Thanks for the help. I actually asked my teacher if I could put it as epic poetry, with the structure, but I have to keep it this way just for the essay.
The change of point of view is supposed to represent the things which are not told in MacBeth directly and we only hear about them from other people’s conversations.
Sci Fi & Fantasy / Mac and Beth: A Descent Through History
A cold chill invaded the room as the brothers look at each other knowingly for the Great Hannibal was standing out of Rome horribly. They knew that his beauty was created by the devil, who devised his battle plans to be almost clever, as for the two angel brothers Mac and Beth mo place in Lucifer’s tactics was firmly set.
The majestic creature, angel Mac, put the sword of fire into his hand and said: “Brother, the time has come.”
Beth nodded as the same thought in his mind he had found. So they took off, their plain wings reflecting the light as they circled Rome in the middle of the night. Then they descended to guard the gate, and so Hannibal, the creature of hate.
They say that the battle between Hannibal, Mac and Beth was as epic and cruel as any could get. Next day people celebrated the glorious win and all the praise they gave to Him.
Mac was flying through the clouds when he saw, a creature of such beauty and grace that he, in awe, stopped beating his wings, only then remembering the surrounding. As he finally managed to take control of his body he resumed in his study of the lady up ahead. “Beth, do you know her?” he then said.
“No, but I’m sure we’ll see, just what her business here might be,” was the immediate reply from his brother as they quickly looked at each other.
When she was still a fair distance away, she opened her mouth to say: “Welcome Mac, Beth- the winners of the battle of Rome. Such a shame no one will praise you on Earth or at home. Your actions will never recognize ’till you’ll break free from these binds. Don’t do everything that He says but what you want all these days. When Joan will claim it was Him who helped her my advice to you, I pray, you’ll remember.”
With those words she disappeared and Mac, thinking the situation a bit too weird, looked at the angel next to him and nodded to his kin.
“Let’s go,” and he started flying again, “let those words be forgotten before we’ll start playing their game.”
Nobody really knows why the great Joan of Arc had to meet her end so soon, so dark. Most blame her own people but no one can hop to see through the webs of conspiracies and lies in those horrid times. Some say Joan is responsible for her fall, for praising Him more than before.
“look at out hands, brother, I see blood,” Beth said and wished that he had lies but the liquid was thick and red, reminding him why he felt so sad.
“There is no coming back so hid your tears. From now on we loose our fears,” Mac replied quite cal, and went to sing another psalm.
Beth still stood there, mesmerized by his sin. He remembered the girl so fair, putting all trust in him. Now her blood was on his hands, his legs and his underpants. Dizzy from all the thoughts, he closed his eyes, praying to stop hearing Joan’s last cries.
It was a time of blood and war. It was the time to fight a man’s foe. For out enemies had what He gave us and to die for that they must. The Promise Land was what we fought for, yet the soldier’s always wanted more. Seven deadly crusades were won and lost but in the end we did not prevail against out host. Their deadly army led by two angels from the sky caused ours to crumble and our believes to die. For how were we to believe that His favour rests with us when Angles of Havoc cremate us to dust.
Many years we struggled to win this fight. Every man worked hard day and night. But the two angel brothers we could not defeat and so I follow others who returned home in times of need.
Mac watched his brother kill the last crusader. It was Beth who killed all the enemy in this war- a feat never seen or heard of before. One man killed not one army but seven although he did fall from heaven. Still the powers they had were oh, so great. They could even start carving their own fate.
Mac looked around the battlefield, smelled the air and was joined by his brother as they laughed in pair. The was over thanks to them, tow angels greater than any men.
But soon Beth stopped laughing as he shouted: “Joan! Please forgive me, I never wanted to leave you so alone.”
Mac looked at him with a frown, he never saw his brother so down. It seemed that although the war hasn’t left a on Beth a mark he still could not forget Joan of Arc.
“Beth , stop shouting like a fool or I’ll tell mammy that today you’ve skipped school,” Mac said as he realized that behind them were their ranks who would never to a crazy man give thanks.
“But Mac don’t you see her? She’s right here!”
“Beth I can assure you, she’s nowhere near.”
Mac turned around to address the men who were staring back at them: “He’s too tired, needs some rest. Seven armies even for Beth is a test.”
Then he took off, holding his brother’s hand as their feet left the desert sand. They flew away as far as they could from their troubles, to find some help before they’ll both crumble.
Meg Duff kneed to pray, after witnessing the events of that day. The wooden floor squeaked as she blessed herself and prepared to ask Him for some help. She knew of the angels that have slain her father and were equally as quietly with the death of her brother. With vengeance in mind she recited her lines and still remembered the crimes she said: “Please give me strength to overpower them. Give me wings to outfly them. Give me two swords so I can fight them both. Let me restore glory to You. Make my mind clear so I know what to do.”
Light entered Meg’s room from the cross on the wall, making her feel so strong, so whole. As the blood pumped through her veins Meg began to feel all the greats and strengths she have obtained.
Mac and Beth, the fallen angles, came to a place where they were complete strangers. They approached the gates of Hell, where every angel, part Lucifer, have failed. They could see flames and thorns in their way and so Mac began to say: “Show yourself, oh, Fallen Knight. We are like you, give us your might.”
Slowly, the gates opened with a roar and, from deep within Earth’s core, came a creature of black wings boiling with blood and behind him three beautiful ladies crated a crowd. The fallen angel of a rotting face spoke with such a force Beth could feel the end of days.
“Ever since first man has walked this Earth I have been here
To whisper seeds out doubt and evil thoughts into his ear.
I am the beast, the outcast angel fallen from up high,
I go by many names by there is one you can’t deny…
My name is Satan…whoa, ooh!”
The two angels stood there, dumbstruck by the words that sounded like a blessing but also like a curse. Satan walked closer to them and outstretched his hand. They just closed their eyes, motionless, wishing they were gone. Yet they both knew that the devil here they could not outrun.
Hitler’s worst mistake in Second World War was that he didn’t know what he getting in for when he attacked the USSR as he did not get too far. His error of splitting his army into three, although they say only temporarily, lost him the war, his life and who knows what more.
In the battle of Stalingrad, according to what we know, it was the first time Nazi’s found an undefeatable foe. Some people claim that three angles here rose to fame. However, historians reject this evidence as starvation and fear found in many people its residence. This was nothing but a mass hallucination for people believe in His intervention.
Mac and Beth were flying, bringing food to their soldiers dying. Russians have fired rockets at them but they could not be defeated by the power of men. As long as they could bring the food to the Nazis everything they could have feasts. With plans so easy to hear there was nothing to fear. Theirs was the war and the fame, everyone will remember their name.
Just as they thought they were clear a beating of wing they could hear. From behind them a female angel created immediate danger. Her two swords of fore and water quickly set their mind sober. They quickly drew their own two swords and forgot about the food for Nazi hordes.
Mac, Beth and Meg Duff collided together , the mass of three flying feathers beating metal against metal. Their swordplay amazed the soldiers down below as they cheered and cried all in one go. Meg Duff waited for the final blows as she deflected the attacks from her foes. AS the fallen angels looked puzzled over her great might she cut through their throats to end this fight.
Devil travelled through the history and wanted this story to be the most famous of the all- angles Mac, Beth and their fall. He eventually found this gentleman who promised to give him a hand. So together they sat talking through the story but the gentleman received all the glory. And because he was a little deaf he created a story of MacBeth.
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Warriorbreed reviewed Version 1 -
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Nytefist7 reviewed Version 1 -
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First off, the rhyming is really annoying and forces you into word choices that are often a stretch in relation to the rest of the sentence. If part of the assignment was making it rhyme then you should put it in Poetry. The story seems to be stream of consciousness and has no real sense of structure. It’s a mish-mash of quasi-historical/classical fragments. The central thought of Angels interfering in history is kind of neat, but you need to display it better.
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stephanloy reviewed Version 1 -
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You obviously had some fun writing this, so there may be little point in any in-depth criticism. After all, the goal has been achieved. However, in case you are looking for means by which to improve the piece, I offer the following suggestions. Regarding the rhyming scheme, consider the source from which you’re coming. Shakespeare’s work is either entirely in dialogue (his plays) or entirely in verse (his poetry). He wrote no prose. So, to emulate his rhyming schemes in a prose work, you would necessarily have to make some alterations. For that, I would direct you to Homer. In your piece, you allow the rhymes to fall pretty much anywhere. This makes the piece difficult to read because the reader has no visual guide through which to find the rhythm. I suggest you format the piece as epic poetry, arranging the lines so that the rhyme falls always at the end of the line. This may also impose a rhythm of syllables for each line. It would make the work flow easier for the reader.
In an unrelated problem, the work is also made more difficult to read due to the frequent and rapid changes in point of view. You move quickly through the angels’ point of view to a narrator’s summary of events, back to the angels or some other character and once more to the periodic encapsulating voice of the narrator. It would be best, I think, to keep the entire work in the narrator’s point of view. Again, look to Homer.
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