Metafiction, Myth and Language: A World in Words (and Pictures)

 Getting back into serious work has been hard the past few days, but last night and this afternoon saw progress on the Gyldland Runic alphabet. First, the usable alphabet had to be defined - no Q, V, X, J or Z; no P (many words starting with 'P' in OE are Latin loan-words, and I wanted each Rune's name to have the initial letter which it represented), with additional characters for the 'specials', namely 'ash', and 'eth/thorn'. I set the six prime deities as the first six characters in the 'alphabet', with the others more or less randomly ordered as follows: So some slight modifications there from the first rough draft, with a couple of alternatives as well for good measure. This Rune system is clearly showing its pictographic origins, with one of my favourites being the 'B' - boda , = 'messenger', i.e raven. The Germanic reference there for readers ought to be clear enough (cf. Hugin and Munin). Also began a basic numbering s

What's this all about? Basically, the documentation of my 2021 final project for my MFAAH Master's degree. “Myth is a type of speech” (R. Barthes, 'Myth Today' in Mythologies ). If my work has a narrative, then it is one of narrative itself – sometimes multiple narratives, sometimes competing, unreliable, questioning, contradictory, and ambiguous. At times, meta-narratives; stories within stories, inside re-tellings of tales perhaps familiar or else new. And one of my most cherished kinds of ambiguous narrative is myth. Myth, as an oral body of knowledge initially, is therefore speech. And in written form, embedded, it is capable of being analysed, quoted, paraphrased, interpreted, mis-interpreted, bastardized and corrupted. The language I use to disclose my myth-makings are related, though separate; at once distant and unknowable, yet simultaneously tangible and everyday: English, and its antecedent, Old English – in which copious amounts of our modern English (and Sco