JOHN RIDD
CREATED BY:
Richard Doddridge Blackmore
PORTRAYED BY:
Clive Owen
AS SEEN IN:
"Lorna Doone: A Romance Of Exmoor"
TV DIMENSION:
Alternate TV Dimension
(The 1963 televersion is the one for Earth Prime-Time.)
STATUS:
Multiversal Recastaway
From Wikipedia:
Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor is a novel by Richard Doddridge Blackmore.
It is a romance based on a group of historical characters and set in the late
17th century in Devon and Somerset, particularly around the East Lyn Valley area
of Exmoor.
The narrator, John Ridd, says he was born on 29 November 1661;
in Chapter 24, he mentions Queen Anne as the current monarch, so the time of
narration is 1702–1714 making him 40–52 years old. Although he celebrates New
Year's Day on 1 January, at that time in England the year in terms of A.D.
"begins" Annunciation Style on 25 March, so 14 February 1676 would still be 1675
according to the old reckoning.
John (in West Country dialect,
pronounced "Jan") Ridd is the son of a respectable farmer who was murdered in
cold blood by one of the notorious Doone clan, a once noble family, now outlaws,
in the isolated Doone Valley. Battling his desire for revenge, John also grows
into a respectable farmer and takes good care of his mother and two sisters. He
falls hopelessly in love with Lorna, a girl he meets by accident, who turns out
to be not only (apparently) the granddaughter of Sir Ensor Doone (lord of the
Doones), but destined to marry (against her will) the impetuous, menacing, and
now jealous heir of the Doone Valley, Carver Doone. Carver will let nothing get
in the way of his marriage to Lorna, which he plans to force upon her once Sir
Ensor dies and he comes into his inheritance.
From the Source:
"What is your name?" she said, as if she had every right to ask me; "and
how did you come here, and what are these wet things in this great bag?" [58]
My name is John Ridd. What is your name?"
"Lorna Doone," she
answered, in a low voice, as if afraid of it, and hanging her head so that I
could see only her forehead and eyelashes; "if you please, my name is Lorna
Doone; and I thought you must have known it."
Then I stood up and
touched her hand, and tried to make her look at me; but she only turned away the
more. Young and harmless as she was, her name alone made guilt of her.
Nevertheless I could not help looking at her tenderly, and the more when her
blushes turned into tears, and her tears to long, low sobs.
"Don't cry,"
I said, "whatever you do. I am sure you have never done any harm. I will give
you all my fish Lorna, and catch some more for mother; only don't be angry with
me."
She flung her little soft arms up in the passion of her tears, and
looked at me so piteously, that what did I do but kiss her. It seemed to be a
very odd thing, when I came to think of it, because I hated kissing so, as all
honest boys must do. But she touched my heart with a sudden delight, like a
cowslip-blossom (although there were none to be seen yet), and the sweetest
flowers of spring.
She gave me no encouragement, as my mother in her
place would have done; nay, she even wiped her lips (which methought was rather
rude of her), and drew away.
BCnU!