The Druid Isle
Some time in the early medieval period in the Celtic lands of Britain and Brittany, fictionalized Druid folk struggle to save their ancient faith against encroaching Christians. Lucius, raised in a monastery thinking he has no family, escapes to spy on forbidden pagan rites – which end up luring him away. Beautiful Aife, raised on idyllic forest truths, manages to save her virtue from the slimy Christian king and is set rudderless into the waves to further her education wherever the wind blows her. Martinus, who might be St. Martin if this were Tours, runs around tearing down sacred groves and disrupting beautiful, uninhibited rites. The simplistic, almost childlike (except for the sex), plot unfolds as one expects.
What Aife and, eventually, Lucius learn on the Druid Isle is a long, unscrutinized tract on pagan lore – including chakras (for which there is a postlude apology). They win it as easily as hazelnuts of mythological wisdom drop into the otherworldly fountain and the mouths of waiting salmon. How can anything won that easily be worth the trouble? The conflicts – black and white and all-too easily solved – evolve in undeveloped settings, proving it is possible for anybody’s inspirational fiction to be didactic and soulless.
