get something different out of art. The most I can hope for is that those reflections help build a greater understanding.

So, what does Rifcam look like to you?

I’m not sure how universal the experience is, but when I was very young I grew up in an isolated valley. I remember thinking the sections of the mountains looked like the toes of giants.

I could imagine these beings rising high into the sky. If their toes were that big then surely their full height would nearly touch the moon!

Perhaps it was meant as an exercise in imagination or the remnants of trying to read divine messages, but either way it’s now a nostalgic memory of simpler times.

Until next time.

Cheers,

John