By law, by Church doctrine, and by the unspoken consent of a society, power was a man’s possession in the Florentine Republic of the Quattrocento. A woman passed as property from her father to her husband. Her purpose, as the age defined it, was procreation and domestic service. Non-conformity was frowned upon, and in extreme […]
Women’s Power in A Tale of Paris & Paris: Echoes of Troy Read More »
There is a Latin pun at the heart of medieval Dominican identity so perfect it could only have been God’s own joke—or the devil’s. Domini canes: the Hounds of the Lord. It sounds almost exactly like Dominicanus, the Latin name for a member of the Order of Preachers founded by Saint Dominic in the early
The Hound of the Lord Read More »
William Morris believed the book as physical object was itself a work of art, that typography, layout, and illustration were not secondary to the text but coequal with it. I agree with him. Unconditionally. This is not a fashionable position. The publishing industry has spent decades treating book design as a downstream function. It is
On Being Your Own Designer, Typesetter, and Publisher Read More »
There are scenes in A Tale of Paris & Paris: Echoes of Troy that unsettle readers who arrive with their assumptions intact. The inquisitors who descend upon Cortona in 1450 are not the black-and-white Dominicans of legend, the Domini canes, the Hounds of God, the scholastic terrors immortalized in every gothic retelling of the medieval
The Inquisition Was Not Exclusively Dominican: Franciscans Also Investigated Read More »
There is a thread that runs through everything I write. It does not announce itself. It does not appear in chapter summaries or back-cover copy. But it is there in every novel, in every narrator’s voice, in every reunion between characters who meet for what the plot calls the first time and recognize each other
The Cosmological Thread: Souls Finding Each Other Across Lifetimes Read More »
There is a moment known to every writer who has ever chosen a nom de plume when the invented name becomes more real than the given one. I cannot say when that moment arrived for me. I know only that it has. The name Edmond Thornfield was not assembled at random. Each of its two
The Pen Name and the Alter Ego: Who Is Edmond Thornfield? Read More »
In my visits to Cortona, I always enter the citadel at the beginning of Via Nazionale, still known by the Cortonesi as Via di Ruga Piana, as it has been for centuries, the only leveled street in the whole city. The first time I did, the moment I laid my hands upon the remaining stones
Building the World of A Tale of Paris & Paris: Echoes of Troy | Cortona, 1450 AD Read More »
There is a grave irony embedded in the Church of San Francesco of Cortona. The man who built it, who brought its most precious relic from Constantinople, who wished with all his heart to be buried there—and was—that man died outside the order that bore his master’s name, expelled, excommunicated, and unredeemed by any Franciscan
Brother Elias, Sinner, the Man Who Built San Francesco of Cortona Read More »
Set on the island of Crete during the Minoan Bronze Age some 3,500 years ago, Asterios and the Labyrinth (Mythos of Knossos) by Edmond Thornfield is a tale of gods, kings, heroes, revolts, and magical powers. The Minoans, a wealthy people known for their farming and commerce, experienced some turbulence following the death of King
Asterios and the Labyrinth | Reviewed by Leonard Smuts for Readers’ Favorite Read More »
In the world of Atalanta of the Wild, worthy men do not simply walk into a king’s megaron. They are announced. A court herald strikes his staff upon the stone floor, and the name, lineage, and fame of the arriving hero ring out across the hall before the man himself has taken three steps into
PART TWO | The Heroes at the Gate: Assembling the Hunters of Khalydōn Read More »
