October 7, 3014

Most Dread Despot,

It has been a few months since you dispatched my colleague and I to pursue two treaties with the nation of Bravia, and while on my end there remains much to be done, I thought it would be worthwhile to send you some dispatches that I have been able to collect on my journey as well as my time here in the capital of Bravia at court so that you may better understand this strange and complex nation and decide whether you still desire to pursue close relations with them. I am working on a separate report that discusses what I know about the nation of Bravia from a statistical perspective. I figured, though, and I hope I am not assuming incorrectly, that you would appreciate a narrative account before I send you the more technical account.

Before beginning the dispatches, I wished to give you an understanding of how I came about hearing the various stories that I have recorded and also why it is that it has been months and I am in the capital of Bravia which is not the port that you sent me to. One of the most notable aspects of Bravia, and one that is not well understood, is that while Bravia’s port is easily accessible and open to the world, the vast majority of Bravia is far different from the port in its culture and ways and far more rarely understood. Most people who travel to Bravia do so for business, and the Free Port of Bravia, as it is called by the people of that nation, is well-equipped to trade with the world through its large merchant marine as well as its trade centers spread throughout the seas. And from what little I can tell, at least–my colleague will speak on this subject more, and I am sure he has in his own correspondence with you–what we associate with the merchants of Bravia in our own nation applies mainly to the Free Port and not to the nation of Bravia as a whole. I am not sure why this was the case, but we appear to have been a bit deceived that the Free Port of Bravia was itself an independent nation capable of making its own foreign relations. As it happens, it is an autonomous zone within the much larger nation of Bravia, under its protection but free to adopt its own ways within its very confined territory. Finding this out when I arrived in the territorial waters just outside the city was my first big shock, and it set my own plans to pursue a treaty of alliance with Bravia awry from the very start of my mission. Since then I have been seeking to catch up with understanding the nature of Bravia as a whole and its relationship with its Free Port and, also, potentially, with ourselves.

In light of that I feel it somewhat necessary to speak at least at some length about the capital of Bravia and where I happen to find myself as I write this report to you, my Lord. The capital of Bravia is located in a remote mountainous region, and the royal court of Bravia, such as it is, is a rather austere cave literally dug out of a remote mountain. I will have more to say about the Bravian capital when I write my technical report on the nation as a whole, but it is as unlike both the Free Port of Bravia with its massive central business district spreading out in a narrow area near the shore as can be imagined, as well as with our own capital. While you have made our capital beautiful with elegant works built to show your glory to the nation as a whole, the national capital of Bravia is by far the simplest and plainest capital I have ever had the chance to see. I could not imagine it so possible that a capital city of a nation as powerful as Bravia–and it is a powerful nation at its core–could be so plain and lacking in luxury in its public buildings.

To give three examples, I have often been invited to Sabbath and holy day services since my arrival in Bravia, and these services are held in the biggest and most important religious building that can be found. Rather than a fancy and gilded building full of luxury and pomp, though, the church is a simple rock-hewn structure full of empty spaces for prayer and assembly, as well as education. The throne room of the Exilarch–for by this unflattering title the ruler of the Bravians is known–is a reasonably sized cave in a large mountain, and from what I have been able to see, none of the other rooms are fancier than this room where the King sits in a comfortable but rather simple chair at the head of a table where others are invited to speak with him, especially his royal council, which is made up of a variety of priests as well as laymen, some of whom are ordinary citizens in their native cities but who have been chosen for their knowledge and insight and their devotion to serving the people of Bravia. Similarly, while our legislative body meets in a large and ornate building that towers over the city it is a part of, that of Bravia meets on an open plateau near the cave-palace (if it may be called a palace at all) of the Exilarch just below the hill on which the simple temple resides. Nor is this all–the residential and commercial district of the area, Port Royal, is made up of a bunch of low-buildings and wharves that sits on the shores of a nearby lake in what would look like an ordinary provincial town both in Bravia, at least from what I have seen, as well as our own land.

Indeed, at least putting it briefly, the best picture I can give of the nation of Bravia compared to our own, is that I have never seen any area in the land of Bravia that looks like our slums and run-down areas are, but also nothing that approaches the glories of our capital district or the elite districts in our more important cities. Everywhere I have seen in Bravia is a place where comfortable bourgeoisie reside. While there are mild degrees of inequality to be found, and a great deal of variety in the buildings and residences that I have seen, the people of Bravia are remakably equal across all walks of life. There are no privileged elites whose massive mansions dwarf the more modest homes of their neighbors, no districts of slums where a landless and restive proletariat can be found frustrated by its lack of opportunity. The lack of elite culture might in many people’s minds mean that there is no culture, but there are at least two layers of culture that are very strong in Bravia, even in the surprising absence of an elite culture such as every other country I have ever heard of possesses. For one, there is a strong folk culture where the most humble person expects to have their needs and wishes taken into account and where the most elevated person considers it his (or her) highest duty to serve God and the larger public. Tradition is highly valued, and from the clothes that people war to the simple art and music that is played nearly everywhere, there is a widespread appreciation for art and literature that spreads deep into the well-educated if rather plainspoken populace. There is also a vibrant religious culture that is similarly strongly based on tradition and is full of beautiful if somewhat haunting old ways, recounting stories of God’s deliverance as well as the tragic nature of life on earth.

While the people of Bravia are largely content in their ways, and not prone to bother other people or make unreasonable demands (or even, frequently, reasonable ones), there is a deep strain of melancholy that runs through the people. All around Bravia, at least from what I have seen in my limited travels, there are woods full of whispering winds, meadows with lazy streams where one might lose oneself in wondering about the fate of the world, deep forests full of foreboding, mountains in which the reclusive royals dwell, not wishing to be too obvious in a world that they clearly view as hostile. I do not yet know where this sense of melancholy comes. In vain have I looked for its origins in the histories of its people that I have perused, which speak of a complex group of people that arrived on the shores where the Free Port of Bravia and its neighboring towns exists in exile from another land, where the people who landed on ships made a covenant between each other and their God, a covenant that promised obedience to the law and covenant of God, promised a celebration and remembrance of ancient holy convocations, and yet allowed the nation to dwell at peace with others who were not so strict and austere in their ways as the Bravians were through various layers of peace. It is those layers of peace that I have sought to untangle, seeking to understand where we might best find ourselves at peace with a nation which does not wish us harm but clearly is fundamentally different from us in so many ways.

I commented earlier on the strength of Bravia. This strength has not always been immediately obvious, but in visiting the port areas of Bravia on our own shores, I have seen at least a glimpse of its origins. One thing that is unmistakably true about Bravia is that every man, woman, and child in the country sees themselves as living in a hostile world where it is necessary to cultivate strength in order to keep the outside world at bay. The Bravians do not possess a showy strength, because to be showy would be to draw too much attention to themselves, and with that comes a great deal of danger. However, the Bravians as a whole are a remarkably strong nation in many ways. Physically they tend to be wiry, capable of lifting heavy burdens without complaint (or bragging), strong-willed in refusing to be dominated by others without being disagreeable about it, able to restrain themselves to a remarkable degree, and also deeply intelligent and absolutely ravenous for knowledge of both a theoretical and practical bent. The average Bravian, to say nothing of their remarkable leaders, is easily capable of wearing a variety of hats within the course of their lives, moving effortlessly from book learning to travel to composing poetry and writing and telling stories to the worlds of work, religion, and a very egalitarian politics of public discourse and open voting. They are a nation that is easy to underestimate, one who it is easy to get along with, hard to get close to, and very unpleasant to be an enemy of. Let us hope that whatever happens in these negotiations that we remain in the good graces of this nation, even if it would be a disaster if our own people ever demanded to be like them.

There is one more thing I wish to mention before I begin recounting the dispatches I have collected. The stories that follow are ones that I have heard while either traveling to the capital or since I have joined court, and found myself invited on occasion to various events. Most notably among these events are the two stories I got when I was invited to attend the establishment of a new province of Bravia in territory settled beyond a river that had until then been an international border between Bravia and an unknown nation. I will begin with what I think is the strangest story of all, which I heard from the person at the center of the story himself while he was spending time with his grandchildren. More than anything, this first story will allow you to see just how different the people of Bravia are from our own, but hopefully also that they are valuable allies if kept at an arm’s length and kept from influencing our own culture. I will not try your patience too long before getting into that story.

Leonidas Smith, Ambassador