Stone Houses
The post title is a quote from a fictitious William Wallace, compliments of the movie Braveheart, and I’m telling myself it’s connected to my subject matter here, but it’s possible that it just sounds cool. You decide.
I’m in the Scottish highlands with my family for two weeks, which feels a lot like my Oregon home. Maybe it’s the trees and green things, the friendliness of the people, or the lurking DNA of my Scottish ancestors. There is one big difference, though: stone houses.
I love stone houses.
Stepping inside a stone house is like stepping back in time. We’re staying in the stone Victorian pictured above, which is both homey and grand, not busy or fussy like an American Victorian (which I also love). I say it’s like stepping back in time, which is as close as one can get. Those of us who read historical fiction, fantasy, and other nostalgic literary genres, will feel my pain.
If I had a superpower, it would not be flying or mind-reading or being able to speak any language at will (although this is a close second). I would transport myself through time. Imagine it — you pick a spot, say on a sidewalk in Edinburgh, with the cars whizzing by on the wrong side of the road, but suddenly, it’s the 15th century, or the 6th century, or the iron age, or even Jurassic.
The only way this works is if one is impervious to harm, so maybe my superpower involves me being a sort of ghost, but I can walk around and explore, and be inside the moment, just as it was in days of yore. These were the books of my childhood: the magic of parting those fur coats at the back of the wardrobe and stepping into a snowy forest lit by a single lamppost, or picking up a coin on the sidewalk that transports you into Arthurian times. The lure of the past is deep, instinctive, and it can tell us a lot about what it is to be human.
Analog Values
There has been an explosion of interest in analog practices and technologies in recent years, which is not at all surprising. With the world spiraling forth into the digital age, fueled by its own mysterious mechanisms, all of which seem to be out of our control, is it any wonder we long for the past?
I approach analog reality in a slightly different way. There is something foundational that shifts with each technological revolution. The way we experience the world and our humanity is invisibly and inextricably tied to how we manipulate the world. Maybe it has something to do with opposable thumbs. Fire changed us, farming changed us, machines changed us, and now even our conception of intelligence is proven to be malleable. The digital age comes with hidden cargo, a submerged, perfectly intact structure lurking below the visible part, that proverbial tip of the iceberg. Digital reality functions in a way that is fundamentally distinct from analog reality.
That is what interests me.
When we understand that difference, we know what to keep and what to discard — or more to the point, we know how analog values can anchor and enhance the disruptive and transformative power of the digital age. In the following posts, I’ll be talking about things like limitation, effort, resonance, physicality and even nostalgia.
If you’re coming to my work through my books, maybe you’re thinking this is not really your thing. I promise, I’ll continue to share content and opportunities from my novels — past, present and future. But if you like my books, there’s a good chance you’re already interested in analog values, in history, folklore and myth, in human relationships, and in thinking deeply on what’s possible in being human.
If you’re already interested in an analog lifestyle, I hope these conversations can enrich your experience and your practices. If you’re a digital enthusiast, I think you’ll find that I’m equally fascinated by the raw, exponential power of the digital age. And if you just like reading books — well, books are inherently analog, and there will be plenty of conversations about those too.
What does this have to do with stone houses?
To travel is to encounter the past, especially in places like Europe where the hardscape still lingers in the form of stone houses and castle ruins, and the occasional decommissioned train depot. In the next few posts, I’ll be sharing some insights inspired by my surroundings, from the analog qualities of fantasy literature to the commercialization of nostalgia. I’ll examine the counter-intuitive tensions that connect effort and satisfaction, limitation and value, and even progress and deterioration.
I’m going to keep it short — if your inbox is anything like mine, it can take up your whole day. But I hope to deliver a little bit of value each time, and if I’m lucky, once in a while, I’ll make you see the world in a new way.
So, stay tuned, and if something I’ve touched on interests you, please tell me about it! Conversation is an analog value too.
Loved traveling with you through your post. It resonated so much. Thinking of you so much :)