Interview with author, E. Louise Van Hine

Interview with, E. Louise Van Hine, author of
Princes of the East.

To shop and order the complete works of E. Louise Van Hine please click on her publishing link http://zebratta.org/

About this remarkable author:

E. L. Van Hine is a scholar of English and European colonial literature, and a student of Western philosophy.  She was born in Lowell, Massachusetts on December 2, 1959, holds a B.A. in English (Literature) from the University of Massachusetts at Fitchburg (1982), matriculated at Harvard University (Foreign Literature in Translation) and University of Massachusetts at Lowell, earning high honors from all of these institutions.  She began publishing as a journalist in 1975 while still a high school student, and her literary criticism and poetry has been published in small presses between 1991 and 1997 when her first collection of poems, Epistle to the North Americans was published in its second limited edition.  She began the world’s first online-only Karma Bank for free will donations for art and literature on  http://www.zebratta.org/, where she publishes the first editions of her novels and poems, as well as essays and commissioned artwork from Canadian artists Michael Vriens and Jen Hart.  Princes of the East is her third novel.  A sequel, The Two Empires, is not yet complete. Other novels in print can be obtained from Threshold Publishing Company:  The Erotic Études (2005), and Tourmaline (2010).  Some of her other novels The Confession of Alexandrus Basileus 334 (2000), The Death of a Mad Composer (2003) and Your Skinny Girl (2006) are available in electronic form on www.zebratta.org/ for free will donation, and will soon find their way to print.  She composes songs and simple works for piano, and has a day job which involves typing gobbledegook. 

She lives in Alexandria, Virginia with a small herd of computers, a piano, and a large stack of manuscripts, and has one child that is not made of paper.

Please give us a brief synopsis of your book, Princes of the East.

Princes of the East opens in 396 A.D., the year following the partitioning of the sweeping Roman Empire into East and West under pressure of the rise barbarian resistance to invasion and the imposition of the Pax Romana on the lives and worship of pagan gods.  Chafing under the oppression of Roman domination, the diminished Greek empire, now a client state, has sent its best and brightest far afield to find new allies and maintain its centers of learning in the mountains of northern Europe and Asia minor, where they serve the households of the eastern Khans, themselves vassals of the Empire.  The greatest of these, Eleusis, safe in the remote mountains of northern Macedonia, sends its physicians into the homes of these leaders to serve them and to gain necessary financing for the training of new initiates into the art of medicine.  And to the only daughter of the Khan of Bithynia, himself without sons or other heirs, are born two sons; one of them unremarkable and robust, and the firstborn and presumptive heir of Bithynia, Saheris – who even the Eleusinians, with their deep knowledge of the mysteries of the ancients, can’t quite tell whether he is male, female, or a combination of both.  A child of mixed parentage, of unknown paternity, is reared into the hardest position of all – a fighting king who must use all of his strength and intelligence to defeat the enemies surrounding his tiny empire on all sides, as well as the enemy within his own family; and ultimately – himself.  Alongside him, his brother Sahelis, bookish and introspective by contrast, and grows into such a remarkably different individual that neither child, in time, recognizes the other.  Despite his greater learning, however, Sahelis too is dependent upon the mercurial and violent Saheris to protect his life and all they hold dear as Rome gathers its allies to subdue the East and annex Asia permanently.  Book I spans the years 396 to 410 A.D.

Empire of Bithynia http://rbedrosian.com/Maps/bith.htm (click link to enlarge)

Your synopsis mentioned that your main character, Saheris El Maduc, is an intersex individual. What is the significance of this and how is that important to your story?

The story concerns the relationship of the higher self with the lower, the mundane with the spiritual in the development of a new kind of culture, beyond institutionalized Christianity, heredity, blood, aristocracy, pretense, and primogeniture.  It is beyond even sex, for the type of the new warrior king is not in a typical heterosexual, patriarchal character, but an androgynous one, a man who by a misfortune or fortune of evolution, is male only in a salutary sense, if not actually.  The idea that sex determines one's role societally is an artefact of a dying empire.   All spiritual endeavours of the past 5,000 years have acknowledged the role of women as equal and in every way participatory in the Great Work.  Saheris is, in literal aspect, neither man nor woman but the type of the new human; with the manifested elements of both.  Let the allegory speak for itself.

In modern terms, can you explain/name and describe what is the intersex condition of Saheris El Maduc?

Saheris was born with the condition I am most familiar with, congenital adrenal hyperplasia.  This condition was not known or understood during late antiquity (the centuries after the birth of Christ), however, there were some things known, and there were children born with ambiguous or mixed genitalia. Saheris’s physicians who attend him during early illnesses believe, and rightly so, that he falls ill due to some extremely stressful event – CAH causes deficiencies in the production of essential hormones that allow us to thrive under stress; but paradoxically, he is enormously strong and muscular, due to the unchecked production of testosterone and other androgens in his body.  Though his Greek physicians (the most advanced of the time) do not know what causes the anomalies, they can see by the time he is a teenager, that he does not have the typical body of a boy, nor the normal size of genitals – because he is what modern medicine referred to as a ‘female pseudohermaphrodite’ – with internal female organs and the external genital features of a male.

The key characters in the book are Saher (father), Sahera (daughter), Saheris and Sahelis (Sahera's sons).  Please provide some key points about these characters that may or may not be obvious for the reader when reading Princes of the East.

I have modeled the characters of the trilogy upon traits that are representative of a flawed or incomplete character.

Duty without ambition:  Saher

Ambition without conscience:  Sahera

Courage and virtue without strength:  Sahelis

Strength, courage, ambition, without discipline:  Saheris

There are four main leadership styles examined, which are not, per se, individuals, but rather allegorical types.  There is a rough frame on the character of Saheris, historically he is Attila, "father of waters" the recognized leader of a nomad Asiatic people who served both Roman and Byzantine empires for his own gain, but underlyingly for a larger purpose, to check the religious and military might of an empire gone mad in its own indulgence and decay.

Rome represents the United States, and Bithynia, the independent element of a free, post-imperial unified Europe, the type of the new Union of Europe.  Sahelis and Saheris are foils and opposites, or rather, two levels of the same being, Saheris the material man in the world, the king/warrior and scion of a new nation from his own seed;  Sahelis, the higher self, the aspirant whose relation to the warrior king is one of conscience; but also, a willing hostage to a long-term contract; that contract to undo the crime laid upon them at their births, and to vanquish the empire that seeks to destroy all they value and hold dear.  In this undertaking, the brothers' intent is always singular; however, Saheris cannot be led, he must lead.  Sahelis has no influence upon Saheris, except by the subtle force of his love for him, and his obedience to their pact.

Saheris El Maduc's mother, Sahera, was very warrior-like and did things -- as your character description noted -- without a conscience. For me, as I read the book, I found her to be a scary individual. Saheris El Maduc was fascinated and terrified of her in the story. Can you explain the dynamics and significance of her role in terms of her relationship with her son, Saheris?

Sahera, to Saheris, represents the unattainable goal, in its many forms - at first, the unknown, barely glimpsed mother who refuses to allow him to see her as a small child - and yet, steals away by night to invade his bedroom to offer him a strange symbol: the coin, as a promise of a destiny she has carefully planned for him and Sahelis. Later, the violent encounters at Euxis and  in the woods of Cormorin - which leaves no doubt of her murderous intentions, produces a dilemma within Saheris - Sahera ultimately becomes the object of his greatest fear - and greatest desire.   In certain respects - he finds himself growing into - not the cautious strategist his grandfather would have him be; but instead, a cunning, impulsive and furious warrior, driven by his personal desire to conquer those who would oppose him; for every enemy standing before him reminds him of that hated, yet beloved face.

What should the reader look forward to in the next installment, the sequel titled, The Two Empires?

The first book, ‘Princes of the East’ covers the period of childhood and early education as future leaders of Bithynia.  ‘The Two Empires” sees our two princes separated and pursuing very different lives as they grow to adulthood: Sahelis installed in the home of  Priscus Attalus in Ravenna as a royal hostage; and Saheris, the smaller but more fierce, accompanies his grandfather Saher northwest to forge marriage alliances with Munduk’s allies in Pannonia, and meets head-on the tragic destiny of his family at the center of an empire-wide conflict.

Princes of the East, Excerpt:

The walk from behind the lodge at Berayn ran across a narrow ravine only a short distance before another, far more modest dwelling appeared in the shadowy gloom of the pines, built into the hillside. Saher schooled himself to walk at a normal, strolling pace, as though at leisure along the local village road in search of wood or taking exercise at noonday. He was still feeling the surge of manic energy as he approached his second full day without rest or food, and his excitement was heightened by the nearness to his goal. Frustration slipped from him as he picked his way along the winding, worn trail, still moist with morning dew. Suwetus proceeded behind him some hundred paces, concealed, lest someone at the house was watching in the direction of Berayn for intruders approaching. 

Nothing stirred, and Saher came right up against the front stoop without detecting any movement from within. Could it be that he had managed to take Berayn without alarming Woldavy? The thought warmed him. It was about time that fortune turned in his direction.

He moved his collar to conceal the now-cleaned wound, loosely swathed in a red neck cloth. He was dressed as an Illyrian now, in the loose-fitting tunic and trousers of his carefree youth on the Drilon. He imagined himself now as a youth, a new father once again, yearning to see the miracle that was a new life from his own life. For a moment he remembered sitting with Daner, talking with him about the migrations of the Illyrians from their seaside home on the Aegean Sea, before the Minoans exiled them and forced them into the mountains north of Thessaloniki, before the long, slow decline of the Greek empire and its destruction by Rome. The history of Illyria, as it was then called, was a fascination for Saher, and in youth he sat with Daner for hours, asking him to tell stories of the hostages of Minos and how they escaped to Macedon and later to the inaccessible mountains. The poems were known then only as the tales of the Hostages, or Homeroi, as they were known in Achaea, and Illyria was written into the Roman histories as Ilium. But Daner knew the older story of their people, as it was known only to them. Perhaps behind that still door, Saher thought, would be a child I can pass these tales along to, so he will come to know how his people came to dwell here. 

He hesitated at the door, and listened. The cumulative sound of water, birds, and small animals foraging blotted out any subtle sound from within. He pushed the door open, with a glance backward toward Suwetus, who stood concealed behind one of the larger pines near the side of the alpine trail. 

There appeared to be no one about. He strode through the neat hallway, past the open doorway of the kitchen, which was clean and empty, with signs of recent cooking. He stopped and listened once again, but heard nothing discernible. 

At the end of a narrow beamed hallway, stood a closed door. He approached in stealth, and pressed his hand carefully but firmly against it; it gave way, with a small creak. 

For a moment, he thought they were all dead, cut down in the night, so still did they all lay. Propped in a chair by the window, facing the valley below, sat a woman of middle years, deeply asleep, lightly snoring. Her hand rested on a small wooden cradle where lay a newborn, likewise asleep. On a nearby bed, another child, a boy, by his clothing, no more than a year old, also lay, but as Saher watched he could see the child slept fitfully. Next to him, hand curled around his neck, was a small girl of about five years, face flushed with sleep. They most likely had had a sleepless night, and though they had been up and dressed, were not able to stay awake to wait for Sahera’s return before falling back into bed. Saher made a quick visual inspection of the room for signs of weapons or an alarum, and found none. So, Sahera had not been quite as thorough as she might have been. She clearly did not expect any intrusion

. 

Saher carefully retraced his steps from the room and inspected the other rooms of the house. They were the only inhabitants. Good.  He returned to the room and as quietly as possible, seated himself at the far side of the window in a companion seat, most likely the seat Sahera used when she came to visit. There he waited, resuming his contemplation of his childhood. 

An hour passed, and gradually, the little boy blinked and began to stir. Then he sat up, regarding Saher with the stern, incurious gaze of one who is not yet awake. Thus they sat, eyeing one another. Saher was tempted to speak, but did not. It was unlikely that the child had enough speech to communicate anything meaningful, and it would alarm the nurse and the other children prematurely. Eventually, the child slid down from the bed, sat down on the rug, and began to pull at a hank of yarn that had escaped from the nurse’s bag. She had been mending. In a deep study, the child began to unwind the skein, glancing every few moments at Saher to see if he was watching him. Saher obediently observed as he unwound the skein loop by loop, creating an ever-larger, tangled pile of red yarn which accumulated in his lap and on the rug around him. He made no sound.

Then the girl woke, suddenly, and jumped up in the bed. "Who are you?" she said loudly. Saher did not answer right away, but looked to the woman, to see if she had awakened at the girl’s voice. She had not. 

"Who do you think I am?" he replied enigmatically, keeping his voice low. 

"I’m sure I don’t know." 

"Then who are you?" Saher asked. 

"I am Placidia Gratia Bellianus," she announced grandly, flourishing a hand about her as she sat, legs splayed out on the bed. 

"You are the daughter of Priscus Bellianus?" Saher replied.

She nodded. "The eldest. These are my brothers, Saherius and the new baby Sahelius." 

"And who is your mother?" he pressed her, trying to keep the urgency from his voice.

At his question, however, her eyes fell suddenly fell. "My mother died of plague when I was still a baby, and I was sent here until the plagues had ended." Then she looked up again suddenly, full of hope. "Have the plagues ended in Rome?" 

Saher assured her that the plagues had long ended, while privately he mused as to her true parentage. She could be Sahera’s; Sahera might have lacked the courage to end the life of a girl child, but she would have no compunction about fabricating a story that would disown her. 

"And what of their mother?" Saher asked, indicating the busy toddler and the sleeping infant. 

Placidia made a sudden unpleasant face. "The wicked woman," she said. She brings me sweets but I refuse them. A gypsy from Illyricum, my father says. We are in her care here." Placidia piped forth intelligence as though at a recital, mouthing the adult words she had heard spoken by her elders. One need never converse with the original speaker if a curious child stands nearby, Saher had often observed, because they cannot be held from repeating all they hear, with painstaking accuracy. 

"And if I gave you a sweet would you refuse mine as well?" Saher asked, suddenly coy. 

"It depends. Are you a soldier?" 

"I have been, but not now." 

"My father says I should never trust a soldier. They have filthy habits and like to carry off pretty girl children to be their whores when they go to war." Saher almost laughed aloud. How much he learns of Bellianus from his voluble daughter! Now if the nurse could be prevented from waking due to her chatter... 

Saher rose quietly, and leaned toward Placidia, speaking in a confidential voice. "Now if you wish, I will go to the kitchen and find you some sweets, but we must not wake your nurse." 

Placidia laughed loudly then, and bounced up off the bed onto her feet. "That’s not my nurse! I’m too old for a nurse. That is Wesdana Woldavy, and she is as deaf as a lizard." She followed Saher readily out of the room and into the kitchen. 

"So tell me who you are," Placidia persisted, tugging on his hand as Saher began a methodical and quiet search for sweets in the kitchen. 

"Oh. I am a friend of your grandfather. Do you know Priscus Attalus?" 

"I have never met him," she said. "He stayed in Italy during the plagues."

Saher nodded, still searching the room, and discovered some dried plums wrapped in cloth. "Would you like one of these?" he asked. She nodded, and plucked it out of his hands, taking a huge bite that filled her mouth. 

"Placidia" he said as she chewed hungrily, "I am to meet Bellianus at Berayn, which is across the ravine." 

"I know where Berayn is," she said haughtily, letting bits of fruit and sugar drop from her lips and wiping them with the back of her hand.

"He asked me to make sure that you went to him at Dyrrachium right away." 

"At last!" she cried, inadvertently spitting out bits of half-chewed plum in a spray around her. 

"We will need to take your brothers as well. Can you help me bring them to Berayn to wait for your father?" 

"Will she be coming?" She meant Sahera. 

"The wicked one?" he inquired with a conspiratorial look. 

"Yes, her." 

"I suppose that is up to me. I could make her stay behind at Berayn, I suppose."

"Oh could you?" The little girl threw her arms around him in supplication, pulling at the sides of his coat. "She makes my father weep with her rages. And she’s a terrible mother. She slaps Heri for the least thing. My father hates it when she does that." 

"We shall see," Saher replied evasively, and turned again toward the sitting room and the sleeping Woldavy. Placidia pushed ahead of him and went to Saherius, whose arms were now deeply entangled in the coils of yarn. He was twisting about and beginning to fuss. Saher reached deftly across the still snoring woman and picked up the deeply sleeping Sahelius. They were already at the door when the Moesian woman started suddenly from her sleep and whirled around in her seat. 

Saher continued out rapidly through the door, waving with a free hand for Placidia to hurry and follow. She obediently tugged at the little boy’s hand, and he haltingly followed, with the slow, tentative gait of one who has just learned to walk. Even so, they were far too quick for the sleepy Woldavy, who was just struggling to her feet as Saher gained the outside door with his little entourage. He could not restrain a wide grin as they stepped out into the sunlight. 

"Shall I take Saherius as well? We can then go much faster," he offered, reaching down to scoop up the boy in his free arm. 

"All right," said Placidia. "But let me carry the baby. You might drop him." Saher carefully handed Sahelius to the girl, and, hoisting the larger child onto his shoulder, strode rapidly down the trail toward the amazed Suwetus, who had broken cover to stand, gawking, in the middle of the path. Placidia ran to keep pace, her burden held tightly in both arms. He opened his mouth to speak, and Saher silenced him with a look. 

"Look, it is my servant, Mellitus. Mellitus, this is Placidia, the daughter of our friend Bellianus. She is going with us to Dyrrachium." 

Suwetus’ look of surprise did not abate. "Dyrrachium?"

"We will stop for dinner at Berayn and wait for Bellianus to join us," he added quickly. Suwetus nodded. 

"Oh, that would be good!" Placidia said, having lost her plum in their rapid retreat. "Our horses will need to be readied, and my father might be late arriving, so there is lots of time to eat." 

Saher felt a curious dreamlike feeling, as though his play-acting with the little Roman girl had taken on an odd solidity in the past several moments. However, the brief illusion was shattered when the door Saher had slammed shut flew open, and Wesdana Woldavy flew out of it, shouting and waving her arms. 

"What are you doing!" she shouted. You cannot take those children! Don’t you know that the child is the Senator’s son?" She rushed down the path toward them, hands gesticulating wildly. "The Princess Sahera will find you and then you will be sorry!" she screamed. 

"I’m already sorry!" Saher called back to her, and they strode quickly down through the shady ravine, leaving her behind. 

Suwetus spoke. "What child is the Senator’s son?" 

Saher shrugged. "I imagine we’re going to have to find that out. Better have someone go get that woman and bring her to the garrison. I don’t want Sah -I don’t want her causing any trouble." He signaled a gesture of silence at Suwetus over the girl’s head. The secretary nodded and did not reply. 

When they arrived a short time later at Berayn, Saher addressed Suwetus again with his suddenly-invented name, "Mellitus, would you fix these children something to eat? I must go attend to some things. I will send someone to look after them shortly." "Mellitus" nodded, and took the compliant boy from Saher’s shoulder, where he was already dozing once again. "I will send Tethys to look after the babe, and they should all be examined to see they are fit and healthy." With this, Saher bounded up the stairs and once again entered the bedchamber where less than a day ago Sahera had attacked him. How a lifetime passes in a day and a night, he mused to himself as he looked down upon the still-sleeping girl. 

Heklitis rose as he entered. "She sleeps more restfully, and will soon wake," he said without preamble. 

"Send Tethys to the kitchen," Saher said from the door. "The infant, his older brother, and a young girl all await his care." Saher then clapped Heklitis on both shoulders and smiled in pure joy. "Today, I am twice a grandfather," beaming widely at the shocked surprise that passed over the Greek’s face. Then he laughed.   "Now, for a brief time, I may rest. Wake me when the lamps are lit, if I am not already about, or when Sahera wakes. It may be another long watch tonight." Saher turned from the wordless Heklitis and descended the stairs, to take an empty pallet in a corner of the hallway next to several still-sleeping soldiers. He fell asleep instantly.

From Chapter 2:  The Senator’s Son

Zollie with three of Van Hine's books: 

Tourmaline, Epistle to the North Americans, and The Erotic Études

Below is a sample of poetry from VanHines poetry books, The Zebratta Poems, Sons of Perdition, and From Voices of the Dead:

from The Zebratta Poems

Trial in Zebratta

Cold from winds on Evan plains
I sought the woods of Lynn
 And there I found Zebratta's shades
And disappeared within.

How often did I wink
When I beheld his ravening smile?
We crouched upon a catwalk
Overlooking Lynn
And we spoke in crowding whispers
Of my agonizing trial
Which would begin in earnest
in Zebratta's gloomy heights
We strategized in secret
As we gazed upon the lights

I winked and turned away
When I beheld his ravening smile
And did not see

The promise of a pointless
Endless trial
So eloquently spoken
In that cruel and broken smile.

 - for Franz Kafka

12-7-90
Seattle


from Sons of Perdition:

Eusebius Goofs Off Again, And Listens to a Tape Recording of Handel From a
Time Warp in the 21st Century

Water Music Suite

The overture begins again
On spinning ochre ribbons
In a garret far away
Orchestras are playing on the rippling water
Just beyond my ears...

I know that master, listen to that string!
Like a flame aburst from coals
Like a mountain's echoing
I am Eusebius, I know that hand
I could sleep within its folds
And never stir again.

I saw the angry violins upon the Danube
The day they climbed in tails and wigs upon that boat!
I lay without a string along the arbored shore
The kiss too much flesh, the want of too much music
Too much music for her simple piccolo.

The strings disliked St. Joseph's music then!
But here it is again
Like preaching from proscenia
The subtle, clever man
Here he is on ochre ribbons
Singing threadlike metal bands
Sliding through my idle hands.

I saw the bitter cellos on the Dnieper
The day they sank that boat!
And the Emperor was laughing, and Eusebius was laughing
For he had no proper instrument to play
But one sweet tender piccolo
Upon a bed of hay.

St. Joseph had a trick on us
He made us write our parts
That was why I sold my bow
And wasted days at hearts
(That was why I played the clavier at night
To rebel against St. Joseph's might)
Eusebius was worst at connotation
Subtlety and innovation
And here's St. Joseph once again, it is disheartening
Forcing me to tune again
I could sleep within its folds
And never stir...

I saw cornets flash upon the Don
The day they moored that boat
Eusebius was found undressed
With someone's married sister
For he had no proper instrument to play
The kiss of too much flesh, the want of too much music
I was much too drunk that day.

The overture begins again
I know the part I play
I spin an ochre ribbon
Orchestras are playing on the open water
Far across the Bay.

Will St. Joseph remember me today
As I play his water music
Across the starry ocean
Far across the Portage Bay
Will he come to scold me, preacher of my nightmares
In this garret where I lay
Punching silver buttons on a deus ex machine
In a most undignified and most unstringlike way
Will he tell Eusebius to raise his bow
And lead the first and second violins
To play that ancient composition
In this frightful modern day?

Have I had enough of lounging
In this most un-German way
Scrounging for a piccolo
Amid a pile of hay?

I feel his breath upon me
Forcing me to wax this bow
For soon I'll wake, and then I'll go
With violin
I'll go
Resume my place nearby his hand
His inner keep, his private band
Eusebius, no longer just a stringless man
In this steel and contrapuntal land
Kissing too much flesh, and wanting too much music
I am much too wise today.

The overture begins again
I know the part I play
I spin an ochre ribbon
In the garret where I lay

Orchestras are playing on the open water
Far across the Portage Bay.

9/26/91
Seattle

From Voices of the Dead, 1999

Terpsichore

Our splendid day, made vivid
By the love and Light of She
Who blesses us with song and story...
Our Muse no more Calliope
But boldly doth advance
The bright Divinity
I have dwelt below in lands
She could not withstand
My love unwrought upon the sterile sand,
Though lust had drawn her down to me
Elysian, sensuous, oh sweet
This is how I love, to sooner greet
The passion in her smile
For this I would endure the end of things,
For she is my bold Imagining.

Terpsichore fair
...for she is bright and fair
Thy bed of love is wedded in the Air.

12-20-99=141=5

Richmond

Here is a cover photo of Tourmaline: Tales of Greenlea County, 
Volume I, 2010

Contact Information for E. Louise van Hine,

Proprietor, Threshold Publishing Company

louisev@zebratta.com

http://zebratta.org/

All rights reserved. Permission is required to copy or disburse any content of Zollies-Spot.