Readers often ask me how much of The Endless Dawn is history and how much of it represents myth. My reply is that The Endless Dawn creates a new myth based on ancient legends of the Indus Valley, including the Vedas. In this sense, The Endless Dawn performs mythopoeia, the spinning of a new myth. Our age is in search of new myths, which is why epics such as Star Wars and Lord of the Rings are so popular.
In a world of texts and tweets, it is the glib politicians who seize and spew forth discursive narratives and captivating myths, like the bards of the past, particularly about nationality and nationalism, that people crave. Historical fiction writers are, therefore, beholden to create myths responsibly, realizing that some readers, despite the author’s disclaimers, will inevitably take the stories literally and read them as quasi-history, and perhaps even turn them to political ends.
In this sense, The Endless Dawn should be read as pure fiction. Inspired by the sagas of yesteryear from Vedic times, but spun into a tale powered purely by imagination, The Endless Dawn should be enjoyed as a universal story, but not as quasi-history. It is the story of tension tempered with love between two very different brothers, Endra and Eiryaman, and the account of a love triangle between a local princess, Munnala, a foreign ambassador, Kindattu, and the prince of an invading people, Eiryaman. Read now.