Hit and Myth

Went to a book fair in the Dorset town of Shaftesbury this morning. The usual suspects showed up; books about Thomas Hardy (this is Hardy country), books about the rural delights of the West Country and books about antique clocks and watches and weaponry. But what were also there, in disproportionate numbers, were books about myths and legends. There were volumes devoted to Arthur and Camelot and witchcraft and curses and standing stones atop their presumed power grids of neolithic ley-lines.
It struck me that myths answer a need in us, a craving both profoundly deep and a chasm distant from the mundanity of the lives most of us lead.
This is good news, obviously, for a writer like me because it means there is an audience for the kind of subject matter I deal in. It's also quite intriguing to speculate on how much hard fact lies behind these stories that reverberate down the centuries.