#annotating these books is certainly interesting
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leigh bardugo’s seemingly nonexistent grasp of military and government structures, basic politics, and real world oppression is honestly bewildering. like sometimes I’ll read a part of shadow and bone and have to literally stop and recollect my braincells. truly what an unparalleled experience.
#annotating these books is certainly interesting#in the way studying the ideals of someone who's been living under a rock is#shadow and bone#sab#sab salt#grishaverse#sorry guys this is more negativity#i have to get this out of my system soooo bad#rereading these books is Doing Things to me#especially because there are actually some good parts in them and it drives me SO CRAZY#how many missed opportunities and wasted potential this series has#myramblings#anti leigh bardugo#beware lol#sab critical#darkling slander sunday
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Undertow
He stopped officiating weddings a long time ago. There was no time for such things as the Chief Justice of Fontaine.
But your family insisted. As nobles are wont to do.
Only the finest for their eldest daughter.
Besides, you two were friends, after all.
Neuvillette/Female Reader; in which the Chief Justice can no longer deny his heart on the day of your wedding.
AO3 Story Link
A joyous day.
It should have been, at any rate.
At least for you.
As long as you were happy.
Or so Neuvillette told himself. Duty came first, after all. He had a whole nation to keep from setting itself aflame, be it from Focalors’ whims or the people’s fury. In serving everyone, he was, in fact, serving you.
And in turn, you, too, served the people. Few were so generous with their time and their skills, especially those in your social standing. Fewer still went on to study law, as you had; as heir, you needed to understand property laws and taxes and the words that bound your family to its estate and your place in parliament. Neuvillette would never let it be said that you did not know the meaning of long hours and hard work. Amid the vain and the greedy, you were pragmatic, and not without the wit to prove it.
That was what drew him to you. So many in your position used their wit as sharp daggers to stab others during conversation in a clever, charming way. You flipped the conversation back on perpetrators so often that he wondered why you never pursued certification exams.
“For one, it benefits my station far too much,” you said. “My ambitions are to be able to make life sustainable for all I’m meant to govern. Naive, perhaps. But I think those in my rank need to earn their keep, prove they’re worthy of their legacy. We owe it to the people of Fontaine.”
You were certainly not without a vision, even if you were Unblessed. It was better that way. You didn’t deserve the eyes of the island above on you anymore than they already were.
Neuvillete adjusted his cuffs as he glanced down at the book in his hands. A book you’d given him, annotated with your favorite passages and thoughts. He’d stayed up far too late trying to conceptualize anything other than his legal obligations for the ceremony.
The courtroom buzzed with anticipation. Focalors had rolled her eyes when she caught him getting ready but even she had made herself scarce for once after mumbling to just get it over with. Funny. And here he thought she might be present to laugh in his face and call him a fool.
A fool who took an hour to painstakingly braid his hair in a fashion that mimicked an Oceanid’s tail, as you had once shown him.
He stopped officiating weddings a long time ago. There was no time for such things as the Chief Justice of Fontaine.
But your family insisted. As nobles are wont to do.
Only the finest for their eldest daughter.
Besides, you two were friends, after all.
You would have settled for far less; or rather, you would have been happier with his presence in another capacity. He knew as much. His estate for the ceremony and party. A speech at dinner. A dance. Your smile had been so forced throughout the entire exchange about an officiant that Neuvillette was certain you might snap right then and there.
And yet you remained rooted. Dedicated.
If only the finest would do, why did they even consider the dolt standing before him to be eligible?
Hardly remarkable in accomplishments. The family coasted on interest earned through their holdings but were not without the occasional cousin who ended up with a debt record as long as one’s forearm. Neuvillette couldn’t even justify an excuse for a pedigree; bloodlines couldn’t, shouldn’t, be about trying to maintain whatever purity they claimed to hold.
No one could make that judgment.
Celestia might try, at any rate.
And the Chief Justice could hardly see your future husband comforting you should such a thing happen, let alone caring for the people. Neuvillette could only stare when the nobleman’s eyes caught his; your fiance looked away first and Neuvillette smiled briefly to himself. No. There would be no comfort in this relationship, no challenge, no ambition.
This man would snuff your flames with his own self-importance.
Neuvillette should have offered his hand instead when you’d told him. You seemed so resolute, so determined, to carry out your duty. And he was so patient that he might as well be a coward. Time would wait for him, not you. Instead, he’d pulled every string he could to find every shred of information for you, for your parents, approved the match with as much grace as a ruling.
Mulled over every file with a glass of brandy, trying to convince himself things would be fine.
Wouldn’t they?
Nearby, a musician began the song you had chosen to walk in with and the gallery rose in unison, like the sea, to watch.
The only thing you’d had control over was the dress, you’d admitted one night after dinner. Repurposed, you’d mentioned; all lace and fashionable lines, practical but elegant in its shape. He couldn’t pull his eyes away and he tried to remember to breathe as you made your way down the aisle. In all his years, he had seen many things, including the stunning shimmers of the previous Hydro Archon, but all of them paled to you.
Likewise, it seemed you couldn’t look anywhere else but straight ahead, Neuvillette realized: most looked towards their future spouse but your gaze was fixed on Neuvillette himself. His grip on the book tightened and he was thankful for the swell of the music to hide the squeak of leather.
You weren’t making the stabbing knife in his chest any easier.
The words came quicker than he liked as he began the usual spiel. Welcoming guests, reciting the names of the parties involved, and starting off with a brief speech on the strength of a union. He could read the passage from the book backwards if you asked him.
As a judge, he was meant to be the impartial interpreter of the law. There was no place for bias, for emotion.
His eyes would give him away to any discerning onlookers. Neuvillette was no stranger to rumors and gossip columns and no doubt someone could already see the questions he couldn’t keep from surfacing. It would be obvious, he realized. He kept looking at you and not the crowd, not the man with eager eyes who held your hand the same way one held a horse bridle: too tight.
Neuvillette cleared his throat and pushed away the anguish. It had no place here.
As the Chief Justice asked you to repeat after him, to recite the vows all Fontaine citizens gave on their wedding day, something inside him cracked. Couldn’t you see this would lead to nothing but misery? Weren’t you worthy of more? If you must marry for duty, then at least commit yourself to someone equally committed…
Your lips, painted to perfection (unnecessarily so, for you were already beautiful without such coloring), opened but silence followed. Neuvillette swallowed. Your eyes left his long enough to stare at the man holding your hand before you thrust your bouquet at him, gathered your skirt, and dashed back up the aisle.
Behind you, the courtroom ignited with all of the shock and drama as a high profile murder case as you threw the doors open and dashed into the lobby and eventually out of sight.
The only trace you’d been there at all was your veil as it floated to the floor silently, forgotten.
A joyous day.
It should have been, at any rate.
And yet you shouldn’t shake the knot in your stomach and the claw clenching around your heart. Sleep eluded you for the better part of the night and your maids tutted, pressing cold spoons to your eyes before you were allowed to eat. Food tasted no better than dirt over the last few months and all anyone saw was how careful you were watching your figure.
How you wished things were different. The ring on your finger felt heavy, clunky; a ball and chain around your ankle would have been easier to manage.
It hadn’t been so burdensome at first, of course. Things took time. Perhaps, eventually, you might enjoy your betrothed’s company for longer than a few hours. The potential was there.
But was it enough?
Your maids fixed your makeup, did your hair, swatted your hand away when you reached for just one sip of water.
They all gushed about your fiance, how handsome and charming he was, how well conversation seemed to flow. Every single one of them forgot that the conversations were nothing more than surface level discussions that made you want to gouge your eyes out with a spoon.
You’d almost begged Neuvillette to forge something, anything, that would make this arrangement null and void. Every meeting since the engagement had been heavily supervised under the guise of protecting the Chief Justice’s reputation and your honor, whatever that implied.
Expectation had been there for years, lingered like a ghost. Not from you but from everyone else who cast their eyes on your station. One rarely, if ever, captured the Chief Justice’s attention, after all. Your family had hoped, as others had, but you were content to simply converse over dinner, at parties, exchange books and philosophies and see the man’s smile reach his silvery eyes. He spoke of opera and art in a way so few of your contemporaries could. You tried to control the flutter of your heart when he locked eyes with you across the courthouse foyer after parliament adjourned and you swore you saw his eyes glow.
He was engaging, enthralling, and it was easy to see why the nation considered him such a celebrity.
But your friendship was more than the attention, than the allure of the Chief Justice and all that he encompassed. Some might not call his rulings fair but he saw all of the trappings that Fontaine itself was guilty of pressing onto all of its inhabitants. When you came up with ideas for proposals, it was him you went to for proper language and legal references, always attempting to stay within his schedule, of course. More often than not, he would continue to prompt you to think the proposal through, consider scale and the impact and the precedent.
Never once did he give you an opinion, naturally. Just a different perspective.
“You can be dazed tomorrow,” your mother said as she snapped her fingers in your face. “Your flowers just arrived and the photographer is insisting on family shots here, at the house.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you were dressed by deft hands. It had been something of a game with your maid to pass time when you felt like trying your dress on; little had you known how the practice would backfire.
Something tugged at your gut and you fought the urge to vomit at the thought of the hands (the wrong hands) that would undo the buttons.
No, you made your choice, you reminded yourself. The guilt would fade. The love would fade.
You were closer to thirty than you cared to admit. What your family took for a phase they realized would be a dangerous precedent for your siblings.
Everything you did was for the betterment of the people, you would argue.
What good was the betterment of the people when you were neglecting your duty to your family, was often the retort thrown back with as much acid as your grandmother’s strong tea.
Family.
Duty.
Honor.
All of it was bullshit if the common people were unhappy and left to fend off wolves from above and below.
You’d never subscribed to these notions and they were content to let it be until it was inconvenient. Rather than let you advise on financial planning, to grow an endowment that could take care of the yearly costs of the estate, you were to be cattle in exchange for financial and political support.
Or you would be cast aside, disowned and dishonored, your position taken from you as if it were a rug underfoot.
And so, you accepted all of it with a smile.
You endured.
Just as you endured the flash of the kamera, the fussing over your flowers and your veil during the carriage ride to the courthouse.
The press were eager, as they always were, for gossip and fashion and for a glimpse of the Chief Justice presiding over the ceremony. They weren’t here for you, not truly. Why, of all things, had your parents insisted he be the officiant?
Wasn’t it enough that you were giving up parts of your life, parts of your soul, for a person who would never appreciate them?
Your feet already ached from your heels. A wave of dizziness slapped you across the face as you entered the lobby and you pushed through it. Music began, the doors opened, and your body moved of its own accord, just as you had practiced the night before.
Neuvillette had declined the rehearsal dinner. The one time you were glad not to see him. If you had, you wouldn’t be here now, you were certain.
You gave a cursory glance to your fiance but your attention whipped back to Neuvillette almost instantly. He’d done his best but you could see the faded dark circles under his silver eyes. How late had he stayed up, you wondered. And how long had that braid taken him?
He’d let you style it once, and only once, in the privacy of his library. Waterfalls of silken fabric couldn’t compare to the beautiful blue and white locks between your fingers. He’d been attentive when you showed him the technique, pausing his case review to do so, but…
An ache from your feet ran up to your heart and sat, heavy with longing; it hurt to breathe.
The music swelled to a close and your father kissed your cheek before he passed you along to your fiance. He smiled and you tried not to be disgusted at the sweaty hand that held yours. You held your flowers in your other hand tighter, glad that the florist had missed a thorn in trimming your flowers.
Before you could blink, Neuvillette was already speaking.
And although he was addressing everyone as he read the passage you read aloud to him on a particularly gloomy evening, his gaze never left yours. The man witnessed and knew of the cruelest things the nation allowed, worked under Honorable Focalors Herself, and yet the expression on his face (such as it was, for he was known for his unreadable countenance) was as if…
It was gone in all but a moment as he cleared his throat and prompted you to recite your vows.
It was the subtle raise of Neuvillette’s eyebrows, the way his eyes widened just enough for emphasis that did you in.
Doubt. Anguish.
Was this what you wanted?
You turned your head, every intention to get the words across your tongue and past your lips in mind, when your voice simply wouldn’t comply. All you could see was a life shackled, compromise after compromise and always made against your favor. Concessions that eventually wore down to wondering why you ever bothered.
Did you want to throttle yourself, your spirit, your drive, for potential that wasn’t even there? When the man you loved would be forever kept out of reach?
If not this, then what did you want?
The answer was literally staring you in the face.
You shoved your flowers into your betrothed’s hands and pulled away, not caring if your dress carried sweat stains as you gathered the skirts and ran as fast as your legs could carry you out the door. Commotion behind you roared to life as you haphazardly made your way through the lobby, down to the entrance, and then dashed to the side garden to avoid the headline-hungry press.
There were few options to hide, all of them easy enough to locate. Your family would drag you back if they found you. Assuming they weren’t bickering and that the wedding was even still on from your fiance’s point of view.
A single drop of rain plopped on your head, sudden and cold. Followed by another. And then there was no sun left in the sky as rain came down in sheets, heavy and frigid. Thunder rumbled through your entire being. You couldn’t stay here. Over the roar of the rain, you could hear your name. You wouldn’t heed.
You were tired of coming when called, of giving your loyalty and love to those who sought to keep you from your happiness. No better than a hunting dog.
Soaked, your hair and dress now destined for the Abyss, you slid off your heels and made your way towards the one place you might be able to wait out the rain in peace.
Over the chatter of the crowd, the rumble of thunder was unmistakable.
Of course it would rain. It wasn’t like he’d done a terrific job of hiding his own bias.
The speed at which you’d run back up the aisle was a feat, given the shoes you wore. No doubt those wouldn’t do you any good in this weather. You were probably cold, overwhelmed…
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and Neuvillette’s hand shot out. He grabbed the nobleman’s arm before he could move, already poised to go after you.
“Leave her be. These things happen. It is best for a neutral party to resolve these matters. Wedding planners, family, or friends are usually equipped for these situations,” the Chief Justice said matter of factly.
Fight back, you absolute–
Your betrothed’s arm relaxed in Neuvillette’s grip and it took everything in the Chief Justice not to summon his power and drown him there and then. If there was one person deserving of being reduced to their primal element…
Neuvillette’s voice cut above the crowd as he called for order, requesting that guests remain where they were and that, no doubt, everything would resume shortly. Your parents were already doing a poor attempt at damage control with your supposed-in-laws. Your siblings were casting looks at the door, half-debating if they should go after you; they weren’t like you, not as headstrong, not as independent, and one look from your matriarchal grandmother sent them further into their seats.
He intervened, diffusing arguments with ease, all the while wondering if you were okay. Your parents wanted to use city resources, send out police. For once, your fiance chimed in that such a thing might scare you and you needed help, not to be dragged back kicking and screaming.
“You should go, sir,” the young nobleman said quietly as the bickering picked up again. “You said it yourself: family or friends, and her family doesn’t seem keen to fight for her.”
The man’s smile was shaky but the Chief Justice appreciated the sentiment. At least he had a brain in there somewhere.
“Be sure to keep them from saying too much to the press. Should any ask, Her Honor is also behaving…in her usual fashion.”
Neuvillette was certain his absence wouldn’t go unnoticed and the fact that the press were still clamoring at the front stairs despite the downpour wouldn’t help matters. He paid them no mind as rain pelted him, drenching his robes and suit jacket underneath. The rain did nothing to affect his vision nor his drive to find you; he was unbothered by the chill but you…you always did love curling up right next to a fire and being bundled in winter.
There was one place you might go, he pondered, that few knew about and fewer had access to. Short of you running through the city in your dress (which would not be like you), you had little options to avoid the press but to stay near the courthouse.
He found you as he expected to, under a pavilion tucked away into a quiet garden on the property, wringing out your skirts and pacing, feet bare against the wet stone. You were never still when your mind was lightyears ahead of you, be it from following trains of thought or when you were attempting to force a filibuster. Your thoughts were likely half-way to Inazuma by now and just as tumultuous as the storms he heard so much about.
His breath caught when you jumped as you caught sight of him, eyes wide and anguish carved into your face. Neuvillette stepped under the cover of the pavilion, his robes and braid dripping unceremoniously and you immediately reached to wring his hair out gently, without so much as a second thought.
The Chief Justice took off his gloves as he let you finish before he took your hands in his. He could feel the bump on your finger where you held a pen, the tender spot where your flowers pricked you.
“I can’t do it, Neu,” you choked out, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”
“You don’t have to if it’s going to make you unhappy, if you cannot see a future with the person standing at the altar.”
He worked in rulings, evidence, facts; managing Focalors emotional outbursts was a terrible part of his job description but they never teetered into this territory. He was used to fleeting whims and de-escalation.
This? This was a decision that would change the course of your life. Not immediately, of course. But the future was a terrifying, uncertain thing, and you had expectations to contend with.
Expectations that did not involve him.
The pall of fear lifted from your face slowly, the same way morning dew disappeared from the grass. Something else blossomed in its place, like a sweet flower pushing through the cracks in the cobblestone streets, resilient and resolute.
“The thing is, I can. Just not with the man I was about to marry.”
Shooting him would have been less painful. Such an admission should have, as with all things today, been enough to make a heart soar, even manage to turn bitter water into sweet ambrosia. Your lips parted again before he could speak.
“And I understand you feel differently; you’ve never given me reason to believe otherwise and I am not asking for more than what you have to give. I would never do that to you. If I marry the man in there,” you nodded your head in the direction of the courthouse, “it will always be a lie. Maybe I’ll grow to tolerate him but I will never love him. Not like I love you. As I do now, I will spend the rest of my life looking into his eyes, wishing he was you.”
Neuvillette’s hands dropped yours to cup your face of their own accord. Before he could process anything else, he’d tilted your head up and pressed his lips to yours as if he was a man deprived of air. You were warm, despite the weather, and he could make out the familiar scent of your perfume amid the fresh flowers in your hair. He felt you relax, curve yourself into him, hands finding purchase on the soaked lapels of his robes.
He broke away, his face hot as he admired your swollen lips. Mixed in with your slight daze was that inquisitive expression he would never tire of, one you often gave to silently encourage him to continue speaking.
“Then no more wishing, mon amour,” he whispered, brushing away the stray tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. “Marry me.”
“Don’t just—”
“I should not have let it get as far as it has. What good is duty if your heart is elsewhere?”
“And where will we go, my Chief Justice? The people of Fontaine and our Archon might enjoy this scandal a little too much…it would be quite a spectacle.”
“Qiaoying Village is nice this time of year. I have an acquaintance in Liyue I can persuade to be a witness. Beyond that…we’ll let the current decide.”
His words shook something in you as you reached up and tugged at his cravat to pull him into another kiss. Longer than the last, smooth and steady like a morning tide, passion dancing like an undertow.
#neuvillette#neuvillette/female reader#neuvillette/reader#chief justice neuvillette#genshin impact neuvillette#arranged marriage#angst with a happy ending#fluff#romance#love confessions
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for snake boi callum week, day 1: prince (italicized quotes from machiavelli's "the prince")
Callum receives a book of princely etiquette on his eleventh birthday.
It's an old tome, wrapped in a bow and presented to him by Harrow alongside an awkward hug and well-meaning smile. "It was my copy once," his stepfather tells him.
Harrow has even left notes in the margins, tiny annotations scrawled in ink. Callum reads the book as well as he reads anything else, but it is rather dull. It's a lot of rules about forks and knives and bows that he's not entirely sure he'll keep straight, and even King Harrow's notes and adjustments aren't enough to keep it interesting.
Most of them are modelled after a prince becoming a king, after all, and Ez is just learning how to tie his own boot laces now so that Callum doesn't have to do them for him all the time.
Still... if he learns more about being a prince—other princely etiquette books have to exist, right?—maybe he can be a better one. He heads to the library, dodging the bothersome old lady who oversees it, and only gets distracted a couple of times on his way to the right section.
He bypasses the ones that are just about social etiquette (he's had enough of that already) or linguistics (he's plenty fluent in courtly Neolandian thank you very much) and history (the battles have funny names, but the Mage Wars don't affect things too much these days) in favour of something a bit fresher.
The Social Politics of Ruling stands out to him, and Callum pulls it down from the shelf. This might be useful as a prince, and barring that, as Ezran's future advisor someday.
He sinks to the floor and opens it, eyes scanning the chapters, then the pages. It's certainly an easier read than the one Harrow had given him, but with every sentence, the uneasy feeling in his stomach increases.
It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot have both... That couldn't be right. Callum wrinkles his nose, thinking of Prince Kasef at the summer ball last year, older and swaggering and smug. He'd liked the way his servants had trembled. Callum can't fathom wanting fear over love if you had a choice.
And yet...
How we live is so different from how we ought to live that he who studies what ought to be done rather than what is done will learn the way to his downfall rather than to his preservation.
("You shouldn't have done it," Rayla says, later. There's a tremor in her voice and tears in her eyes. "You should've—"
"Let you die?" he snaps. He takes her by the shoulders. "How can you ask that of me?"
"But now we're all in danger, and—"
"Yes, we're in danger, not dead! You're not dead." Sighing, Callum rests his forehead against hers, relieved when she lets him. "I know what I 'should've done'... the same way I knew in the rain when we were kids, and on Finnegrin's ship. But I—I can't live without you, Rayla. I just can't.")
Maybe there's something to this book after all, just a little.
#tdp callum#snake boi callum#snake boi callum week 2.0#snake boi callum week#headcanons#pre series#the royal family of katolis#my fic#fic#ficlet#i can't lose queue like this#tdp#the dragon prince
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When I started getting interested in Thai not even a year ago, I certainly didn't expect to be reading poetry at this point but here we are now:
มิ่งมิตร (ming mit) - the poem from Be My Favorite EP.11
It's part of a book of poems called ขอบฟ้าขลิบทอง (horizon trimmed in gold) and the author's pen name is อุชเชนี (Eugenie). Since 2017, the year after her passing, there's been a literary contest dedicated to her, the Eugenie Awards (website is in Thai).
I've copied over the entire thing from the end of the episode + the translation from the subs + included screenshots with the exact lines (unless it just shows Pear reading, unrelated to the line).
In Pear's recital there's two lines missing/left out that I tried to translate (=*) to the best of my *cough* limited *cough* abilities.
Anything marked in red is either an annotation of mine or where I felt the translation needed clarification.
I ran out of time so make of all of this what you will. I might come back to this post with some comments or meta before Friday.
Disclaimer: I'm a learner of Thai, not a native speaker, so feel free to correct me on anything 🙏
มิ่งมิตร เธอมีสิทธิ์ที่จะล่องแม่น้ำรื่น
Dear Friend, You have the right to sail along and glide (along a river)
ที่จะบุกดงดำกลางค่ำคืน ที่จะชื่นใจหลายกับสายลม
To venture into the woods in the dead of night
To revel in the joy of a gentle breeze's sway
ที่จะร่ำเพลงเกี่ยวโลมเรียวข้าว ที่จะยิ้มกับดาวพราวผสม
To sing your song with the harvested rice
To grin (smile) at the stars above shining bright
ที่จะเหม่อมองหญ้าน้ำตาพรม ที่จะขมขื่นลึกโลกหมึกมน
To gaze upon the grass with tears in your eyes
To absorb as much bitterness as desired (To be deeply bitter, the world inky unmoving)
ที่จะแล่นเริงเล่นเช่นหงษ์ร่อน ที่จะถอนใจทอดกับยอดสน
To be cheerful as a swan soaring free
To vent it out with the top of the pine tree
ที่จะหว่านสุขไว้กลางใจฅน ที่จะทนทุกข์เข้มเต็มหัวใจ
To plant glee in the hearts of people
To take in (endure) as much misery (suffering, one of the Four Noble Truths in Buddhism) as you're able
ที่จะเกลาทางกู้สู่ฅนยาก ที่จะจากผมนิ่มปิ้มเส้นไหม
*To smooth the path to recovery for someone poor (a way out of being poor)
*To leave (?) hair soft almost like silken threads
ที่จะหาญผสานท้านัยน์ตาใคร ที่จะให้สิ่งสิ้นเธอจินต์จง
*To boldly unite, to defy the eyes of others
*To let things end as you envision
ที่จะอยู่เพื่อฅนที่เธอรัก ที่จะหักพาลแพรกแหลกเป็นผง
To live for someone you love dearest
To battle until your body turns into ashes (no mention of what turns to dust here as a result of bending, fighting, breaking)
ที่จะมุ่งจุดหมายปรายทะนง ที่จะคงธรรมเที่ยงเคียงโลกา
To achieve what you strongly desire
To pursue fairness (dharma, justice, truth, virtue) for humankind
เพื่อโค้งเคียวเรียวเดือนและเพื่อนโพ้น เพือไผ่โอนพลิ้วพ้อล้อภูผา
For the sickle, the crescent moon, your dear friends
For the swaying bamboo trees and the mountains
เพื่อเรืองข้าวพราวแพร้วทั่วแนวนา เพื่อขอบฟ้าขลิบทองรองอรุณ
For the abundant rice in the paddy to remain
For the golden skyline to come once again (For the horizon trimmed in gold to cradle/prop up the dawn)
#be my favorite the series#be my favorite#thai bl#local woman harps on about linguistics#yup this is a tag now
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i would love to hear about your 24 copies of the wind in the willows if you feel like talking about it
Anon, I don't think you understand how much I want to talk about this.
I'll start by saying, this order may or may not be a bit confusing, mostly because I'm attempting to group editions together in a way that makes some sort of sense.
Roughly, I'll group them as follows:
Annotated Editions
Vintage Editions
Mass Market Paperbacks
Other Paperbacks*
Small Hardcover Editions*
Other Hardcover Editions*
*Not including editions shown previously
Finally, this will not include abridged editions, retellings, or books that adapt small segments of the text
This is going to be a long post. There will be photos. I'm putting the rest under a cut!
Annotated Editions
I own three separate annotated editions
The Annotated Wind in the Willows, annotated by Annie Gauger
The Wind in the Willows: An Annotated Edition, annotated by Seth Lerer
The Annotated Wind in the Willows: For Adults and Sensible Children (Or Possibly, for Children and Sensible Adults), annotated by GMW Wemyss and Markham Shaw Pyle
These account for a total of six copies, because I have doubles of each of these editions so that I have a "clean" copy and one where I can write my own notes. Currently, I've only managed to add my notes to the Gauger edition. Here's an example of my personal notes (forgive my handwriting, I was having issues with my pen)
The Gauger edition uses illustrations from multiple illustrators, as well as historic photographs. Additionally, this edition has segments on Grahame's life, including copies of the Dearest Mouse letters (the letters that Grahame wrote to his son, Alastair, which eventually formed the basis for Wind in the Willows). The Lerer edition used Ernest Shepard's illustrations, and the GMW Wemyss/Markham Shaw Pyle edition is un-illustrated.
As an aside, I purchased the other two online, but the Gauger edition (well, one of them) was a gift from a dear friend.
Vintage Editions
These copies were all printed prior to the mid 1960s.
This is my most fragile copy. It was printed in 1926, by Metheun (the original British publishers of The Wind in the Willows). I got this edition online from someone who didn't quite seem to know what it was (the listing mentioned J.M. Barrie as the author). I know very little about this edition, but there is an inscription inside that reads "To Jacky, from Elspeth - 1926." This gets a little interesting because Elspeth was the name of Kenneth Grahame's wife, and she was very much alive in 1926. Will I ever know if this edition was given to someone by the Elspeth? Probably not. Examples of her handwriting that I've been able to track down have been very minimal. But it's certainly an interesting thing to daydream about!
I own two (non-annotated) copies with Ernest Shepard's illustrations. Both of these were published in the early 1960s. The first one you see is an ex-library copy that I bought at a Friends of the Library book sale. It was described as being from the first edition with color illustrations, which is hilarious because 1) the illustrations are not colored in this edition and 2) there were at least two other illustrators prior to Ernest Shepard whose illustrations were in color. I nearly ended up in an argument with an elderly lady over this, but I bought it anyways.
The other does have several colored illustrations, which are lovely (originally, Shepard's illustrations were black and white, but later some full color illustrations were added. In my experience, you see the full color illustrations much less regularly). I got this edition online because, at the time, I did not have a Shepard edition.
Ernest Shepard is better known as the illustrator for the Winnie the Pooh stories by A.A. Milne.
The copyright date on this Thrushwood edition is listed as the being from the 1910s, but the inscription is from 1948. I love to purchase copies with inscriptions (or even just the scribbles of kids) inside. This is another edition that I purchased online.
As a note, this edition is illustrated, but I did forget to take a picture of the illustrations. My apologies!
This is another edition from the 1960s. This is my newest (to me) edition, which I purchased online. It was illustrated by Arthur Rackham. This edition has by far the loveliest inscription I've seen (and is the primary reason I bought the book).
My dear Susie,
If you like this story one half as much as I do, it will still be your favorite book.
Merry Christmas kid.
Love,
Karen
Mass Market Paperbacks
These are some mass market editions I've acquired over the years. Most of these were purchased from used bookstores, although the Dell Yearling Classic edition was a gift from a friend. The Tor edition has by far one of my favorite blurbs ever.
They're just strange little guys!
Other Paperbacks
This is an edition that I bought online. This particular edition is illustrated by Patrick Benson, who also illustrated the series The Willows and Beyond by William Horwood. This edition has an introduction by Horwood as well, so they definitely feel like a set.
This is a fun one! It's an Illustrate Your Own edition. I bought this one new for obvious reasons. I have doodled in it a bit, but I'll spare you my own drawings.
I got this edition last year from the Strand Bookstore in New York City. This was my first trip to NYC and I looked for The Wind in the Willows in every book store I visited! This cover is one of my favorites: it appears embroidered on the front, and on the inside of the cover you get the messy "back side" of the embroidery. This is such a fun edition and one I had wanted for a while before I found it in a store!
Small Hardcover Editions
I got the top two editions from used bookstores, and they don't have any major illustrations in them. The edition on the bottom came from Barnes and Noble, and it features Nancy Bernhardt's illustrations. Bernhardt was an early illustrator (pre-Shepard!), and her illustrations were very unique (and often a little strange). I prefer her smaller black and white drawings throughout the book, but the full color illustrations are fascinating!
Other Hardcover Editions
And finally, here are some of my very favorites. These are all hardcover editions that I find particularly beautiful.
This edition was illustrated by Grahame Baker-Smith. I love the classic feeling of the cover. There are smaller sepia-toned illustrations, as well as some absolutely unique full color illustrations like the one pictured above. It's one of my favorite illustrations in the book, and one of my favorite illustrations of the chapter "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn." I would kill for a print of this particular illustration. I got this edition at a local bookstore that is no longer in business.
This edition was illustrated by Robert Ingpen, and it's the first edition I really fell in love with. I'm actually not always a fan of illustrators who draw Rat as very mouse-like (more on that below), but Ingpen's illustrations are so beautiful and feel so rich and warm. In particular, Ingpen probably has my favorite illustrations of Badger. I believe this was the first edition that I purchased! (I don't have an exciting story for how I purchased this one, it honestly came from Amazon because I had been given a gift card).
And finally, this edition is illustrated by Chris Dunn. I got this one through a Kickstarter that I funded. I had been dreaming of an English language edition with Dunn's illustrations for years, you have no idea how excited I was when this Kickstarter was launched. Dunn's illustrations are so unique because he is one of the only illustrators who very clearly and distinctly illustrates Rat as a water vole. Although Ratty is called The Water Rat throughout the text, he's actually a water vole, and that often gets lost in modern contexts. Dunn's illustrations are absolute favorites of mine, and this edition is so extremely special to me. It's massive and absolutely gorgeous.
And that's it! I own a LOT of books related to The Wind in the Willows (including a first edition of First Whisper of The Wind in the Willows, a book created by Elspeth Grahame after her husband's death). But going over ALL of my Wind in the Willows collection would make this post even more impossibly long than it already is.
Thanks so much for the ask! I hope you enjoyed this tour and that it's not completely overwhelming or boring.
#wind in the willows#witw#kenneth grahame#bookblr#childrens books#childrens literature#fantasy#vintage books#long post#like really long post
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Promised myself I would bring only one book this time around, because I always end up buying books when I travel and I have no dang space for them if I bring a bunch in the first place. Problem is choosing one single book to bring! I suppose it helps a little if I think of it as just my airport/plane read, since again, I'll almost certainly acquire more, but that's a lot of reading time to cover. I'm torn between The Creeping Shadow (which I'm already a quarter of the way through, this third read, so maybe not ideal, and also I'd be devastated if I lost a book I already started annotating) vs. an Irish history book I bought on my first trip over, years ago now, and still haven't finished. The latter is relevant since I'll be around the area it's about, but the former is, ya know, Lockwood & Co (though both things are special interests). Decisions, decisions! At least I've picked out my more portable read with a nice, long fanfiction.
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History Professor Kyle Broflovski headcanons because my hyperfixation is hyperfixating:
⋆ known to drink red wine from a teapot, Stan will occasionally join him for this reason alone.
⋆ hands covered in rushed ink scribbles 24/7, he’s his own diary.
⋆ to the surprise of basically everybody who has ever witnessed his academic grind-set, unless he is incredibly swamped by work his office remains pretty tidy.
⋆ known to fall asleep at his desk.
⋆ treats lectures like performances, his students thank him for it.
⋆ one time Cartman as a joke edited Kyle’s lecture PowerPoint (with a back-up obviously) to include some incredibly rude images. To his surprise Kyle made direct eye contact with him, sipped his coffee, and ran with it. Nobody suspected a thing.
⋆ he has doctors handwriting, it is illegible, he is not sorry. He also doesn’t believe Stan when he gently lets him know that it is unreadable chicken scratch.
⋆ calls his students nerds, he finds it justified because at least he gets paid to be one.
⋆ while discussing deep and academic historic topics he will not hesitate to swear or use slang, he can and will debate for hours on why he thinks this is fair.
⋆ while his office is tidy, there is certainly an abundance of books. everywhere. every surface, even the floor. bro has his own personal library.
⋆ will buy himself flowers to make his office a bit more cheery, once had a two hour debate with Cartman after buying himself tulips – Cartman is far too into Victorian Flower Language and assumed Kyle had got himself into a secret relationship with this as his pedantic way of announcing it. In character tho honestly–
⋆ refuses to sell textbooks after using them, Kyle and his old textbooks have a parasocial relationship. He annotates them excessively with little doodles and everything.
⋆ actually isn’t super into literature, he was shocked at finding out how into reading Kenny was and is super open to all of the blond’s recommendations. Kenny is the only reason he regularly reads non-fiction books.
⋆ hates the overused Indiana Jones jokes but will not hesitate to make them himself, especially towards Kenny (the walking stereotype of a thrill-seeking treasure hunter)
⋆ odd socks. this man will be wearing the most formal attire ever, refined to the smallest details, then people realise him wearing like one pink sock and one checkered blue sock and be like “ohhhhh screw this guy”
⋆ known for his quick wit and sarcastic comments, always keeping his students on their toes and paying attention to every word he says. When talking to the guys he says that it’s just a tactic to get them to focus, really he just secretly loves being that bitch.
If you’re interested so far then feel free to go check out a fic with this Kyle as one of the main characters on AO3 called Knights Of The Cardinal Compass, a fic where the m4 are all history nerds and go on an adventure looking for the all powerful medieval artefact known as the crusaders compass across continents and far too many cities
AO3: lab_ratatouille
Thank you!! Might be back with a part 2 because this man is special to me <3
#south park#sp kyle#sp style#kyle broflovski#dark academia#it’s a fanfic#headcanons#kyle broflovski headcanons#Kyle broflovski as a history teacher
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sooo i’ve chosen to read lolita as part of a summer assignment for my english lit course (my prof described nabokov as “a WRITER” and the book as having “amazing use of language), and through the grapevine i’ve heard that you’re an Understander of this novel. would you say that lolita is difficult to read if you’re not experienced with the whole western literary canon/litmosphere? i’m not religious, so allusions to the bible are always going over my head, and i’m the type of person whose only experience with shakespeare is r+j and macbeth. mostly i just worry that allusions will be going over my head when i read this book. sorry if this is a weird ask, just that your general lit analysis i’ve seen previously is very deep. feel free to delete this if it’s a bother 😅
hm i find it kind of difficult to make a good judgment call on this one because i came at it as someone who was relatively fluent in the literary canon. i think certainly it relies on a particular level of fluency in literary devices and aesthetic configurations, but i imagine if you're on an english lit course you probably know what to look out for on that front. re: allusions, though, i think it's much more important to have a grasp on what the allusions are supposed to be doing in the text than to manage to check off every single one. i would highly recommend reading annabel lee---it's a v quick read, and it's the text to which nabokov makes significant repeated reference, and having it on hand when you go in will help you spot the specific subtle ways that it ends up woven into the prose outside of the direct allusions. other than that, though, you'll follow the text just fine if you understand that it runs on literary traditions concerning the muse and the aesthetic subjectivity thereof, and that "lolita" as humbert renders her can be thought of as a composite being made from scraps of figures such as annabel lee, vee clemm poe, beatrice portinari, etc. tensions between the "real" world and the literary are one of the key thematic touchpoints in the novel, and as long as you understand that humbert operates in a literary register & draws on various literary traditions, allusions, devices, &c. in order to craft his narrative, you'll get by fine without needing to get bogged down by specifics.
that said, if you're interested in specific allusions, devices, etc., i would recommend getting hold of a copy of the annotated lolita if you're able. i hope you enjoy it + good luck with your assignment :~)
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hey sam! i was just ruminating that it's a fantastic time for authors to do dvd commentaries, and other 'ask the author' memes. it's additional material and feedback all in one package! (after we explain what a dvd extra is)
I suppose I'm of two minds about it. My immediate thought was that authors have always done Q&As, but it's true that they used to be less accessible both to readers and to the authors if they weren't big names, because they required travel (and in the reader's case, knowing the author would be traveling, plus having to go out to wherever they were doing the reading). Authors still do book tours and signings for that kind of purpose, but being able to do that kind of thing online as well now makes it easier and cheaper. Although I wonder whether there's less sense of connection because it's not face-to-face. But yeah, I would imagine it's pretty great for gauging what the overall readership is interested in. Certainly in dialogue with readers when I put my books up for review, I always learn a lot.
The idea of a DVD commentary is kind of interesting because I was like "How would that work with a book, though?" and I guess you could annotate an ebook -- like, offer a version with little widgets where if you clicked them you'd get the author adding notes about the book. I've never been a fan of actual DVD commentaries -- I don't like filmed interviews because they take so fucking long to actually say anything, and with a DVD commentary you've now got the addition of "talking over the story". But I could see how if you loved a book you might like having a version where you've got extra notes.
I struggle with the idea of "additional material" somewhat. I suppose that's ironic given how much I discuss outside-of-book on this blog, but that's just....I don't know, it's answering questions, it's not like "building the canon outside of the canon", and if I think something is good enough, it always goes into the books. The whole "They speak English with a Welsh accent" thing was amusing, but then I was like "Yeah let's actually put that in the text, why should it live on Tumblr alone?"
There's so much media now where it feels like if you aren't spending every waking moment interacting with every aspect of it, you just don't get to...be a fan, in an active sense. There are podcasts I follow where if you want to do anything other than listen to the episodes, even if you just want to attend a live show or buy merchandise, you have to dedicate significant time weekly to following them on all the social media and actively read their Patreon. And I just can't. I really like that creators can put that kind of thing out there, I think overall that's to the good, but it feels like something I'm blocked from participating in.
So, I keep all my shit here. I've had it suggested that I'd benefit as a writer from having a newsletter, which I actually agree with, and it seems like it could be entertaining to do. But I get caught up in this dichotomy of "Well, won't people be mad that they have to go subscribe to this thing instead of just reading my tumblr?" and/or "Won't subscribers be aware they can just find all this on my tumblr?" and I get real in my head about it. Because I'd struggle with having to go two separate places for stuff like that.
Uh, to circle back to your actual ask, however, because all that was just like...IDK, weird anxiety digression, I do think it's a great era for extra-canonical material, and while it does mean creators have to be much better at boundary-setting than they used to be, I like that they can adjust their level of interaction as they see fit.
Oh and uh. It's felt awkward to actually talk about it, but if you guys do want more material I do have a sideblog, @shivadh, which is where I stash everything I want to make note of for the books -- research, imagery, stuff I've talked about here that hasn't got a place to go in googledocs yet, that kind of thing. It's not extra material per se, it's just me shoving shit into a filing cabinet, and I don't do image IDs like I do here because it's more for me, plus I do delete posts once I've made use of them. But folks are welcome to follow if they want to.
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Do you have any advice for kobolds seeking to become spellcasters, be it tapping into their own inherent magic or trying to learn something more structured like a wizard or trying to tap into the divine?
Absolutely!!! Here's a quick list of things to try! ✨🙌✨
(Summary:)
Try seeing if you have latent draconic powers
Try the typical sorcery route (or be a mage like me!)
Get bestowed powers by a dragon
Worship a god (highly suggest the draconic pantheon, see below!)
[SPOILERS, read below]
Try seeing if you have latent draconic powers
Some kobolds carry something inside them that taps into the inherent magic of dragon lineage! This is probably the easiest way to start casting spells, though not all kobolds have this, and such raw ancient power can be hard to control, especially when you're only 2 feet tall... 💥😅💥 (If that doesn't work, or if draconic magic is just too much to handle, there are plenty of other opportunities! Keep reading!)
Try the typical sorcery route (or be a mage like me!)
I personally am a mage, but that is really rare amongst kobolds, as most tend to go the sorcerer route and don't tend to be too big a fan of studying dusty tomes and scrolls and such. If sorcery sounds like the method for you, try going to places of magical power, consuming certain ingredients or potions, meditating, tracking dreams, and other such things that help you connect to the magic in the world around you and passing through you! If you're interested in being a mage like me, feel free to check out a book from the archives and get reading!!! 📖😋📚
(Also, if you're trying sorcery, don't be afraid to get weird with it!!! Just find what works for you! ✨☝️✨)
Get bestowed powers by a dragon
If you're still struggling and are still set on casting cool spells (or just don't have the time), my next recommendation would be to go to a dragon for help! Dragons will often bestow power of some kind to their followers or people they find an interest in, including magical abilities! I didn't recommend this first because I know working for a dragon isn't everyone's idea of a good time, but it is how I'm able to cast such powerful magic at such a low level!
Worship a god
If no dragons are immediately available, you still might get bestowed the powers you're craving by gods you worship! I highly suggest the dragon pantheon, though non-draconic pantheons would be very lucky to have you too! I personally prefer to serve my dragons in person, but the idea of pledging to the most powerful and noteworthy of all dragons ever is certainly also appealing in its own way!!! Here's this encyclopedia on the Outer Planes System's dragon pantheon, and I think Kereska especially might be who you're looking for! 😉
Pact
If you've come this far and still don't have what you're looking for, maybe have you tried being a bard?? Or maybe a chef!!! Inventors are cool, right??? Who needs magic anyways, pshhh, totallly overhyped...
Y-You're still here? Well, I guess... technically, there's still one last thing you could try, but I Super Highly Very Strongly advise that you reaaaaaally consider if it's worth it on this one....
You could, theoretically, make a pact for it. I'm not saying that all beings who make pacts are bad, but it's as easy as trading basalt with a hatchling to get screwed over in a way that will permanently remove the words "I'm ok" from your vocabulary. Demons, eldritch, and even some dragons may make this offer to you if you're desperate enough for it, just be really really really careful alright? 👉👈
Hopefully this helps, thank you so much for the ask!!! 🙏🥹 And again, you're free to check out any of the mage books in the collection here if you're interested! I'll even lend you my personal annotated copies if you ask nicely~ ✨;)✨
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honestly after seeing everything, from films to annotated books, say 1. him getting a "wicked desire" out of the sisters is Repression, or fear of dominant women, or it was hot and he'd enjoy it 2. him not recording what happened between him and Dracula the last night is him "hiding a homosexual affair" 3. him being unable to wake up to save Mina makes him a cuckold and "demoted" by the forbidden object of mina's desire... It's nice to see all three instances when he got assaulted (because 3rd Oct was an assault on him too dammit) being treated seriously, instead of turned into jokes or infidelity Actually.
I joke a lot about subjecting poor Jonathan to assorted horrors, but the truth of it is that while I do like throwing new twists and terrors his way, this guy was already very much subject to a wide array of nightmares and traumas that the rest of the cast never experiences, and for far longer. This obviously isn't to belittle the brisker and more immediately vicious attacks Dracula inflicts on, say, Lucy and Mina, but those same threats--exsanguination, death, undeath, automatic enslavement/entrapment--were all still very much intended for Jonathan on top of the rest of his two month marathon of psychological torture.
And you're right. The latter is never, ever brought up in Dracula media other than Dracula itself. Certainly never with any kind of dignity, honesty, or acknowledgment of the horror involved. Part of the reason I write Mr. Harker into so many miserable corners--corners that, some have pointed out, he's only trapped in by dint of the Villain of the Moment taking a covetous interest in him, be it for his weird strengths or his charm or both--is to highlight the fact that he is a damsel in distress. One who is consistently targeted because he appeals to the monster(s).
Jonathan Harker is a good, sweet, strong, intriguing, desirable character.
Jonathan Harker is a victim of unwanted amorous and/or literally bloodthirsty attention from multiple aggressors.
Jonathan Harker is a traumatized individual who, regardless of what sequels or spinoffs try to twist in otherwise, spent months having his mind dragged over broken glass as he tried to juggle trying to get help, trying to escape, trying not to anger the undead horror keeping him prisoner, trying not to get magically coerced into laying back and letting the sexual predator-coded vampires take turns drinking from him or worse, trying at the very end of his rope to attack the monster only to get parried by yet another surprise superpower and the cheat of arriving minions and elements to conspire against him, trying, trying, trying everything he could think of to Not Be in This Hell, only to ultimately gamble himself on a cliff fall or death in the wilderness rather than stay another minute in that stone box of nightmares and undead eternity with the Weird Sisters.
Jonathan Harker has all this inflicted on him because, like Lucy, like Mina, he was wanted too much. And, like them, he did not want any of it.
Jonathan Harker is not weak for that.
No narrative that tries to warp him into either a quailingly repressed hater of powerful women, or secretly willing cheater with the Brides or Dracula, or any other copout to make it seem like a softer, ignorable, unctuous little footnote in someone else's liberating vampire fetish take on Dracula in which he is unceremoniously booted aside for Mina and the Count's ribald affair which is automatically a better thing than Jonathan daring to have such with the Brides or Dracula has any merit to it. Period. But the infuriating fact is, yeah. The latter are an overwhelming majority in films, shows, and books.
So I feel no shame whatsoever in being as indulgent as possible in my portrayal of Jonathan as the first and most long-term damaged victim of the Count; the only victim in the book who was not one of Dracula's idle afterthoughts, but a meticulous and coveted project. His pain and his appeal are both overdue a spotlight by over a century. So it's all going into whatever I write with him.
#had a ramble and rant to get out this morning whoops#I have Thoughts and I have Feelings about Mr. Jonathan Harker can you tell#jonathan harker#dracula#penclosa#my writing
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I'm so sorry I don't know if you still have cotrk thoughts but I just want to say I really enjoy your appreciation of the Bloor family. They have a lot going on. It's really tragic for them but it's so fun. I just needed to talk to Someone about them.
My sweet beautiful anon I am literally always having CotRK thoughts and ESPECIALLY thoughts about the Bloors. When I say I was not the target audience for this series I mean that even as a kid (I think 8-10 when first starting to read them) I was digging into things probably slightly too deep and loving how fucked up the relationships and backstories were. Middle grade books where almost every character has severe trauma and it’s up to the reader to decide how closely they want to look at it are some of my favorite works.
I’m also really into some of the themes of the series, like generational manipulation, hierarchy, bodily autonomy, etc. These are really interesting themes to explore in children’s fiction and I think it’s done fairly well in CotRK because Nimmo lets it be dark and grim, but also filtered through a child’s understanding. It would be a supremely different vibe as narrated by Paton, with the decades of trauma and history he has with each of the other characters and his much, much bleaker perspective on family and his own freedom. There’s some weird like. Biological determinism angles going on which I really don’t like (and also are internally inconsistent in some ways), and I think it’s fair to critique that but it should also be understood in the context as basically a staple of the genre and so not surprising.
The Bloors tie in with those above themes really well because Bartholomew, Harold, and Manfred are all defined by how they are/have been controlled by Ezekiel. They all only exist because of Ezekiel’s desire for power and endowed descendants. Bartholomew was only allowed to get away because he’d already produced a child for Ezekiel. Harold and Manfred have grown up entirely controlled by Ezekiel, essentially as his tools. They seem to be in agreement with him because of those biological determinism issues noted above, but I think the textual backstory given to both can’t be ignored. Harold lost both parents at a young age and was raised in an environment where being endowed was everything and he isn’t. Manfred is endowed and his endowment is a weapon that is immediately put to use even as a baby. Bart existed to make Harold, then Harold existed to make Manfred, then Manfred existed to be used for whatever Ezekiel wanted. They are fucked up for good reason.
I also am just obsessed with some of the timeline stuff like. Age-wise Paton and Harold have to have more backstory than we really ever get to see because Harold is only two years older than Paton and so they would have for sure known each other at Bloor’s academy. What the fuck was that like?? How did Paton even attend the academy with his endowment??? And what was the academy like for Harold, to attend the school with his name on it, probably be head boy and all, but not be allowed in the King’s Room? His disparaging comments about the endowed in the third book are Really Weird and certainly speak to a lot of unresolved feelings about the endowed/not being endowed.
Anyhoo I should get my hands on a used set of the books so I can just annotate them to shreds
#also i think julia is a lesbian and should get with vivian vertigo#these books are not in any way perfect they just were the right type of Oh What to grab my brain as a kid and never let go#cotrk#harold bloor#paton yewbeam#manfred bloor#ezekiel bloor#bartholomew bloor#ecdysing#moss does books#i realize now like. i didnt even touch on ANY of the actual main characters/kids#trust me i have thoughts on them too#i just am more obsessed with the adults and have been since i was a kid because theres. so much going on#children of the red king
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Since you have MTMTE notebooks 1-4: what kind of content do 3-4 add? I mean, I know they’re author commentary and all, but are there any fun new highlights that really change the way you looked at something that weren’t in 1-2? (And as a side note do you think JRo will ever do a 5-6?)
It adds content from much later on in the process, basically! It includes extensive notes relating to planning for post-s1 content and shows how the process changed alongside alterations to the original "plan" Roberts had as stuff externally came in (so e.g. stuff changing because Dark Cybertron happened, etc).
Which is definitely interesting because it's planning in a different way than vol. 1-2 showcase. Those are someone doing "pre-production", whereas this is doing work while you write the comic to lay future groundwork. In that regard it's very interesting. There's some really bonkers "throw shit at the wall" ideas in there above and beyond 1-2, I think because of that element most likely, haha.
Things that stood out to me a lot was how late in the game he was still coming up with possible non-Primus alternate ideas for Rung, a lot of interesting stuff regarding bringing the new characters on post-women-exist-again mandate in terms of how he approaches it, and a lot of stuff regarding possible approaches to the Getaway mutiny. Overall I just think the notebooks are. A fascinating document. It is UNHEARD of for a comic of this type (intellectual property tie-in) to get this sort of extremely granular behind-the-scenes stuff released in huge quantities. (The scripts too, it's so WILD to me we have. Counts. At least 30 extant, sometimes-annotated scripts, I think???) If anyone has any specific questions about stuff in these feel free to ask btw, I can check them when I get home.
There will almost certainly be 5-6 bar disaster. I assume those would cover Lost Light, and given the high interest there's no reason not to if he enjoys doing it. I wouldn't expect them next year though, necessarily, since he's working on that fanzine book too. It should be very interesting to see what he says about the abrupt cancellation announcement from a BTS perspective, I think.
#ghhh god i have. like eight scripts to fix up for the archive. i just remembered.#ive been so tired agh#oop
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Any obscure but interesting location names?
I've always thought that Zhangye is a pretty fascinating location name. And it's a relatively obscure place compared to locations like Luoyang, Ye etc.
Zhangye is situated in the middle of the Hexi corridor, in the Han's Liang province, and after the Sui-Tang eras mostly under Ganzhou Prefecture. The characters 張掖 Zhangye literally means “open arms/armpits”, not a typical nice-sounding name at all.
Ying Shao of the Later Han in his annotations of the Book of Han gave an explanation for such a strange name:
張國臂掖，故曰張掖也。
[It is to] open the state's arms, hence called Zhangye.
The Book of Han also states:
武帝……初置四郡，以通西域，鬲絕南羌、匈奴。
Emperor Wu... first established the 4 commanderies (Wuwei, Zhangye, Jiuquan, Dunhuang), so as to link up [the Han with] the Western Realms, [and to] cut off the Southern Qiangs and Xiongnus.
It certainly is an interesting name stemming from a time of invested interests in the Western Realms and intense conflicts with the nomadic tribes near the northwestern frontier. Yet, centuries after the Han Dynasty and the Xiongnus were long gone, the name remains, a living memory of the distant past buried beneath the sands.
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If you're still taking prompts I would absolutely love to see your take on "learning more about their interests so they have a common thing to talk about" for Geraskier ♡ Have a lovely day, I love to read your works.
Thank you so much, dear 💜
Jaskier had never been very studious. Oh, sure, he had his degree and all, but that was mostly because he was really good at pretending to know things and fill in the gaps with educated guesses. Somehow, it had all worked out. He had mastered history somehow, despite mostly using his text book to hide a bottle of ale behind it.
So. Jaskier had never been one sit sit over books and study.
Until now that was. Because now, it was a matter of life and death. Well, perhaps he was being a bit dramatic, but it certainly was a matter of great importance.
He drew his brows together in CO centration and leaned closer to the book, as if that would change anything about his ability to absorb the information.
The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is a domesticated, one-toed, hoofed mammal. It belongs to the taxonomic family Equidae and is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus (see footnotes).
Sweet Melitele, he couldn't count the times he had read that line and he still was none the wiser for it. And it was on the first page. The first sentence to be exact. He felt like there was simultaneously no new information and too much information in that one line.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to read on.
He could do that. For Geralt, he could make it through this whole damn book and the five other books on different horse breeds, the history of war horses and the proper way of taking care of a horse, he had managed to hunt down at the Academy of Oxenfurt.
He would read them and he would understand them and he would woo Geralt with his impressive knowledge about horses.
He just had to keep reading.
Horses in the subspecies caballus are domesticated, although some domesticated populations...
Jaskier's eyelids grew heavy and he had to stifle a yawn. Somehow it was so much easier and more interesting to listen to Geralt talk about horse facts than it was to read about them. How could a book be so boring in comparison? Geralt wasn't even that great of a story teller. But the way he relaxed, his shoulders loosing their tension and an excited smile spreading over his face whenever he went on about the merits of different horse breeds somehow made it impossible not to hang on his lips.
Jaskier wanted so desperately to be able to talk to him about this topic that made Geralt so happy.
He flipped through the book until he found a picture. Even that was boring. Countless complicated annotations described different parts of the horse's anatomy.
He narrowed his eyes, but he couldn't for the life of him concentrate. His mind kept bouncing from thinkung about Geralt's smile to telling him to focus. It left no room in his head for the information in the book.
With a groan, Jaskier dropped his head on the book. At least it made a decent pillow. That was the least it could do, for making him so sleepy.
Maybe, Jaskier wouldn't be able to make it through that book after all. But maybe, he didn't have to. Maybe it would be much better to simply ask Geralt about horses.
With a smile on his lips, Jaskier fell asleep and dreamed about the way Geralt would light up when he saw that Jaskier wanted to listen to him rant endlessly about horses.
(credit for the horse facts goes to this Wikipedia article)
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bored and should be sleeping but i'm gonna be irresponsible and go into fmf/ctf author annotations mode instead
i adore reliable unreliable narrator jace for a lot of reasons but something that i have fun with is how his near-perfect-but-not-quite competence+awareness interplays with good parent(but not necessarily good person) daemon. there's a lot of conflicting views abt daemon as a person within the fandom and within show/book canon, and as someone who hasn't read f&b but who tries to lead with george's characterizations, i very much fall back on the description of daemon as that deliciously gray "wonder and terror of his age..not a man so admired, so beloved, and so reviled in all Westeros...made of light and darkness in equal parts." (honestly is it any wonder why he's george's fav with a description like that? valid) and to me, both book and show - though the show+showriters can be somewhat inconsistent - agree that daemon is very deeply a family man who is unfailingly loyal to the people he cares abt.
i especially love the bit that says "to some he was a hero, to others the blackest of villains" bc it implies that the identity of his observer matters and influences which parts of himself daemon shows or leans more into.
it's why his relationship with jace - and specifically how jace perceives daemon - is so interesting in the CTF universe bc he def understands that daemon is capable of monstrous acts (and that he even occassionally delights in them) but daemon's also raised him? been good to him and his mother and his siblings as long as he's ever known him? jace doesn't view daemon as perfect by any means, logically he knows there are parts of his stepfather that are terrifying, but he's also aptly positioned to think daemon's best/kindest/noblest parts are more easily accessible to him and their family.
for example, the section in CTF ch2 abt jace thinking he can ask daemon to spare jaehaerys and maelor when nyra becomes queen and daemon will just agree...how true really is this? (the original circumstances of blood and cheese aside) i'd say it depends on how secure daemon views rhaenyra's reign, his mood that day, and/or how good jace+nyra+rhaena are at convincing him. i don't have any clear answers myself bc the man is just that mercurial but jace? jace certainly believes he does
anyway, food for thought going forward in the fic lol just wanted to share a little bit of my process behind writing but idk i'll probably delete this in the morning🤷🏻♀️🤡
#actually have a lot of these annotations i could do#((literally could say smth abt damn near every line i wrote & what piece it fills in the puzzle))#but i'm hesitant to share them bc i don't actually know how much anyone cares for them#and also as a fire and blood book virgin i'm constantly just secondguessing my characterizations#like am i actually being an idiot rn am i running a circus and everyone's abt to watch the whole tent come crashing down#that'd be embarassing very cringefail of me LMAO#but yeah regarding daemon specifically i think one of his greatest character traits/strengths is his ambiguity#it's very fun to play with and only gets more fun bc the story isn't being told from his pov but jace's#((which is gonna make writing daemon's pov when i finally get to it very interesting))
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