I remember sitting, staring at my phone, some time in mid-June 2020, trying choose a picture to post to Instagram, but just felt lost. I felt like the work I was posting - knights in armor, fair ladies, heroes of the past - would look out of place in the feed alongside posts about George Floyd’s murder, riots, political tension and, to top it all off, the Coronavirus. Why does it even matter? Why try to create images of a fantasy world when the real world seemed to be burning around me? It felt trite to encourage people to buy armor or attend Weekend Warrior when people were dying in the streets and hate seemed to be far more common than love.
So I canceled the post and stayed silent for over a month. I felt that there were more relevant voices speaking and your favorite fantasy costume account had little to offer. I may have been wrong; maybe I should have kept posting. As the year stretches on and tension still exists I have begun to realize that the years of relative peace may be behind us for some time. So, where do I go? What do I say? I spent the first years of my career in the center of the chaos. I studied Political Science and Naval Science in college, I was an officer in the United States Navy and a Naval Aviator. I did the real stuff. I was in the center of the political and military vortex. Now I am a guy who sews costumes, and tells stories. What do I have to offer any more?
Now, after some deep soul searching, lots of reading and talking with wise friends and fellow artists, I have a lot more clarity. Not only do I realize the value of what we do, even in times of chaos, but I think it is more important than ever. This is why:
One: Living is more than merely existing. Costumes, art, music, film, these are all luxuries. They are the first things cut from the budget and the last to be added back in. They have prospered in recent years due to the unprecedented economic prosperity we have enjoyed. When things take a downturn it is often easy to discard these trappings. I thought it was funny how people relentlessly mocked “out of touch” movie stars during the beginning of the pandemic, all while stuck at home, the only thing keeping them from complete boredom, Netflix. Ironic. But it proves the point that there is more to life than purely existing. Any student of history will tell you that the first thing a civilization did after getting out of “survival mode” was create art, music and storytelling. Because what is the point of all that hard work beating off the wolves, storms and barbarians if not to have the time to love, laugh and grow? Please understand, I think there is a lot more to life than mere entertainment, and often we personally grow the most in the midst of trials. But, in the moment of respite, access to good stories, beautiful music and awe inspiring art can reinvigorate us to go back into the struggle with lighter spirits and a resolute heart.
Two: Beauty unites. There is lots of money to be made and power to be gained these days in division. Division based on class, skin color, religion, nationality can all be weaponized with little more than a cell phone and internet access. We are told to focus on those things we resent about others and allow them to fester, build animosity and cause us to despise those who do not agree with us. We get so caught up in group-think that we begin to hate our neighbor with whom we have, maybe, only one disagreement. So, now more than ever, we need to have things in common to love.
In the same way that a single point of disagreement can be expanded to a festering wound, a single thing in common can begin to foster love and understanding. It is hard to hate someone (no matter your political disagreements) if you just shared a good beer, a beautiful song or a gripping story with them. Each one of those points of commonality begins to heal the wounds of division. It makes me so happy that people of every nation, color and creed enjoy our work. The mutual love of a beautiful story well captured can begin to heal wounds no amount of legislation or policy can. I am brought to mind of the story of the Christmas Truce of 1914 when the opposing armies, entrenched in mud and barbed wire, were brought together if only for a little while by a single soldier singing “Silent Night”. The more moments of beauty and joy we can create, the more such truces we can experience.
Three: We need heroes. G.K. Chesterton was one of the most brilliant minds of the 19th Century, and perhaps the father of modern medieval fantasy. When discussing fairy tales, he wrote:
“Fairy tales then, are not responsible for producing in children fear, or any of the shapes of fear; fairy tales do not give the child the idea of the evil or the ugly; that is in the child already, because it is in the world already. Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon. Exactly what the fairy tale does is this: it accustoms him for a series of clear pictures to the idea that these limitless terrors had a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.”
I bless my grandmother who was the book fairy to me as a child. She probably gave me 200 books between ages 7 and 12. Even better, she read every single one of them first so she knew they would be uplifting and inspiring. It is in these stories that I myself found heroes. I looked up to those noble knights, and dragon slayers, the Peter Pevensies and Bilbo Bagginses of fantasy. Henry V, George Washington, Sir Francis Drake and William Wallace of history. We live in a culture that seeks to destroy heroes. They want to dig up (or make up) any dirt they can, to prove “they are just as bad as us”. What is the point in this? Yes: all of us mortal, sinful humans do wrong. This cannot be denied.
But be warned in tearing down heroes, you also tear down the idea of heroes. We learn to excuse our own misdeeds because we have now set the standard so very low. No one is perfect, but we should all be striving to be better. If the story of one hero helps me or someone else be more noble, generous, kind and courageous, the effect is better than a thousand gritty, dark, tarnished “real” stories. So, by creating and telling stories of heroes in a beautiful way, we as artists and storytellers not only have the chance to bring joy, but also to inspire future acts of nobility.
So what does all this mean? Well, it means that the darker things get, the more we need the light. The worse things are, the more heroes we need, the more joy we need to share with each other and the world. And we cannot do this in silence. We must create beauty, we must share joy, we must inspire courage. Trials and woe will come, but we can equip ourselves with courage to face them and joy to endure.
I submit all this humbly, I am neither philosopher nor psychologist. I am but a man with wounds and scars, a man of broken heart and broken body, but who, like Alfred so long ago, “has still some song to sing”. So, to all my friends out there, artists, photographers, actors, musicians, and others who may be deemed “unessential”: you may just have the biggest role in getting us through the darkness and bringing us together. Keep working, creating and dreaming. And whether it is a shout or a whisper, say with Húrin, “Aurë entuluva! Day shall come again!”
-Zan Campbell
