The word Romance Is a very powerful one, deep and complex with its vines weaving around and into most everything we do. Romance has been the start of dynasties, the cause of wars, and the inspiration for a lot of our songs, poems and artwork. It is the story of Pride and Prejudice, Romeo and Juliet, and many, many, many more. That, however, is only part of the meaning, one I will only acknowledge at this time. The poets and philosophers have pontificated the nature of romance for as long as we have been a species, and I only have so much room to write today.
Instead, we will talk about Romance. While romance focuses on the love shared between a man and a woman, Romance is stories and concepts based on legend, chivalric love and adventure, or the supernatural. It is Romance that inspires the hearts of men and women to do the extraordinary, and live beyond the scope of what is considered “real life.”
Romance is the story of the wandering warrior who travels from town to town fighting injustice and standing up for the innocent. It is the captain that goes down with his ship, fighting the sea itself to give his crew as much time to escape as possible. It is the explorers leaving behind the life they know to travel bravely into the unknown.
This deeper Romance forges dynasties, charts new courses, and flies in the face of the nihilism and humanism that drives culture today. The more you pay attention to the works of artists of all mediums today, you will notice certain trends. Female empowerment being distilled down to “make women what women think men are,” the only thing that matters is your feelings and the desires of your flesh, and “love is letting other people destroy themselves because it doesn’t affect you” being some of the most common. To the point, art that doesn’t do that is oftentimes explicitly attacked unless it is so sanitized it is incapable of inspiring any kind of emotion or reaction.
Why would anyone believe any of these things? Because a sinister lie had ensnared many in our generation. Romance is dead, and “Reality” has killed it. “Reality” says there were never any dragons to slay. That the concept of man and woman is a lie meant to enslave you, and all one is trying to do is enslave the other. You weren’t created for anything, you were the product of cosmic chance, so the only things worth doing are the things that make you feel good.
This is done by tricking people into believing that the facts say reality is only skin deep, and that any sort of deeper meaning is a fairytale meant to trick you. And if you disagree, you are a bigot.
I am gonna let you in on a very powerful secret about Facts. Facts by themselves are powerless. The only power a fact truly has lies in how you react to it. Let me show you. Do you remember our friend the knight from last month? Let’s look at the raw facts about the photo, then two of the ways we could react to him.
The picture was taken recently, since to my knowledge the medieval era had no color photography. Based on that background, this picture was likely taken in the American midwest, where there were no knights to speak of. Due to it being in the middle of nowhere, whoever it was likely drove a while in a car to get the photoshoot. Cars also being something that did not exist in the medieval era.
Now, based upon these facts, I declare the knight and anyone who likes him to be not only a dork, but a wheraboo cosplayer, who would rather look at the past than accept the reality that only old rockstars or celebrities get actual knighthoods today. You can play dress up with armor and use all the old grammar and titles and even dances that you want. You will only be cosplaying something that died when gunpowder became widespread. Something that wasn’t even that cool during the time with how oppressive knights were to the peasants and minorities of the time.
Don’t I sound like a fun person to talk to at parties? Now, let’s attach a more Romantic meaning to the knight.
Someone liked the idea of knighthood we came up with during the romance era. That person was willing to make or purchase a full suit of metal armor, drive for potentially hours to somewhere that could pass for parts of Europe, and do a photoshoot. That person put work in to finding the perfect place, and perfect time of day, to become a modern take on what a knight used to stand for.
Do you think they did all of this work for just money? I promise you this kind of modeling does not pay anywhere near what you think it does. Or did he do it because the idea of the knight is a powerful one? What is it about a warrior that hasn’t existed for around 400 years that compelled someone to try and emulate that today?
“But author, what’s the difference between Romance and fairytale? Sure, what you have to say about the knight sounds nice, but isn’t everything the ‘realist’ said about the knight also true?” Yes, And to an extent I agree with every word he said. Keep in mind however that two things can be true at the same time. I submit to you that what initially appears to be conflict, is actually confirmation that the knight is real and has meaning. Because while both parties can see the knight, only one side makes the knight powerful.
In other words, the Realist serves the facts, while the facts serves the Romantics.
This is the power of Romance, and that is what we fight to create. Because Romance transforms and transcends the facts into something that is only as limited as your mind makes it. When you step into the Romantic, the Banquet and Ball goes from a night of dinner and dancing that you learned etiquette for, and turns it into a fantastical story where people become who they were created to be. Where men and women love and honor each other to a platonic depth that we thought long dead. Where demons and dragons that have haunted you your whole life go to die.
Because to quote Alfred Lord Tennyson, “Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?”
How does this apply to the Ball?
I wholeheartedly believe that no answer I could give would ever encompass the scope of just how Romantic the Banquet and Ball truly is. So in lieu of that, I will leave you with this story from our dear friend, Anneliese Myers. Have fun deciding the meaning to the facts of her experience.
Remembering what God has done
Anneliese Katherine Myers
The hall was dark and I stood alone, watching an even darker silhouette of a man stride towards me, confident and without hurry. The clacking of his shoes echoed strangely off the floor and walls around us. Clack, clack, clack, the darkness of the silhouette slowly replacing itself with the visage of a man wearing a tuxedo with each clack. When he reached me he turned, offering his arm. I gathered up my skirts and accepted, relieved to find that I did not stumble as we began our stately walk deeper into the unknown.
Save for the sound of our shoes, silence reigned until we reached a doorway at the end of the hall. My escort halted and spoke my name, as if in sudden revelation. “Anneliese?” he asked. “Yes?” I replied, with slight trepidation. “Ah” I could make out the barest trace of a smile on his shadowed face. “I did not recognize you at first. You look stunning.”
“Thank yo-” Before I could say more, we were through the doorway where it was darker still, winding our way between vague shapes and irregular corners. Then there was light. Releasing my arm but not my hand, my escort bowed and I remembered to curtsy. His eyes met mine and he whispered “This is who you are supposed to be” before turning and vanishing back into the dark.
Soon, another voice announced my name with grand, reverberating tones and I walked down a grand staircase. My right hand trailed softly along the banister as I entered the most vivid and dream-like evening of my life. It all blurs in memory – the faces, familiar and solemn, the velvet and wool of tuxedos and the satin and gauze of gowns. The colors, rich and thick as an oil pastel…and the glimpses of the woman I am supposed to be.
I found her in the moments of fearlessness, joy, and authenticity that stole over me. She lent me her grace and earnestness as we danced through the night.
I hardly recognized myself.
When the dream ended, the words remained – This is who you are supposed to be.
The Banquet and Ball, to me, is always a reminder of Whose I am, and of who I am becoming.
Praise the Lord.