Ask the Author: Heather Rose Jones
Answered Questions (3)
Heather Rose Jones
What a fun question! To find the answer on your own, you'd probably need to look things up in a etymological dictionary rather than simple translation--so your confusion is understandable.
When I was first developing the idea of magical "mysteries" I was thinking vaguely of several uses of the word: religious rituals known as "mysteries", the idea of "craft mysteries" and the "mystery plays" of the middle ages, and of course the more everyday sense of "something unknown, something to be discovered." I wanted to make the title of the novel (Daughter of Mystery) a play on the various meanings: that there were mysteries to be solved, and that the characters were deeply involved in the creation and performance of religious mysteries.
But when I started poking around in my Latin sources for correct spellings and inflections, I was startled to discover that the English word "mystery" is used for words with two different origins. One is the Latin "mysterium" borrowed from Greek μῠστήρῐον which has the "secret, concealed" sense and was used to refer to religious rituals that were kept secret from the general public. (People may be familiar with the phrase "the Eleusinian Mysteries" referring to celebrations in honor of Demeter and Persephone.)
But there's a second sense of "mystery" that derives from Latin ministerium (also the origin of "ministry") that has a meaning along the lines of "work, craft, service". This is often cited as the origin of the phrase "mystery plays", which were ritual religious-themed plays put on by professional and social guilds, and may also be related to the idea of "craft mysteries" --not in the sense of something kept secret, but simply referring to "the practices of a specific craft profession."
When I turned up these two origins (which I'd originally thought were from the same source), it really sparked ideas about the tension between magical practice as a secret tradition and magical practice as an ordinary craft and profession, especially in how a parallel tradition of secular magical ceremonies might evolve in the world of Alpennia alongside more orthodox religious ones. With that in mind, I had the title for Fortunatus' treatise on the nature of miracles and the concept of mechanism--that mystery rituals could be approached scientifically, not just theologically. So the title of his book “De Mysteriis et Misteriis” means "Concerning Mysteries [as a secret and concealed practice] and Mysteries [as a form of craft and service]." That tension between the two concepts is a major theme in Margerit's relationship to her magical talents. I love embedding word-play like this in the books and I'm always delighted when someone notices and enjoys it too!
When I was first developing the idea of magical "mysteries" I was thinking vaguely of several uses of the word: religious rituals known as "mysteries", the idea of "craft mysteries" and the "mystery plays" of the middle ages, and of course the more everyday sense of "something unknown, something to be discovered." I wanted to make the title of the novel (Daughter of Mystery) a play on the various meanings: that there were mysteries to be solved, and that the characters were deeply involved in the creation and performance of religious mysteries.
But when I started poking around in my Latin sources for correct spellings and inflections, I was startled to discover that the English word "mystery" is used for words with two different origins. One is the Latin "mysterium" borrowed from Greek μῠστήρῐον which has the "secret, concealed" sense and was used to refer to religious rituals that were kept secret from the general public. (People may be familiar with the phrase "the Eleusinian Mysteries" referring to celebrations in honor of Demeter and Persephone.)
But there's a second sense of "mystery" that derives from Latin ministerium (also the origin of "ministry") that has a meaning along the lines of "work, craft, service". This is often cited as the origin of the phrase "mystery plays", which were ritual religious-themed plays put on by professional and social guilds, and may also be related to the idea of "craft mysteries" --not in the sense of something kept secret, but simply referring to "the practices of a specific craft profession."
When I turned up these two origins (which I'd originally thought were from the same source), it really sparked ideas about the tension between magical practice as a secret tradition and magical practice as an ordinary craft and profession, especially in how a parallel tradition of secular magical ceremonies might evolve in the world of Alpennia alongside more orthodox religious ones. With that in mind, I had the title for Fortunatus' treatise on the nature of miracles and the concept of mechanism--that mystery rituals could be approached scientifically, not just theologically. So the title of his book “De Mysteriis et Misteriis” means "Concerning Mysteries [as a secret and concealed practice] and Mysteries [as a form of craft and service]." That tension between the two concepts is a major theme in Margerit's relationship to her magical talents. I love embedding word-play like this in the books and I'm always delighted when someone notices and enjoys it too!
Heather Rose Jones
Thank you for asking! (I'm adding that to my list of "interesting ways people have found my novels.")
In fact, when I was first starting to write Daughter of Mystery, I decided to keep a "development diary" where I jotted down notes about how the story and the worldbuilding developed, just for my own later amusement. (The story itself went through some fairly drastic changes as I wrote.) The story as first conceived was more of a straightforward Ruritanian romance, without overt fantastic elements.
When I started brainstorming for the nature of the conspiracy that Estefen would trick Margerit into joining, my first idea was some sort of Rosicrucian/Masonic type of group that studied alchemy and ceremonial magic. As I played with that idea, the thought came to me, "But what if the magical aspects were *real*? What if getting drawn into a magical ceremony really did have the potential for physically attacking Alpennia's rulers?"
And here in my notes from December 2007 (when I'd written up to the point of the reading of the Baron's will and was starting to think ahead to what Margerit would be doing in Rotenek) is a note that seems to answer your question very directly:
"I need to develop the 'fantasy' aspects of the world. My current ideas draw from historical supernatural practices except that in this world 'stuff works'. Examples would be alchemy (transmutation, humors, sympathetic magic, the mystic marriage?), the invocation of saints, angels (and demons) with regularly observable and supernatural consequences in the physical world (misc. charms, protections, interventions in natural law, etc.). Overall, the basic principle is 'stuff works', where knowledge and practice are the key factors with some smaller element of chance and talent. I don't want the supernatural effects to seem mechanical and there isn't any clear physical manifestation of the supernatural creatures being invoked, but the results should be systematic, not attributable to chance, and logically related to the method of invocation."
I don't know how much farther you've read in the series. In Daughter of Mystery, the supernatural elements we encounter are mostly religious in context, and in part it's because that's the way Margerit experiences them. But as the series goes on, as other characters with other interests come into focus, and as Margerit's experience of the world widens, we start seeing other venues in which "magical stuff works".
The specific aspect of the Mysteries of the Saints is drawn largely from historical folk-magic practices that use saints as intermediaries (or, if you will, as a conceptual focus for the person performing the work), shading imperceptibly into Catholic religious practices around the cults of saints. In the world of Alpennia, "low magic" is more likely to be focused around objects and arbitrary signifiers (written formulas, use of candles and tertiary relics, etc.) while "high magic" is more likely to be focused around ceremony (scripts and symbolic roles).
Every time I need a new infusion of ideas for expanding the fantastic aspects of the Alpennia books, I start by studying some real-world historic approach to magic and the supernatural. For The Mystic Marriage, this was alchemy and the lore of gemstones. For a future book (Mistress of Shadows) I'm going back to the idea of secular ceremonial magic in some of its darker forms, as well as researching folk-magic/religious practices of Islam for a character who is part of the Franco-Egyptian community in Paris. I find my writing is richer for being rooted in the complex diversity of historic beliefs and practices, even though I then adapt those to my own vision of how all these practices are part of the same underlying system (although my characters would never believe that!)
In fact, when I was first starting to write Daughter of Mystery, I decided to keep a "development diary" where I jotted down notes about how the story and the worldbuilding developed, just for my own later amusement. (The story itself went through some fairly drastic changes as I wrote.) The story as first conceived was more of a straightforward Ruritanian romance, without overt fantastic elements.
When I started brainstorming for the nature of the conspiracy that Estefen would trick Margerit into joining, my first idea was some sort of Rosicrucian/Masonic type of group that studied alchemy and ceremonial magic. As I played with that idea, the thought came to me, "But what if the magical aspects were *real*? What if getting drawn into a magical ceremony really did have the potential for physically attacking Alpennia's rulers?"
And here in my notes from December 2007 (when I'd written up to the point of the reading of the Baron's will and was starting to think ahead to what Margerit would be doing in Rotenek) is a note that seems to answer your question very directly:
"I need to develop the 'fantasy' aspects of the world. My current ideas draw from historical supernatural practices except that in this world 'stuff works'. Examples would be alchemy (transmutation, humors, sympathetic magic, the mystic marriage?), the invocation of saints, angels (and demons) with regularly observable and supernatural consequences in the physical world (misc. charms, protections, interventions in natural law, etc.). Overall, the basic principle is 'stuff works', where knowledge and practice are the key factors with some smaller element of chance and talent. I don't want the supernatural effects to seem mechanical and there isn't any clear physical manifestation of the supernatural creatures being invoked, but the results should be systematic, not attributable to chance, and logically related to the method of invocation."
I don't know how much farther you've read in the series. In Daughter of Mystery, the supernatural elements we encounter are mostly religious in context, and in part it's because that's the way Margerit experiences them. But as the series goes on, as other characters with other interests come into focus, and as Margerit's experience of the world widens, we start seeing other venues in which "magical stuff works".
The specific aspect of the Mysteries of the Saints is drawn largely from historical folk-magic practices that use saints as intermediaries (or, if you will, as a conceptual focus for the person performing the work), shading imperceptibly into Catholic religious practices around the cults of saints. In the world of Alpennia, "low magic" is more likely to be focused around objects and arbitrary signifiers (written formulas, use of candles and tertiary relics, etc.) while "high magic" is more likely to be focused around ceremony (scripts and symbolic roles).
Every time I need a new infusion of ideas for expanding the fantastic aspects of the Alpennia books, I start by studying some real-world historic approach to magic and the supernatural. For The Mystic Marriage, this was alchemy and the lore of gemstones. For a future book (Mistress of Shadows) I'm going back to the idea of secular ceremonial magic in some of its darker forms, as well as researching folk-magic/religious practices of Islam for a character who is part of the Franco-Egyptian community in Paris. I find my writing is richer for being rooted in the complex diversity of historic beliefs and practices, even though I then adapt those to my own vision of how all these practices are part of the same underlying system (although my characters would never believe that!)
Heather Rose Jones
Alpennia is a sort of "Ruritania" in the sense of being inserted into the existing geography of Europe without actually replacing or displacing any existing countries. For that reason, I tend to be rather vague about the specific borders to avoid contradicting reality. But if you will allow for a certain elasticity of geography, Alpennia is located roughly in a place where it can border on France, Italy, and Switzerland. Travel via Marseille is mentioned specifically in the context of winter travel when a more direct eastern or south-eastern route over the Alps wouldn't be practical. So the options for travel to Vienna would be either south and then either a coastal or sea route, or north and via Germany (which would still involve mountains at some point).
Under normal circumstances, of course, summer travel to points east would be more direct. Unless there happened to be some sort of mystical interference with the alpine weather patterns that was designed to prevent the easy movement of large numbers of people (such as military units) by those routes …. (Which just _might_ be a relevant plot point in the next book, Mother of Souls.)
By pure coincidence, I was planning to blog about Alpennian geography today. I haven't posted it yet so I can't provide a direct link, but check out http://hrj.livejournal.com under the "Alpennia" tag later for more discussion.
Thank you so much for your question! I love talking about my world-building.
Under normal circumstances, of course, summer travel to points east would be more direct. Unless there happened to be some sort of mystical interference with the alpine weather patterns that was designed to prevent the easy movement of large numbers of people (such as military units) by those routes …. (Which just _might_ be a relevant plot point in the next book, Mother of Souls.)
By pure coincidence, I was planning to blog about Alpennian geography today. I haven't posted it yet so I can't provide a direct link, but check out http://hrj.livejournal.com under the "Alpennia" tag later for more discussion.
Thank you so much for your question! I love talking about my world-building.
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