Antonio Pires (LUGARES-COMUNS DA LÍRICA, ONTEM E HOJE Antônio Donizeti PIRES*) de

Araraquara diz o seguinte:

LINGUAGEM – Estudos e Pesquisas, Catalão, vols. 10-11 – 2007

Grosso modo, Trousson atribui caráter mais geral ao motivo (é não literário, a princípio, pois
interessa também a outras áreas do conhecimento, como a psicanálise); o motivo, enfim, se
particulariza no tema (torna-se literário), e este é que estrutura, com sua especificidade, a
obra literária (poema, tragédia, conto...). Já o mito é, por natureza, narrativo. É também fonte
de conhecimento, é fator de coesão de dada coletividade, é temporalmente cíclico e funda o
arsenal de crenças, ideologias e práticas de um povo, tal qual os mitos gregos. Em palavras do
estudioso:

O que é um motivo? Escolhemos denominar assim um conceito vasto, designando quer uma
certa atitude – por exemplo a revolta – quer uma situação de base, impessoal, em que os
actores não foram ainda individualizados – por exemplo as situações do homem entre duas
mulheres, da oposição entre dois irmãos, entre pai e filho, da mulher abandonada, etc. Trata-
se de situações já delimitadas nas suas linhas essenciais, de atitudes já definidas, de tipos
mesmo – por exemplo o revoltado ou o sedutor – mas que continuam no estado de noções
gerais, de conceitos. [...] O que é um tema? Estabelecemos denominar assim a expressão
particular de um motivo, a sua individualização ou, se se quiser, a passagem do geral ao
particular. (TROUSSON, 1988, p. 19-20; grifos nossos)

TROUSSON [SUJEITO BELGA] TEMAS E MITOS (1981)

Em suma, o motivo, elemento não literário, mas delimitando algumas situações e atitudes
fundamentais, é matéria da literatura. [...] O tema, cristalização e particularização de um
motivo, é logo de início objecto literário, porque ele não existe senão a partir do momento em
que o motivo se exprimiu numa obra, tornada ponto de partida de uma série de outras obras
mais ou menos importantes, o ponto de partida de uma tradição literária. (p. 22)

KAYSER:

ção no campo literário. Constata-se, a partir dos exemplos acima, extraídos de Trousson, que
os motivos e seu desdobramento em temas são vincados pela ação (dramática, sobretudo),
mas há, conforme ressalta Wolfgang Kayser em Análise e interpretação da obra literária
(1985), a utilização de motivos na lírica: nesta, a transcendência, ou a perfeita adequação dos
motivos “[...] não consiste [...] no desenvolvimento da situação de acordo com uma acção, mas
sim em se tornarem vivência para uma alma humana, em se prolongarem interiormente na
sua íntima vibração.” (KAYSER, 1985, p. 59). Para demonstrar a assertiva, Kayser analisa a
presença do motivo da noite em quatro poetas de literaturas e épocas diferentes (Addison,
Eichendorff, Marquesa de Alorna e Baudelaire), evidenciando a maneira pessoal como cada
poeta, a partir das concepções estéticas de seu tempo e espaço, lidou com o problema. Pois,
conforme pleiteiam Machado e Pageaux (e como é intenção deste trabalho mostrar, através
mais do exemplário do que da análise), “[...] um tema tratado na época da Renascença, por
exemplo, não pode ter a mesma expressão literária que na época romântica.” (MACHADO &
PAGEAUX, 1982, p. 90).

Leitmotive e topoi:

No plano dos motivos, há ainda os Leitmotive (literalmente, motivos condutores), que são
caracterizados por Kayser como “[...] os motivos centrais que se repetem LINGUAGEM –
Estudos e Pesquisas, Catalão, vols. 10-11 – 2007 numa obra, ou na totalidade da obra, de um
poeta.” (KAYSER, 1985, p. 69). Utilizado a princípio na ópera de Wagner, por certo como mais
um indício em sua busca pela obra de arte total, presidida pelo consórcio da poesia lírica e da
música, o Leitmotiv pode ser encontrado não apenas no drama ou na lírica, mas também nos
vários tipos de narrativa, no cinema, na música. Enfim, é ainda Kayser quem nos oferece, via
Curtius, uma clara definição de topoi (tópicos ou lugarescomuns): Curtius chama-lhe
‘investigação de topos’ (Toposforschung). Topos são ‘clichés fixos ou esquemas do pensar e da
expressão’ provenientes da literatura antiga e que, através da literatura do latim medieval,
penetraram nas literaturas das línguas vernáculas da Idade-Média e, mais tarde, no
Renascimento e no período barroco. (p. 70; grifos e aspas do autor).

Antonio pires assim define Topoi:

Os topoi não foram utilizados apenas pela lírica, mas também pelo drama e pela elaboração
retórica dos discursos, como já veremos. Contudo, para efeito de clareza, estabeleçamos que
os topoi se aproximam dos motivos. Melhor dizendo, são t
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ur origins are wrapped in the origins of vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick.
The many ways to say and spell it should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These
faiths arose because the authorities running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals.
The slaves created a new faith based on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman
Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no
difference between these faiths, ask your Christian friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists,
and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline was born out of the slave trade that fueled
North American expansion. The plantation owners of the Caribbean brutalized their workers
during the day, and we terrorized the workers at night. We took advantage of the isolated
locations to become small kings of petty domains. Travelling by boat was a treacherous
proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with few spaces untouched by the sun
aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred claimed whatever small piece of solid
land they touched as soon as possible. A rare few were able to adapt seized ships from slavers
and took to the sea as pirates. Our unfortunate appearance often makes other Kindred think
we’re Nosferatu. They were certainly on the slave ships, preying on the unfortunates huddled
in the holds. I’ll admit, I’ve taken advantage of the confusion, especially

when passing through a domain where I don’t feel like answering too many questions about
who I am and what I’m doing there. You have to be careful, when dealing with the sewer rats,
however. They may want you to think they are piteous and harmless, but they can be just as
vicious as the pretty ones when push comes to shove. There was another Clan that rivaled the
Nosferatu’s terrible visage; one whose name we don’t even mention. They were also
associated with death for most of their existence. And yet, if we were truly descended from
them, why not just claim their name and all the glory and prestige associated with it? Because
nothing comes for free. Those that came before had their own baggage. We don’t need to
make claims to a long dead Clan, and we certainly don’t need the problems that such an ego
boost brings with it. Speaking of problems… This shall-not-be-named Clan was supposedly the
one that the Giovanni usurped within the last millennium. The old necromancers walked
between the living and the dead. They could control those spirits weak enough (or foolish
enough) to let themselves be bound, and perhaps could have even done more, had they not
been so distracted by their earthly whims. That is why we respect the loa, while not having any
real use for ghosts or their puppet-masters. Mere ghosts are just the reflections of humans
unable to outrun death. The loa have existed forever and shown the cleverness needed to take
power as gods. The Giovanni had potential, but instead squandered it on fine clothes, foolish
vices, and selfish desires.

LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 85

To which of these Clans do we belong? Only an outsider would ask such a rude question. All
three Clans had a hand in making us what we are tonight. We belong to Samedi, in the same
way that a Toreador belong to their namesake. Except in our case, the true name of our
founder hasn’t been lost to time and replaced with a word created to not draw the attention
of a sleeping undead god. We are still on good terms with our founder. The Baron is young
enough to still walk alongside us in the shadows, yet his wisdom is ancient enough to walk with
the loa in their power and understanding. We are His. ur origins are wrapped in the origins of
vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick. The many ways to say and spell it
should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These faiths arose because the authorities
running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals. The slaves created a new faith based
on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a
few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no difference between these faiths, ask your Christian
friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists, and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline
was born out of the slave trade that fueled North American expansion. The plantation owners
of the Caribbean brutalized their workers during the day, and we terrorized the workers at
night. We took advantage of the isolated locations to become small kings of petty domains.
Travelling by boat was a treacherous proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with
few spaces untouched by the sun aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred
claimed whatever small piece of solid land they touched as soon as possible. A rare few were
able to adapt seized ships from slavers and took to the sea as pirates. Our unfortunate
appearance often makes other Kindred think we’re Nosferatu. They were certainly on the slave
ships, preying on the unfortunates huddled in the holds. I’ll admit, I’ve taken advantage of the
confusion, especially

when passing through a domain where I don’t feel like answering too many questions about
who I am and what I’m doing there. You have to be careful, when dealing with the sewer rats,
however. They may want you to think they are piteous and harmless, but they can be just as
vicious as the pretty ones when push comes to shove. There was another Clan that rivaled the
Nosferatu’s terrible visage; one whose name we don’t even mention. They were also
associated with death for most of their existence. And yet, if we were truly descended from
them, why not just claim their name and all the glory and prestige associated with it? Because
nothing comes for free. Those that came before had their own baggage. We don’t need to
make claims to a long dead Clan, and we certainly don’t need the problems that such an ego
boost brings with it. Speaking of problems… This shall-not-be-named Clan was supposedly the
one that the Giovanni usurped within the last millennium. The old necromancers walked
between the living and the dead. They could control those spirits weak enough (or foolish
enough) to let themselves be bound, and perhaps could have even done more, had they not
been so distracted by their earthly whims. That is why we respect the loa, while not having any
real use for ghosts or their puppet-masters. Mere ghosts are just the reflections of humans
unable to outrun death. The loa have existed forever and shown the cleverness needed to take
power as gods. The Giovanni had potential, but instead squandered it on fine clothes, foolish
vices, and selfish desires.

LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 85

To which of these Clans do we belong? Only an outsider would ask such a rude question. All
three Clans had a hand in making us what we are tonight. We belong to Samedi, in the same
way that a Toreador belong to their namesake. Except in our case, the true name of our
founder hasn’t been lost to time and replaced with a word created to not draw the attention
of a sleeping undead god. We are still on good terms with our founder. The Baron is young
enough to still walk alongside us in the shadows, yet his wisdom is ancient enough to walk with
the loa in their power and understanding. We are His. ur origins are wrapped in the origins of
vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick. The many ways to say and spell it
should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These faiths arose because the authorities
running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals. The slaves created a new faith based
on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a
few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no difference between these faiths, ask your Christian
friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists, and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline
was born out of the slave trade that fueled North American expansion. The plantation owners
of the Caribbean brutalized their workers during the day, and we terrorized the workers at
night. We took advantage of the isolated locations to become small kings of petty domains.
Travelling by boat was a treacherous proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with
few spaces untouched by the sun aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred
claimed whatever small piece of solid land they touched as soon as possible. A rare few were
able to adapt seized ships from slavers and took to the sea as pirates. Our unfortunate
appearance often makes other Kindred think we’re Nosferatu. They were certainly on the slave
ships, preying on the unfortunates huddled in the holds. I’ll admit, I’ve taken advantage of the
confusion, especially

when passing through a domain where I don’t feel like answering too many questions about
who I am and what I’m doing there. You have to be careful, when dealing with the sewer rats,
however. They may want you to think they are piteous and harmless, but they can be just as
vicious as the pretty ones when push comes to shove. There was another Clan that rivaled the
Nosferatu’s terrible visage; one whose name we don’t even mention. They were also
associated with death for most of their existence. And yet, if we were truly descended from
them, why not just claim their name and all the glory and prestige associated with it? Because
nothing comes for free. Those that came before had their own baggage. We don’t need to
make claims to a long dead Clan, and we certainly don’t need the problems that such an ego
boost brings with it. Speaking of problems… This shall-not-be-named Clan was supposedly the
one that the Giovanni usurped within the last millennium. The old necromancers walked
between the living and the dead. They could control those spirits weak enough (or foolish
enough) to let themselves be bound, and perhaps could have even done more, had they not
been so distracted by their earthly whims. That is why we respect the loa, while not having any
real use for ghosts or their puppet-masters. Mere ghosts are just the reflections of humans
unable to outrun death. The loa have existed forever and shown the cleverness needed to take
power as gods. The Giovanni had potential, but instead squandered it on fine clothes, foolish
vices, and selfish desires.

LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 85

To which of these Clans do we belong? Only an outsider would ask such a rude question. All
three Clans had a hand in making us what we are tonight. We belong to Samedi, in the same
way that a Toreador belong to their namesake. Except in our case, the true name of our
founder hasn’t been lost to time and replaced with a word created to not draw the attention
of a sleeping undead god. We are still on good terms with our founder. The Baron is young
enough to still walk alongside us in the shadows, yet his wisdom is ancient enough to walk with
the loa in their power and understanding. We are His. ur origins are wrapped in the origins of
vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick. The many ways to say and spell it
should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These faiths arose because the authorities
running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals. The slaves created a new faith based
on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a
few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no difference between these faiths, ask your Christian
friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists, and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline
was born out of the slave trade that fueled North American expansion. The plantation owners
of the Caribbean brutalized their workers during the day, and we terrorized the workers at
night. We took advantage of the isolated locations to become small kings of petty domains.
Travelling by boat was a treacherous proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with
few spaces untouched by the sun aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred
claimed whatever small piece of solid land they touched as soon as possible. A rare few were
able to adapt seized ships from slavers and took to the sea as pirates. Our unfortunate
appearance often makes other Kindred think we’re Nosferatu. They were certainly on the slave
ships, preying on the unfortunates huddled in the holds. I’ll admit, I’ve taken advantage of the
confusion, especially

when passing through a domain where I don’t feel like answering too many questions about
who I am and what I’m doing there. You have to be careful, when dealing with the sewer rats,
however. They may want you to think they are piteous and harmless, but they can be just as
vicious as the pretty ones when push comes to shove. There was another Clan that rivaled the
Nosferatu’s terrible visage; one whose name we don’t even mention. They were also
associated with death for most of their existence. And yet, if we were truly descended from
them, why not just claim their name and all the glory and prestige associated with it? Because
nothing comes for free. Those that came before had their own baggage. We don’t need to
make claims to a long dead Clan, and we certainly don’t need the problems that such an ego
boost brings with it. Speaking of problems… This shall-not-be-named Clan was supposedly the
one that the Giovanni usurped within the last millennium. The old necromancers walked
between the living and the dead. They could control those spirits weak enough (or foolish
enough) to let themselves be bound, and perhaps could have even done more, had they not
been so distracted by their earthly whims. That is why we respect the loa, while not having any
real use for ghosts or their puppet-masters. Mere ghosts are just the reflections of humans
unable to outrun death. The loa have existed forever and shown the cleverness needed to take
power as gods. The Giovanni had potential, but instead squandered it on fine clothes, foolish
vices, and selfish desires.

LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 85

To which of these Clans do we belong? Only an outsider would ask such a rude question. All
three Clans had a hand in making us what we are tonight. We belong to Samedi, in the same
way that a Toreador belong to their namesake. Except in our case, the true name of our
founder hasn’t been lost to time and replaced with a word created to not draw the attention
of a sleeping undead god. We are still on good terms with our founder. The Baron is young
enough to still walk alongside us in the shadows, yet his wisdom is ancient enough to walk with
the loa in their power and understanding. We are His. ur origins are wrapped in the origins of
vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick. The many ways to say and spell it
should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These faiths arose because the authorities
running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals. The slaves created a new faith based
on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a
few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no difference between these faiths, ask your Christian
friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists, and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline
was born out of the slave trade that fueled North American expansion. The plantation owners
of the Caribbean brutalized their workers during the day, and we terrorized the workers at
night. We took advantage of the isolated locations to become small kings of petty domains.
Travelling by boat was a treacherous proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with
few spaces untouched by the sun aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred
claimed whatever small piece of solid land they touched as soon as possible. A rare few were
able to adapt seized ships from slavers and took to the sea as pirates. Our unfortunate
appearance often makes other Kindred think we’re Nosferatu. They were certainly on the slave
ships, preying on the unfortunates huddled in the holds. I’ll admit, I’ve taken advantage of the
confusion, especially

when passing through a domain where I don’t feel like answering too many questions about
who I am and what I’m doing there. You have to be careful, when dealing with the sewer rats,
however. They may want you to think they are piteous and harmless, but they can be just as
vicious as the pretty ones when push comes to shove. There was another Clan that rivaled the
Nosferatu’s terrible visage; one whose name we don’t even mention. They were also
associated with death for most of their existence. And yet, if we were truly descended from
them, why not just claim their name and all the glory and prestige associated with it? Because
nothing comes for free. Those that came before had their own baggage. We don’t need to
make claims to a long dead Clan, and we certainly don’t need the problems that such an ego
boost brings with it. Speaking of problems… This shall-not-be-named Clan was supposedly the
one that the Giovanni usurped within the last millennium. The old necromancers walked
between the living and the dead. They could control those spirits weak enough (or foolish
enough) to let themselves be bound, and perhaps could have even done more, had they not
been so distracted by their earthly whims. That is why we respect the loa, while not having any
real use for ghosts or their puppet-masters. Mere ghosts are just the reflections of humans
unable to outrun death. The loa have existed forever and shown the cleverness needed to take
power as gods. The Giovanni had potential, but instead squandered it on fine clothes, foolish
vices, and selfish desires.

LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 85

To which of these Clans do we belong? Only an outsider would ask such a rude question. All
three Clans had a hand in making us what we are tonight. We belong to Samedi, in the same
way that a Toreador belong to their namesake. Except in our case, the true name of our
founder hasn’t been lost to time and replaced with a word created to not draw the attention
of a sleeping undead god. We are still on good terms with our founder. The Baron is young
enough to still walk alongside us in the shadows, yet his wisdom is ancient enough to walk with
the loa in their power and understanding. We are His. ur origins are wrapped in the origins of
vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick. The many ways to say and spell it
should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These faiths arose because the authorities
running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals. The slaves created a new faith based
on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a
few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no difference between these faiths, ask your Christian
friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists, and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline
was born out of the slave trade that fueled North American expansion. The plantation owners
of the Caribbean brutalized their workers during the day, and we terrorized the workers at
night. We took advantage of the isolated locations to become small kings of petty domains.
Travelling by boat was a treacherous proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with
few spaces untouched by the sun aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred
claimed whatever small piece of solid land they touched as soon as possible. A rare few were
able to adapt seized ships from slavers and took to the sea as pirates. Our unfortunate
appearance often makes other Kindred think we’re Nosferatu. They were certainly on the slave
ships, preying on the unfortunates huddled in the holds. I’ll admit, I’ve taken advantage of the
confusion, especially

when passing through a domain where I don’t feel like answering too many questions about
who I am and what I’m doing there. You have to be careful, when dealing with the sewer rats,
however. They may want you to think they are piteous and harmless, but they can be just as
vicious as the pretty ones when push comes to shove. There was another Clan that rivaled the
Nosferatu’s terrible visage; one whose name we don’t even mention. They were also
associated with death for most of their existence. And yet, if we were truly descended from
them, why not just claim their name and all the glory and prestige associated with it? Because
nothing comes for free. Those that came before had their own baggage. We don’t need to
make claims to a long dead Clan, and we certainly don’t need the problems that such an ego
boost brings with it. Speaking of problems… This shall-not-be-named Clan was supposedly the
one that the Giovanni usurped within the last millennium. The old necromancers walked
between the living and the dead. They could control those spirits weak enough (or foolish
enough) to let themselves be bound, and perhaps could have even done more, had they not
been so distracted by their earthly whims. That is why we respect the loa, while not having any
real use for ghosts or their puppet-masters. Mere ghosts are just the reflections of humans
unable to outrun death. The loa have existed forever and shown the cleverness needed to take
power as gods. The Giovanni had potential, but instead squandered it on fine clothes, foolish
vices, and selfish desires.

LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 85

To which of these Clans do we belong? Only an outsider would ask such a rude question. All
three Clans had a hand in making us what we are tonight. We belong to Samedi, in the same
way that a Toreador belong to their namesake. Except in our case, the true name of our
founder hasn’t been lost to time and replaced with a word created to not draw the attention
of a sleeping undead god. We are still on good terms with our founder. The Baron is young
enough to still walk alongside us in the shadows, yet his wisdom is ancient enough to walk with
the loa in their power and understanding. We are His. ur origins are wrapped in the origins of
vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick. The many ways to say and spell it
should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These faiths arose because the authorities
running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals. The slaves created a new faith based
on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a
few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no difference between these faiths, ask your Christian
friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists, and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline
was born out of the slave trade that fueled North American expansion. The plantation owners
of the Caribbean brutalized their workers during the day, and we terrorized the workers at
night. We took advantage of the isolated locations to become small kings of petty domains.
Travelling by boat was a treacherous proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with
few spaces untouched by the sun aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred
claimed whatever small piece of solid land they touched as soon as possible. A rare few were
able to adapt seized ships from slavers and took to the sea as pirates. Our unfortunate
appearance often makes other Kindred think we’re Nosferatu. They were certainly on the slave
ships, preying on the unfortunates huddled in the holds. I’ll admit, I’ve taken advantage of the
confusion, especially

when passing through a domain where I don’t feel like answering too many questions about
who I am and what I’m doing there. You have to be careful, when dealing with the sewer rats,
however. They may want you to think they are piteous and harmless, but they can be just as
vicious as the pretty ones when push comes to shove. There was another Clan that rivaled the
Nosferatu’s terrible visage; one whose name we don’t even mention. They were also
associated with death for most of their existence. And yet, if we were truly descended from
them, why not just claim their name and all the glory and prestige associated with it? Because
nothing comes for free. Those that came before had their own baggage. We don’t need to
make claims to a long dead Clan, and we certainly don’t need the problems that such an ego
boost brings with it. Speaking of problems… This shall-not-be-named Clan was supposedly the
one that the Giovanni usurped within the last millennium. The old necromancers walked
between the living and the dead. They could control those spirits weak enough (or foolish
enough) to let themselves be bound, and perhaps could have even done more, had they not
been so distracted by their earthly whims. That is why we respect the loa, while not having any
real use for ghosts or their puppet-masters. Mere ghosts are just the reflections of humans
unable to outrun death. The loa have existed forever and shown the cleverness needed to take
power as gods. The Giovanni had potential, but instead squandered it on fine clothes, foolish
vices, and selfish desires.

LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 85

To which of these Clans do we belong? Only an outsider would ask such a rude question. All
three Clans had a hand in making us what we are tonight. We belong to Samedi, in the same
way that a Toreador belong to their namesake. Except in our case, the true name of our
founder hasn’t been lost to time and replaced with a word created to not draw the attention
of a sleeping undead god. We are still on good terms with our founder. The Baron is young
enough to still walk alongside us in the shadows, yet his wisdom is ancient enough to walk with
the loa in their power and understanding. We are His. ur origins are wrapped in the origins of
vodou, voudoun, hoodoo, or voodoo — take your pick. The many ways to say and spell it
should be the first hint of how adaptable we are. These faiths arose because the authorities
running the slave trades forbade African religious rituals. The slaves created a new faith based
on ideas from West African spirituality, Roman Catholicism, European mysticism, and even a
few Masonic ideals. If you think there’s no difference between these faiths, ask your Christian
friends whether the Catholics, the Baptists, and the Methodists are all the same. Our bloodline
was born out of the slave trade that fueled North American expansion. The plantation owners
of the Caribbean brutalized their workers during the day, and we terrorized the workers at
night. We took advantage of the isolated locations to become small kings of petty domains.
Travelling by boat was a treacherous proposition at the time. Weeks in cramped quarters with
few spaces untouched by the sun aboard a vessel vulnerable to fire meant most Kindred
claimed whatever small piece of solid land they touched as soon as possible