Mirror/Window
Alex Beinfield
Much of my early childhood was spent as a knight. I would parade around the house, plastic sword in hand, always ready to rescue the fair maiden from the dragons clutches. In addition to the sword, I touted a helmet, chest plate, and a small roller horse which acted as my noble steed. My friends and I would always play "knights." Naturally, my first choice of profession was to be a knight (being a "construction man" was a close second). Although I have changed slightly since the age of five, Louis L'Amour's, The Walking Drum seemed like an obvious choice for me when it appeared on the reading list. L'Amour weaves a story line which might rival the best historical adventure novels. The 12th century comes alive through the eyes of the young and strong Kerbouchard. Kerbouchard is the archetype for a knight. He is "broad of shoulder" as well as handsome, and gallant. The story begins as his family is terrorized by the Baron de Tournemine. Tournemine, the classic antagonist, kidnaps Kerbouchard's father and so Kerbouchard's daunting task of unfettering his farther acts as the driving force behind his bravery.
While reading The Walking Drum I did wonder to myself if I could have displayed such courage if thrown into some of the situations that Kerbouchard endured. Finally, it occurred to me that his fetes were of sub-human caliber. He alone battled many men throuought the story, and he escaped from some of the most dire predicaments. His valor resembles that of an Achilles or Diomedes. Consequently, while I would like to believe that my fortitude would rival Kerbouchard's, I doubt that I, nor most mortals would be able to display such potent combinations of skill and bravery during the most daunting of situations.
My boyhood was filled with aspirations to achieve some of the knightly prominence obtained by Kerbouchard. However, while I would like to see in him a mirror, it becomes clear that I enjoyed The Walking Drum through the lense of a window.