(And I loved the vrious healing scenes Aragorn did in LOTR.)
Why
this focus on healing? The reasons are
many. First, and most obvious, is the
inherent power of a healer and the drama surrounding circumstances in which we
need one. The healer, or doctor in
modern times, is the most powerful person in our lives at the time when we are
most vulnerable. She literally holds the
power of life and death in her hands. We
see the darker side of this power in the early tales of the Robin Hood legend,
where a wounded Robin is either bled to death or poisoned (there are
conflicting version) by a nun of a healing order in whom he has placed his
trust. My folklore professor back in college said that tales that stand the
test of centuries are those that reflect universal hopes and fears. Anyone who has ever been wheeled into an
operating room as the anesthetic takes hold knows that terrible helplessness. Who among us hasn’t hoped for a wise and
sympathetic doctor to make it better?
Healers,
by their very nature, hold special knowledge and special powers, which makes
them perfect for the archetypical role of Wise Old Man/Wise Old Woman, there to
provide aid and guidance. (For more on
this and other archetypes in writing, see Christopher Vogler’s The Writer’s
Journey and The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers.) The healer king is practically its own
archetype, a reminder that with power and privilege comes responsibility, a
hope that those who rule act in our interests.
After all, what is more benevolent than a healer?
Healing,
and the need for it, can be a useful plot device. The quest for healing or some healing
talisman or potion can drive an entire story arc, or can force a character on a
side trip where they will make an important discovery. In my award-winning debut novel The Stolen
Luck, trust between Loren and James only builds when Loren is injured and must
rely on James for his healing.
Healing
can be a potent symbol supporting a book’s overall theme. Fiction, with rare exception, is about
change— the protagonist is not the same at the end of the book as he was in the
beginning: wiser, braver, nobler, or in darker tales more jaded, more hopeless,
more committed to evil. Often, a
character needs to be healed in a symbolic sense, and physical healing can echo
or support that theme. In my urban
fantasy Ravensblood, Corwyn Ravenscroft, or Raven, is a dark
mage who discovers he still has a conscience and is trying to find his way back
to the light. His soul is torn and in
need of healing.
Though
Cass is still attracted to Raven, the anger and the sense of betrayal are
stronger. Above all, she doesn’t trust him, and she fears that all her hard-won
progress toward winning the respect and trust of her colleagues will be destroyed
if she’s seen with him. Cass tells Raven that she isn’t about to be the same
kind of fool twice, and sends him on his way.
Raven,
without other viable option and desperate to escape all that he is and was born
to be, attempts to take his own life. But a mistimed suicide message brings
Cass to his side while he still lives. She can’t deny his sincerity while she
is kneeling in his blood, trying to stop the flow from his wrists. Cass uses her own healing talent in attempt
to save him, and when that isn’t enough, she enlists the aid of her aunt. Ana is a healer and member of the Joint
Council and had been one of Raven’s teachers in his youth.
Ana
saves his life and offers him a chance at redemption by working for the Council
as a spy against his master, the darkest and most powerful mage of their time. Cass doubts whether they should trust him so
far.
Cass
closed her eyes. “Okay, maybe at the moment he wants to leave William. But I
know Raven. He loves nothing more than himself and his own power. How long will
it be before that comes to the fore once again?”
Ana shook her head. “Remember what
I taught you of healing? Knowledge and technique will get you so far, but
ultimately you have to close your eyes and trust your instincts.”
The wind gusted, rippling the lake.
Cass shivered. “We’re not talking about healing now, though.”
Ana smiled. “Aren’t we?”
Cass considered the question. Like
many of her aunt’s teaching questions, it had many layers and more than one
answer.
“Corwyn has been hurt, too,” Ana
said. “He’s as confused and scared as you are.”
Cass snorted. “I don’t think he is
capable of any of the above.”
Ana shook her head. “That’s your
anger speaking. He has emotions, even if he refuses to admit them to himself or
anyone else. You know that, or you would have never taken him as a lover.”
“I was young and stupid.”
Ana stood and put a hand on Cass’s
shoulder. “You may have been young, yes. To my eyes, you still are. But you
were never stupid. We lost Corwyn once to the dark. We have a chance to win him
back. I, for one, am not willing to throw that away.”
So
next time you encounter a healer or a healing scene in a book or movie, pay
attention. It comes from a long, rich
tradition, and there may be more going on than you see on the surface.
P. S. from Veronica: Shawna has the sequel out now: Raven's Wing!
P. S. from Veronica: Shawna has the sequel out now: Raven's Wing!
The Southern Belle's Guide to Witchcraft 
