Normally Different:

A Look at a Selection of Haydn Middleton's Works

by Sara Wright




We were going to meet a real, living author. It would be soooo incredible. And he is going to be soooo...different. After all, anyone who writes about mythology (Celtic mythology, nonetheless), where figures from hundreds of years ago practically invade the bodies of, or at least are still present in, the bodies of everyday people, has to be...different, right? Or, we all know how...different...people that believe in shapeshifters, dragons, and Camelot are, don't we? I mean, anybody that thinks so....differently...has to dress in all black, incense laden clothes, with silver mood rings ornamenting dirt-filled, claw-like hands and nails, sporting suede, knee high lace-up boots, head-banging waist long hair, and adding a nasally, elongated, deep "dude" or "man" after every spoken syllable, don't they? So, we wait for this "being" to appear before us. A dead calm fills the room, as if everyone wants to stare without looking up from their laps. Haydn Middleton enters the room...

...dressed in khaki cotton trousers, a blue sweatshirt, a type of oxford shoe, and a tweed blazer! What? His hair is even cut short. What is this? How can someone that writes about such weir...I mean-different-subjects look so...normal? Even the things he talked about were so...well-balanced. Things like finances, goals and expectations. Not one single "dude" or "man." I don't understand.

Haydn Middleton, a writer of fiction/fantasy/mythology, is not different at all. He is a normal human being with the same needs, expectations, problems, and fears as the rest of us. He appears to be very concerned about his children and their well being, financially and emotionally. His writings are not only an extension of himself and his life, but a means of supporting his family and paying his bills, just like the rest of us. Middleton appears to be a very rounded person, concerned with very real problems and focused on very real issues. Three of these issues, family, emotions, and work, become themes in Middleton's work.

Middleton stated that he is very wrapped up with the "theme of family" because it is an issue "you don't stop worrying about." This theme or "preoccupation," as he calls it, is dominant in his work. The Lie of the Land is a prime example. The plot centers around the way a father, David Nennius, handles the molestation of his child by a stranger, and the deterioration of his family as a result, as well as the way in which he deals with these issues as a person, as well as a father.

The People in the Picture and The King's Evil are also examples. The People in the Picture centers around just that: a family picture that Jasmine Piast keeps in her home. The picture insinuates a happy, close-knit family; an ideal that Jasmine truly believes in. As the novel unfolds, though, we learn, through the help of a shapeshifter named Terence Lacey, that this family has its share of problems ranging from sibling rivalry to racial tensions. Lacey, as he is referred to in the novel, "assists" (in a sort of ironic way) this family, in dealing with their problems. It is hinted that he had something to do with the beginning of Jasmine and Roland's relationship: the continuation of a new family.

The King's Evil addresses the issue of incest (among other things). Mordred, the main character, has always known he was different than everyone else. He was torn from his family at birth in order to be saved, and has never felt like he really "belongs" with anyone; his brother even shuns him. Toward the end, we, the readers, find out why.

In each of these novels, though, the idea of the family with all the concerns, disagreements, and differences becomes a crucial part of the plot; the rest of the novel could not exist in the same way without these family issues. I think that is Middleton's point: family is still important despite and in spite of its imperfections.

While listening to Haydn Middleton speak, he made it very clear that one of his primary concerns was the feelings and emotions evoked from his work, which becomes the second theme. He sees his work as a "paradigm of a kind of life that could be lived;" one that flirts with "very human feelings, responses, and sensations." His work did just that for me.

My lack of experience with Celtic mythology intimidated me as I had begun to read The Lie of the Land; I simply assumed the plot would go right over my head, and I would hate reading about "those kinds of things." I didn't hate it at all. Granted, a mythological background would have given me a different insight into the material, but it didn't hinder my understanding or my ability to connect ("feel") the material.

I still shuddered when David Nennius (The Lie of the Land) described the molestation scene and quickly wondered how I would have responded in the same situation. I was dumbfounded upon discovering that Nennius and his ex-wife had a decent relationship until the communication broke down; that could be my marriage someday! Tears came to my eyes as father and son were reunited. What a feeling! And for Nennius to be so depressed, so desolate as to pretend his life was merely a story; how many times have I pretended that the hurt really belongs to someone else, because I am all together, all of the time? These are REAL feelings, real emotions.

I remember lying in bed yelling at Jasmine Piast (The People in the Picture) while she allowed Lacey to make her look like a fool: "Stand up for yourself, quit being such a wuss; you don't need him." The first chapter of The King's Evil made me want to take Mordred home with me because no little boy deserves to be made fun of and treated so cruelly. And was I mad to discover Marion was having an affair with Osterburg after I had been yelling at Daniel for pursuing Eppie (The Collapsinq Castle).

I could relate with the husband in the short story "The Conversion" as he said "I don't remember passing between the two houses" (241). To me, this was a symbolic way of expressing how the burden of everyday life and responsibilities gets in the way of the things that really matter in the beginning. My mind translated that line to "I don't remember when I lost track of what become important to me." It made sense to me; I felt what I thought the character was feeling.

I realize that each story can mean different things to different people, and some readers may not interpret them in the same ways that I did; they may not evoke the same feelings and emotions. What is important, and I think that Middleton will agree, is that his works surface some, any, emotions while allowing the reader to connect in his/her own way. In any case, these stories triggered situations that I connected to real life; something I believe to be an important element of reading, as well as enjoyment.

Middlleton appears to be very passionate about his work (the third theme). There are no specific quotes to illustrate this because it is a conglomeration of words and a kind of "feeling" in the air as he spoke. It was if he was writing a novel as he spoke; a kind of stream of consciousness that may, or may not, find its way to paper, like idea tennis: ideas are being hit around for a while, some make it over the net, some don't, but each carried a POSSIBILITY of making it, so each was just as important as the other. He makes no clear distinction between his life and his work because he views the two as one entity, bonded by a certain "seamlessness," as he refers to it. This "seamlessness" between work and home is apparent in his writings.

The Collapsing Castle is a good example. Osterburg is a professor teaching a mythology course at the college, while in life and outside of the classroom he parallels the magical druid, Merlin. Because of this, and other reasons, he is literally involved in some aspect of every other character's life, as if he were sewing all of the gaps, creating a whole entity. The shop owner (from this same novel) carries these same characteristics: he can't disassociate himself from his job. For this reason, he is constantly calling Daniel and "updating" him on what he has found out of the Vortigern and Rowena myth-even after Daniel has asked him not to.

David Nennius and Rachel, the social worker, from The Lie of the Land, are also examples of not disassociating their lives from their work. Nennius, obviously, writes a story, supposedly fictional, which turns out to be autobiographical. Rachel, because she is a "Good Samaritan" simply cannot refuse David' E cry for help, despite her love for her husband and his pleas to not get involved. She simply refuses to listen to anyone because she sees herself as a person destined to help others; she cannot let Nennius escape without at least trying. This connection between home and work lead to adaptations in her everyday "normal" life; adaptations that almost ended her career and her marriage. As she entered David Nennuius' life, she began to, literally, rewrite the ending to his story/autobiography. Talk about seamlessness!

Again, these are real issues that "real" people face everyday, yet Middleton has a way of blending these issues, themes, in ways that keep the reader thinking and connecting, and yet still very entertained; it's a sort of "safe" way for a reader to deal with problems. His writings allow the "human interaction" that he believes to be so important; "I want it to be something that makes a difference," he commented. By taking the things that are important to him, family, emotions, and work, adding some fantasy, a touch of humor, and a pinch of passion, Middleton has found the recipe to make this difference a success.

While I will have to admit that the omission of incense, black clothing, and silver jewelry threw me off, meeting with Haydn Middleton and reading his work has reminded me that imagination, creativity, and passion are not weird or different, simply human.

Works Cited

Middleton, Haydn. The Collapsing Castle. New York: Ballantine Books, 1991.

Middleton, Haydn. "The Conversion." Winter's Tales. Ed. Robin Baird-Smith. London, 1990. 223-245.

Middleton, Haydn. The King's Evil. Great Britain: Little. Brown and Company, 1995.

Middleton, Haydn. The Lie of the Land. London: Macmillian, 1989.

Middleton, Haydn. The People in the Picture. New York: Ballantine Books, 1987.

Middleton, Haydn. Guest speaker. Manchester College. Oxford, 4 Jul. 1996.


Working Bibliography



Books, Floris. The Death of Merlin: Arthurian Myth & Alchemy. Worcestor, 1984. 114-121.

Caldecott, Moyra. Women in Celtic Mythology. London: Arrow Books, 1988.

Dodds, David Llewellyn, ed. Charles Williams. Woodbridge: The Boydon Press, 1991.

Ellis, Peter Berresford. Dictionary of Celtic Mythology. London: Constable, 1992.

Matthews, Caitlin. Arthur and Sovereignty of Britain: King and Goddess in the Mabinogion. London: Arkana, 1989.

May Morning. Martin Hall. No other information given.

Rolleston, T.W. Illustrated Guide to Celtic Mythology. London: Studio editions, 1993.

Slung, Michelle, ed. I Shudder at Your Touch. New York: Penguin Books, 1992.

Stewart, R.J. Celtic Myths, Celtic Legends. London: Blandford, 1994.

Stewart, R. J. The Waters of the Gap. Arcania: Ashgrove Press, 1981.

The Mabinogion. Trans. Gwyn Jones and Thomas Jones. London: Orion Books, 1993.




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