Creating the Webbd Wheel: Marbles?
In which inspiration strikes ...
I have no idea why marbles are in the Webbd Wheel. I’ve never played or collected marbles. I knew nothing about them. I’ve never given them any thought. The inspiration came from somewhere outside me. One day I decided there needed to be marbles.
So I began to research and bought a couple of books (used) about marbles.
I was fascinated. The history of marbles goes way, way back in most cultures. Marble enthusiasts (called mibsters) have their own jargon and language. Marbles can be called taws, mariddles, or miggies. The names of marble games are even more fun. Cherry pits (Shakespeare is said to have played this one), picking plums, and black snakes. Even the cheats are delightful: bombsies and elephant stomps. Irresistible language for a word junkie like me.
Marbles have been made from various material through the ages, including semi-precious stones. They’ve been very common and inexpensive, like clay marbles, or elaborate and costly works of art, like Vacor de Mexico marbles.
Marble tournaments and championships happen all over the world; rules are formal and strict, often steeped in tradition. Specialists appraise and collect marbles. Antique marbles are extremely valuable. There’s a whole cult of marbles out there I never knew existed.
I was in heaven. Interesting history and a whole new language.
Some marbles are called cats eyes. They’re so common even I had heard of them. Eyes. Odin is said to have one eye. I remembered how Rapunzel’s lover, in some versions of the fairy tale, was blinded by thorns when he fell out of (or was thrown from) her tower …
And so it began.
At this point I have a digital file containing long lists of names for various kinds of marbles, materials from which marbles have been made, names of games and names of cheats. Cheating is apparently an important part of the joy of marbles. I also found a copy online of the tournament rules from 1931. Historically, only men were allowed to play.
Before I knew it, marbles were rolling everywhere on my pages. Odin, who is a dignified, powerful, very old Norse god, collects them. It’s ridiculous, I know, but he does. Why shouldn’t he have a hobby? Many characters, men and women, play them. A travelling peddler collects exotic marbles. A powerful old hag plays marbles and cheats. Her marble bag is made of a man’s … no, never mind. I’m not going to tell you. We’ll get there.
And I couldn’t let go of the eye thing, so a few eyes become magic marbles that help guide and warn characters as they go about their lives.
Marbles. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. But they were essential. You’ll see!
(This essay was published with post #5 of The Hanged Man.)