Hello pilgrims! I can’t tell you how flattered I am that you have all decided to take a look at my more serious writings. The Parliament of Fowls is a particularly ambitious piece for me, as I wrote it in the royal stanza and chose to center the plot upon the wonderful subjects of love and poetry. I’m glad that you all didn’t judge me by Sir Thopas’ Tale or The Tale of Melibee, which was mocked so horrendously by our Host, and instead decided to give me the benefit of the doubt and look into my more well thought-out pieces before you rushed to judgement.
The Parliament of Fowls is meant to illustrate the power of literature and love to inspire us. I must admit, the poet in this story is a bit like me; shy, hesitant to speak out and painfully romantic, in spite of his modesty and embarassment around women. Yet the wonderful opportunities literature gives us allows us to experience anything we want. I think I have had some of my most wonderful adventures sitting alone at my desk in my room. Tell me, pilgrims, did you not feel like you were walking through the wonderous, verdant garden alongside our dreaming narrator, amongst the lush, beautiful plants, gorgeous goddesses and carefree and beautiful animals? THAT is the power of literature to transform our reality and give us an escape from our everyday, humdrum lives. The poet in the story is inspired in his dreams by the literature he reads, showing that some of our best experiences can be brought about by our own imagination. The poet in this story is so inspired by his dream that he vows to read as much literature as possible, because he knows how inspiring one little story can be! Chew on that, Host!
I know some of you are angry at me for leaving the end of the story a bit open-ended. Now, what good story-teller does THAT, you ask? Well, I like to leave things a bit open to interpretation for the reader. That’s why literature is so much better than visual art; it leaves so much more to the imagination. In my mind, the pretty little formel decides to fly free, without being tied down to any one tercel to keep her in line. However, some might think this is a bit unpoetic and might want to imagine that after her year of freedom she comes to the decision to marry the higher bred tercel. Believe whatever you want – sometimes it’s not just about what happens in the story, but the experience it provides.
But don’t be mistaken – I am still a diehard romantic at heart. At times it was lonely, as a shy, timid writer afraid to approach women yet fully aware of their divine charms, but as they say, “every pot has a lid.” After years of lonely longing, I found a wonderful wife and we now have a wonderful son, Lowes. The wait is worth it, my friends! Never lose your faith in love.