In the year 1593, Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, arranges for William Shakespeare—one of his more inspired pupils—to host a play for special guests: The Elves of Faerie, one of Dream’s many dominions, appear through a special portal, intrigued by the invitation.
Dream’s goal? He wants to mend a century-old rift. No longer on good terms with King Oberon and Queen Titania, he seeks to make amends so two parts of a larger whole may collaborate once more. The play is a success. The Elves laugh, cry, clap, and delight. But they still don’t fully understand the purpose of their summoning.
“We thank you, Shaper,” the king says, calling the Sandman by one of his many names, “but this diversion is not true. Things never happened thus.” The play may be a good play, but the story it tells is different from Faerie’s actual history.
Dream has another idea, however: “No, but it is true. Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes and forgot.” “Why dwell on the past?” Morpheus seems to ask. “Why not instead aspire to a brighter future?” In this case, that future would have humanity honor the elves for the remainder of an age—and remember them for the kind and dutiful people they aspire to be. Isn’t that more useful than retelling an old drama with a bad ending?
In Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t, Steven Pressfield admitted: “I never wrote anything good until I stopped trying to write the truth. I never had any real fun either. Truth is not the truth. Fiction is the truth.” Pressfield explains how, when he wrote a prison story, someone pulled him aside and asked him: “Steve, when did you do time?” If good stories only came from actual experiences, the world of literature would not be as vast and magical as it is.
And so it goes that, sometimes, the story we need the most may not have happened, but it can still hold the truth that will allow us to move forward.
And for Dream? Well, even though they can’t put it into words, the Elves still intuitively grasp this idea that he and Steven Pressfield share. Accordingly goes their response, a response that finally puts a strained relationship back on track after hundreds of years: “We are honored, Shaper. And you will always be welcome in our land.”