Harbinger
/ˈhɑːbɪn(d)ʒə/
Everyone thinks a Harbinger is all about death or even Death him/her /themselves (it’s hard to ‘genderise’ the Harbinger as he/she/they as they appear different to each and everyone).
No one thinks of a Harbinger as being something or someone that announces beauty, hope and joy. For example, and I am not just saying this, I’ve checked the Dictionary.
A Harbinger can announce the seasons such as Spring, Summer, Autum and my favourite Winter. They can announce the beginning of a work of Joy such as a new opera, a new symphony, or a piece of Rock & Roll.
They can announce the birth of a child, the news that you have been selected and/or shortlisted for a prize as well as news of Stage 4 Cancer.
You see everyone thinks it’s all doom and gloom when it comes to the Harbinger, even the Great Pratchett Himself, made it all about Death. and I want to change it. I want to change people’s views.
I see Harbinger as something or someone who has multiple meanings, multifaceted, and multi-complex. Someone who is much more and less two-dimensional than the one found on the page.
Take me, for example, I see my role as more of a Herald, as a messenger, one who comes and brings a better kind of news. News of change, news of a new social order. News of Peace on Earth and all that. I like to believe that I am more of an agent of conflict resolution, than one of destruction
Yes in the early days, I’ll be the first to admit, there were a few mistakes. I hold my hands up to that. I may have been a tad over the top, and let the small fact I ruled a fifth of the Heaven Hosts and was Commander of two million or so, go to my head. But now, I’ m changed Harbinger and that’s what I really want to say.
I’m changed. I appreciate the Joys of Spring and the smell of newborn lambs, cooked to perfection.
I appreciate the sound of new symphonies, new operas, or even those annoying chart-topping song that gets the kids all high and sweaty.
I appreciate the cry of newborn babies taking their first breath in war-torn rubble, of women using scissors to cut their hair before the black-clothed men beat them to death. Of people opening their homes to refugees fleeing regime change, then making the homeless because they can’t cope with the trauma.
I appreciate the sounds of celebration as men, women and children see the White Cliffs in the distance before the weight of their hope and dreams sink the unseaworthy dinghies.
See, just as I told you, I Am a new Harbinger, remade, remodelled, and reenvisioned for a modern time.
For Trish Nicholds amazing piece check out https://trishnichol.com/harbinger/
The Delightful Mrs P 