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tiffanylamps · 2 years

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Beyond Evil: the Romantic Rain trope

Hello! Guess who's back on their shit again... Me!

When I first finished watching Beyond Evil/ 괴물 on 5/02/22 (yes, I know, it surprised me too during the last episode), I immediately started writing an essay about the show's queer subtext/queer coding. The essay is an analysis of episodes 1-8... and it's ridiculously long and unfinished (and probably never will be finished). This post includes the opening parts. I like them, so I have decided to share them. These opening thoughts surround the rain scene in episode two and how it is romantic in tone.

[I do have another bit analysing Dong Sik's queer coding, which I might post one day.] So, yeah, this is a part of a larger piece. So, that's why it feels a bit incomplete.

A disclaimer: ~ I use the word ‘queer’, a lot. But this is not meant as a derogatory/offensive term. But instead, is used by its reclaimed meaning: a generalised term to refer to someone who isn’t heterosexual.Also, all spellings of characters’ names are taken from AsianWiki.

(my very gloomy-looking screenshots)

Enjoy!

“Why are you doing this to me? Why?” Han Joo Won talking to Lee Dong Sik (episode 5).

Have you ever asked someone a question that they refuse to answer? Instead of giving you the information you want, they dance around it, jump to conclusions, and add the right amount of distraction; until you can’t even remember what you asked in the first place. This is a recurrence of Beyond Evil’s main characters Lee Dong Sik and Han Joo Won. Their conversations and arguments often spark one of them to ask a question that the other does not answer.

This happens numerous times throughout the first half of the series. Typically, these questions are of the following nature:

“Just what about me interests you so much?” Lee Dong Sik, episode 2

“It’s a dangerous thing to become attached to someone. Don’t you think?” Lee Dong Sik, episode 4

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” Lee Dong Sik, episode 5

(English translations taken from Netflix)

Oftentimes these questions are more for the audience to ponder on, rather than for the characters to outright answer. This is why they aren’t answered with verbal confirmation but instead, with the character’s actions.

In the thriller, crime, and mystery genres, it is usual to have a protagonist investigate and chase our anti-hero/sympathetic villain. Beyond Evil (otherwise known as Monster/ 괴물) uses this narrative trope as the basis of its storytelling: one hotshot young guy comes from the big city to investigate an older seemingly unhinged man of a crime he may or may not have committed. But over time, as the protagonist learns more, we get to see the shades of ambiguity that are bursting at the seams. Furthermore, both characters will be forever changed because of their relationship and the events that follow.

One element that makes Beyond Evil stand out from others within the same genre is that this story isn’t really about a small hometown murder. It uses the murders within this rural area as a canvas in which to tell the real story: love. One way this is proven is that the story focuses on the victims and their friends and families, and the overall community, instead of the killer(s).

Beyond Evil explores and showcases the Ancient Greeks’ philosophy of the seven kinds of love:

Eros: romantic love; passionate, lustful, the want for sexual intimacy Philia: friendship; affectionate, platonic, sweet and equal Storge: familial; strong bonds, kin-ship, unconditional Agape: altruism; empathy, selflessness, love for worldly experiences Ludus: new love; non-committal, flirtatious, playful Pragma: committed love; long-term relationships, companionship, maturity Philautia: self-love; self-esteem, self-worth, a necessity

(information source: https://www.wellandgood.com/greek-words-for-love/)

It is a story highlighting the importance of love: all the different kinds of love we encounter in our lives; how we are affected by them; what it looks like to live without love; including, when it's time to accept love and when it's time to let it go. But most importantly, sometimes, you can find love in the most unexpected place.

[But before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s sprinkle some background information and analyse the first half (the first act, if you will) of Beyond Evil (episodes 1-8) and look at how Joo Won ended up broken-hearted in Dong Sik’s front garden.] Redacted for this post.

On the first watch-through of this show, the audience is told the story predominantly through Joo Won’s gaze; which is biassed and trifled with unreliable narration. Through his perspective, we are toyed with and encouraged to constantly doubt the other characters. The show expertly uses Alfred Hitchcock’s film theory Pure Cinematics for instilling doubt, harnessing the power of the editing process to define the visual narrative. In other words, the show creators displayed a key understanding of how the narrative changes with context.

The best example of this is the butcher shop sequence on the night of Kang Min Jeong's disappearance. We are first introduced to the sequence from Joo Won’s perspective: all of Dong Sik’s actions are awkward and suspicious, and we over-analyse his movements and actions/inactions to come to the conclusion that he’s done something. Then later on in the show, we revisit this sequence from Dong Sik’s perspective and yes, he has done something but not what we were led to believe. All of his awkward and suspicious behaviour becomes a painful and morally grey experience, where the audience feels great sympathy for him.

The context defines the narrative. Without the full context, we do not get the full story.

And only with the full context, can we look past the structure of the piece and unveil the answers to the questions that are asked... we reveal the truth.

Whilst rewatching the show, the viewing experience is completely different. All the pieces are already fitted into place, so I spent less time trying to decipher and instead, leisurely trying to digest. The experience is nowhere near as suspenseful but far more gut-wrenching. This is because the viewer already has the full story - the full context - everyone’s actions and inactions are accounted for: we know why x was acting sketchy in episode y because of what they did 20 years ago, and so on.

When everyone’s actions are accounted for it is a lot easier to follow the story from Dong Sik’s perspective. We see the injustices that innocent people go through more harshly, we also see the cruelty of the guilty from the get-go. We are able to focus on the smaller details of people’s relationships, instead of thinking about the big picture. We are also able to take the time to truly understand the visual language the creators are showing us and how that shapes the narrative.

There is one sequence that comes to mind that is told purely from Joo Won’s perspective. There is no dialogue during this particular sequence of shots, so the audience is completely reliant on the visual language to understand what is being conveyed. This scene is greatly important for the show as a whole, as it gives us an uncensored look into Joo Won’s thoughts. Without it, the narrative of the story would be different, as it adds context to Joo Won’s actions later on in the series. That scene is from episode two.

iii

Joo Won and Dong Sik are on patrol, still getting used to each other as partners. One) because their personalities clash and two) because Joo Won is actively investigating Dong Sik for murder, which is just hanging there between them. They stop their patrol to help a disabled young adult who is lost in the rain. Dong Sik takes charge of the situation because he is better equipped at interacting with disabled people and the people of Manyang (and the wider Munju area) as a whole. This scene is one of the most important as it is an untainted humanisation of Dong Sik’s character, giving the audience (and Joo Won) a first glimpse into who Dong Sik really is.

Up until this point, Joo Won has only seen Dong Sik as a character: the killer; “the suspect” as Dong Sik later describes it. He vehemently dislikes him but still has a misguided interest in Dong Sik’s life. But this suddenly is challenged. Standing there in the rain, with no shoes on, smiling at the young man who is dancing, we get to see what Joo Won sees for the first time: kindness, humility, and beauty.

It’s a glitch in the system.

This scene is slightly baffling. It poses the question of what the creators are truly trying to tell its audience. Is it that these two characters work best when they are unified and Joo Won’s assumptions of Dong Sik are wrong?... Well, yes ... but also, of course, hiding in plain sight is the subtext that Joo Won is gay/queer.

Which point takes paramount importance? It would seem that in this scene it’s the subtext. We see why this is so through the sequence of shots:

After the situation has been assessed by the pair and they have come to an agreement. Joo Won goes to the shop to get supplies to help with the young man and when he returns, we, the audience, are faced with a sequence of ever-closing in close-up shots. With each cut, the camera is showing us what Joo Won is choosing to focus on; where his eyes are gravitating. What is odd about the sequence is the information that is chosen to be shared: Dong Sik's feet, the umbrella, the smile: kindness, humility, beauty.

Joo Won returns to the pair and falters, he seems shocked into stillness. Which almost seems frivolous, as Joo Won is already privy to two-thirds of the information being presented.

Joo Won already knew that Dong Sik had given his shoes to the young man.

He knew about the umbrella because he is the one who gave it to Dong Sik to use.

Then… they cut to a slow-motion close-up of Dong Sik’s smiling face, rain behind him and sunshine kissing his face. This last shot is the only piece of information we didn’t have before Joo Won went to the shop because it’s Joo Won’s thoughts at that moment. It’s no longer information that can be detailed in a police report but a deeply human moment. He has digested the information in front of him and this is his conclusion: beauty.

This screams romantic undertones- especially with the knowledge that rain is often used as a romantic trope in visual media. “Rain seems to go along with pivotal moments in characters' lives. It's implied that if you can ignore bad weather and brave the elements, then your big moment is even more real and intense and genuine. If you want to be deserving of your love, you won't care if it's raining, you will rush out into the rain to be with her or him-” tvtopes.org, Romantic Rain.

This trope is used often within Korean media, especially within the romance genres. So, it is a visual language that is common knowledge with Korean audiences. It is less likely to be seen within the crime and mystery genres, so it speaks volumes that the creators decided to include it.

Here are three examples of Korean dramas that use the Romantic Rain trope to show the protagonists have romantic feelings for one another:

Legend of the Blue Sea: offering an umbrella as protection/taking someone into your care Flower of Evil: Hee Sung allows himself to become soaked because of his feelings Goblin: slow motion shot of the characters passing one another in the rain

How Beyond Evil uses the same visuals within this scene:

Protection: Joo Won gives Dong Sik an umbrella and forensic shoe covers Soaked: Joo Won stops mid-run to stare at Dong Sik in the rain, seemingly awestruck/concerned Slow-motion: Joo Won’s perspective in the following sequence of close-ups is in slow motion

This scene is not the moment that Joo Won realises the extent of his feelings for Dong Sik. It is used as supporting evidence for the later conversations Joo Won has with Park Jung Je and Nam Sang Bae. In which he is asked by both of them why he cares so much about the cold case (in which Dong Sik is his suspect). To which, Joo Won replies the first time he’s asked:

“This is Lee Dong Sik’s–”

He shouts this and has to stop himself, calming down to answer that he’s determined to solve the cold case because one of the victims is Lee Dong Sik’s sister. The key person in that answer is Lee Dong Sik. He is the reason Han Joo Won cares so deeply [and because of his own personal involvement] about a case that no police officer would try to solve: “-there isn’t a single cop in the country that would prioritise such a case.” [Park Jung-Je.]

Han Joo Won is a determined person. When he sets his mind to something, he will achieve it, even if it upsets other people or hurts himself. He’s a person who cares deeply about things and can become easily fixated. If the creators wanted us to see Joo Won’s actions deriving from a place of spite or a self-righteous need for the truth, they would never have used the Romantic Rain trope.

Following the scene in the rain, Joo Won chooses to not act upon what he felt then and instead, suppresses his feelings. It makes sense. He’s experiencing attraction (eros) for his murder suspect; the man that he has been obsessing over; the man who only now is more than just a character to him. He is becoming a human and a very attractive one, at that.

Joo Won doesn’t know what to do with that newfound knowledge. So… he starts to lose his cool. This is obviously aided by other factors…

Without this scene, and those particular shots, Joo Won’s intense interest in Dong Sik and his mental decline over the next two episodes wouldn’t make as much sense. When we take the queer subtext into consideration, it makes the puzzle pieces fit all that bit more snuggly. It gives us the knowledge that Joo Won has humanised Dong Sik in his mind, he likes what he sees and he doesn’t know how that fits around his rigid moral compass… and what Joo Won knows about himself because really this scene is more about Joo Won discovering himself than it is about Joo Won discovering Dong Sik.

---

Look how devastated he is. This man has literally stalked the very handsome man he's staring at, has taken pictures of him, has said pictures on his tablet/printed out, spends his days staring at these pictures whilst biting his lip- then gets all bent out of shape because he realises he's attracted to him?? Baffling.

That is it for that scene's analysis, I remember writing more but I must have deleted it at some point. Anyway, hope that was entertaining and easy to read (I have the tendency to ramble on/make grammatical errors haha).

See ya!

#beyond evil #jtbc beyond evil #han juwon #han joo won #lee dongsik #jwds #sir is it gay to use romantic tropes #whilst staring at your murder suspect??#look how beautiful jw thinks ds is!#my guy is doomed #beyond evil analysis

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batsclass101-blog · 11 months

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Dead People Book Club - Part 1

(Inspired by a post on @someoneimsure , I’m new to writing for the batman/batfam fandom, this is actually my first post for them, hope you all enjoy! Also this has an OC who forced me to write it as a friendship with a bit of a crush. ... Most likely will be more than one part! )

“Local Scarecrow sightings... Police recommend the west side of Gotham remain indoors and secure toxin masks. Have a wonderful day--- Now onto--”

A groan escaped Hero Kingsley as she fumbled for the remote to her crummy TV. She’d fell asleep watching a documentary of some sort after a long evening studying. It was not a wonderful day, the brunette squinted hazel eyes at the too bright screen. It couldn’t be more than four in the morning. She ground the palms of her hands against her gritty eyes. No morning in Gotham was truly wonderful.

‘Aren’t you just a Suzie Sunshine.’ Hero flinched at the imaginary voice of her mother before batting it away and rolling off her half demolished, rescue couch.

Despite the warnings of a Gotham Rogue on the loose, Hero had places to be, namely her job. College was one thing to risk her life for, she could ace her classes easily, but she needed the money. In the cog of things, every Gothamite knew the importance of money to survive in the city.

“If I were still on speaking terms with my parents it wouldn’t be an issue. Huh Doyle?” Hero shot a small smile at the tattered looking black cat perched on the back of the couch. “I’d still have the Vette, but I’d be stuck at some society party. I’d rather work myself through college any day.”

A lazy meow mingled with the insistent drip coming from the roof. The joys of living in Crime Alley never ceased to amaze Hero. It was such a change from her upbringing among the blue bloods of Gotham, but she was determined to make it without her parents' interference.

“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” Hero tossed on a pair of jeans, neon green super-glued tennis shoes, and an old Gotham Academy Book Club shirt. The nerdy “I’m booked for the weekend, Gotham Academy Literary Club,” emblem always made her smile. She didn’t miss the snooty upper crust classmates she was tossed about with.

She shuffled around making toast and coffee, listening to the morning radio announcements and fixing her hair. A glance at the clock alerted her to the need to leave to catch a bus or at least get past any criminals.

“Gun check, pepper spray check. Purse with no money. Phone, keys... Think that’s all. Keep the place upright Doyle. I’ll be back before you know it.”

____________________

Hero was a strange character in general, for various reasons. Reason number one, she willingly ostracized herself from her blue-blood family to live in Crime Alley. Number two, she happened to love walking through the dangerous neighborhood... it must be the Gotham in her blood. Reason number three was her insistence of gaining a college degree rather than going into her family’s business (one that was questionable) in her opinion.

The scent of stale cigarette smoke, booze, and other questionable odors pierced past the gasmask as she high stepped through the streets. She smiled a little as she passed a working girl, Ginny, who warned her to hurry as Scarecrow had been sighted headed towards the area.

“I’ll hurry and I’ll be sure to shoot you a text to see if its all clear. Thanks a million Gin.”

“Sure, thing Hero. Just stay safe.”

It was an unspoken code among the women in Crime Alley to keep one another safe. Hero had learned a lot since her arrival to the Alley, it had included the unspoken women’s code and the second was that most of the Alley didn’t ask questions about her strange name. If she’d been brave enough, she’d have used her pretentious first name, Octavia. She smiled as she pocketed a stray switchblade, in a lot of ways she loved Crime Alley.

‘You’re as insane as your name is pretentious.’ Hero rolled her eyes at the voice of an old bully in her head. Everyone has their quirks,

It took around an hour but eventually Hero made it to the combination cafe and used bookstore she’d snagged a job at. Books and Bites was a bit of a corny name, but the little hole in the wall had become quite popular. The pay was a smidge above minimum wage and Hero got free food, so she wasn’t about to complain.

“Morning Short Stacks! Did you walk through the valley of the shadow of death safely?”

“Perfectly fine. It was a lovely walk, the fumes of Scarecrow hadn’t even made it to my apartment.” Hero shot her coworker, Derry a grin. “You should come over sometime, you can help crush cockroaches. Also, keep calling me Short Stacks, I’m five foot two but I can take you in a fight.”

“Right...Private lessons with Red Hood?” Derry smirked as he moved to flip the open sign on.

“I’m beginning to think he’s a myth. I’ve lived in Crime Alley for years and I’ve yet to spot him. Toxin induced hallucinations if you ask me.” Hero slipped an apron on and began prepping the morning pastries.

“He’s real! Don’t you ever watch the news?” The Indian boy rolled his eyes and turned on some soft jazz.

“Not if I can help it. Unfortunately, it’s a must in Gotham. That is if you want to survive.”

“Have you found yourself a new book club yet?”

“No, unfortunately I’m too busy working and going to college. Alas. The joys of posh living have long abandoned me!” Hero flailed dramatically. “But if I do find one. You’ll be welcome to join.”

“Not me, I’m only working here to pay part of the bills.”

Hero shook her head and turned to sort through the newest batch of book donations. Already she could feel that the day would be an extra-long day. The gloomy sky brightened just enough to tell that dawn had reached the dark city.

The day pressed onwards, and the former socialite thought carefully about Derry’s reminder about joining a book club. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered extra-curricular activities, but there was little time to enjoy such things...though it wouldn’t be the same as her high school book club. All day long her mind flitted to her old book club.

She hadn’t necessarily loved that club, in fact there wasn’t much she liked about Gotham Academy. Her desire had been to attend public school, but that was shot down quickly. She wanted to be normal; however, being from a family as old as the Waynes of Gotham had made that impossible. She’d taken to selective mutism, and it almost worked except for the school snobs that wanted in good with her. Her parents kept demanding she join more clubs so she’d chosen Gotham Academy’s Literary Club. She hated it until Jason Todd-Wayne had joined.

_______________________________________________

Four years prior - Gotham Academy

“I was just diagnosed with IBS—Impulsive Book-Reading Syndrome. Really?” Hero narrowed her eyes at the Club President. “That sounds... really classy. I’m sure that Principal Henson will love that.”

“And what do you suggest Octavia?” Sharon Dillard snarled imperiously.

“If I was suggesting something...it would be better than that,” She blew a huge bubble. “Sophisticatedly corny. Not something that would remind me of bowel movements.”

“Listen here---”

“What about a Jane Austen quote,” Hero crossed her legs with a smirk.

“I second that.” A deep voice cut into the discussion causing Hero to turn.

“You have something to add Todd?”

“Like I said, I second Shakespeare’s motion,” Jason sent Hero an easy smile. “I’d rather not wear something about body functions and books.” He propped his feet up on a nearby table and stared Sharon down.

“FINE. Let’s hear it Octavia.”

“I’m booked for the weekend, Gotham Academy Literary Club. It’s simple, tasteful and our parents will actually let us wear it. Most of us couldn’t even wear that around the house. You might get away with it...if you’re new money.”

“All in favor?” Jason smirked and raised his own hand.

________________

Present

All her memories of her old book club reassured Hero that she’d never find another one that measured up. She shook her head as she waved goodbye to her coworkers and headed off for her weekly grocery run. No book club could stand up to the fond moments Jason had brought to the club. He was the freshness that the club and the school needed.

Hero had considered him a friend early on, even though they mostly chatted in club meetings and on the group chat...but it was sincere interaction. Sincerity was something that she longed for in a world of liars. As school crept on she slowly worked up the courage to share silent lunches in the library with Jason.

He was her friend whether he knew it or not. She’d swapped copies of rare books with him, packed extra junk-food to share in the library and proceeded to share all the high society gossip so he’d have ammunition for the school snobs.

When he’d died, she’d been shaken. It wasn’t fair and most of her “equals” were unmoved by his death. That was the straw that broke her. She didn’t have many real friends, friends she could trust... but Jason, he was a sort-of-friend, someone she could drop the act. She wasn’t Octavia with him, just Shakespeare. A passing fellow reader that didn’t give him a hard time and just accepted him.

_______________

“Seventy dollars and eighty-three cent.”

‘My grocery bill will be my villain origin story.’ Hero shelled out her money and hoisted up her bags and headed out. She needed to hurry home if she wanted to catch the Pride and Prejudice reruns from the BBC. The streets of the nicer side of Gotham brought back lots of memories...sometimes it played on her mind.

Crowds swarmed around Hero as she marched towards the bus stop. It wouldn’t take her directly into Crime Alley, but it would get her closer and save her tired legs. Cautious eyes darted around watching for any potential threat. Living on edge was key when you chose to live in Gotham. Right before she made it to the bus stop, a familiar set of shoulders caused Hero to pause... She felt herself pale.

“Jason... It can’t be...”

#jasontodd oc #imagine batfam friendshiptolove #friends to lovers #wholesome #batfamily #jason todd #jason todd deserves better #Jason Todd deserves love

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ruthlesslistener · 2 years

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Maybe I'm hungry, but any food headcannons for hk characters?

I am Sleepy rn so I can't do the comprehensive foodmap that I still want to do for all of the regions of Hallownest, so instead I'm going to settle with the most common foods per region

Dirtmouth/surface settlements: Small meat items like tiktiks and gruzzers roasted with wild herbs and tubers found in the general area. Many small prey bugs are abundant in this region, and populations are carefully picked through to encourage more growth without impacting the nesting broodmothers, which are cultivated and killed only when a replacement starts breeding. Grains, vegetables, and fungi are traded for this meat from the City of Tears proper. Dirtmouth being a commerce point meant that they also had a lot of foreign goods traded in pre-fall

The Mosskin: Feast primarily on a selection of small wild blooms from specific moss types in Greenpath. They are vegetarian, viewing the partaking of meat as a waste of the life that Unn's dream brought forth, and view outside food with suspicion. This caution is well warrented, however- many of the flora in Greenpath is heavily acidic, which means that only select plants are safe to eat. It is inadvisable for outsiders to attempt to consume anything that a Mosskin has not touched

The Mantis Tribe: Subsides on any and all living bugs, as well as the flesh of the Shrumal shrooms, which is unnervingly meatlike. They are ruthless hunters, but unlike the spider tribes in Deepnest, they have a code of honour that prevents them from attacking moving caravans or any other type of trader that might provide sustenance to either them, or their prey. Part of the reason why they allied with the Pale King was based off of this- he told them that as long as they kept the hunters of Deepnest away from trade routes, he would turn a blind eye to any civilian deaths in their territory, which allowed them to continue to live their traditional lifestyle without much worry about the kingdom next door raising a fuss

Deepnest: A nearly fully carnivorous society, where mushrooms are really only used to flavor things and anything is fair game. The spiders are deeply spiritual when it comes to hunting, believing that intelligent bugs must be given the proper hunting and death rites to prevent their spirits from becoming the faceless Nosk, but they do not have an honour system and will eat anything they consider to be fair game- aka, in their territory, or snared in their webs. The Mantis Tribe has the highest intelligent bug ratio eaten, but survivability is at its lowest in Deepnest, as most spiders are not keen to let a meal escape when the next might be clever enough to skirt around their web

The Moth Tribe: Originally dined on a mixture of sweet nectar from wild flowers and surface-collected greenery, which has since changed to farmed wild rices and other grains along the sides of the Blue Lake. While food is more abundant this way, it's a little too heavy for most, and there is some suspicion as to whether or not a changed diet lead to a decline in the health of their populations (that wasn't related to them being unable to survive without the Radiance)

The City of Tears: The most varied of the bunch, with the greatest variety of foods brought in from all over Hallownest and beyond. While no one meal plan dominates the more omnivorous, varied populace, the beetle tribe is particularily well-known for its ability to cultivate wild grains along the banks of the Blue Lake, a practice perfected with the aid of the White Lady. This grain is usually traded to Dirtmouth in exchange for fresh meats and tubers, as feeding the chaff to the wild beasts keeps them away from the fields and thus allows for a meat-plant pseudofarming system to get going

#Hollow Knight #hollow knight headcanons #food headcanons #anon #reply

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udo0stories · 1 month

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New York City is the most iconic and most visited city in the United States. With its distinctive skyline, diverse neighborhoods, world-class museums, incredible Broadway productions, and melting pot of cultures, NYC attracts millions of visitors each year. (It’s also the place I call home.) New York City is huge. I mean, ten million people live here. Where do you stay when you’re here? There are so many hotels to choose from. To help you plan your visit and narrow down your options, here’s my list of the best hotels in NYC: 1. East Village Hotel Located in the East Village, my absolute favorite neighborhood in NYC, this boutique aparthotel is run more like an Airbnb than a traditional hotel. You get sent a code before arrival to check in, and there’s no staff or restaurant on site (though an outpost of The Bean, a popular NYC café, is right downstairs). The studio apartments are designed to reflect the neighborhood’s bohemian spirit, with contemporary artistic décor, beautiful exposed brick walls, and lots of natural light. The kitchenettes include a stovetop, refrigerator, microwave, dishwasher, and silverware. Rooms include comfy pillowtop beds, showers with good water pressure, a flatscreen TV, and complimentary bath products. Everything is pretty compact, but in an area with few hotels, this is one of the best-value spots. Stay here if you want to be in a central location with tons of great restaurants and bars at your fingertips. 2. The Marlton Originally built in 1900, this historic boutique hotel in Greenwich Village has been home to many of the area’s bohemian set, including one of my favorite writers, Jack Kerouac (he even penned a few novellas here). I like that the hotel’s extensive renovations still kept its classic aesthetic. The beautiful interior has a stately feel, with ornate moldings, herringbone parquet floors, and vintage furnishings like brass light fixtures, ornate rugs, and custom-made furniture. The staff are super friendly too. The rooms are pretty small, but well designed to make use of the space. They come with flat-screen TVs, comfy beds with plush bedding, wardrobes, minibars, and marble bathrooms. The Marlton is also home to an excellent bar that serves incredible cocktails, and there’s a complimentary breakfast available too. I think it’s the best value for your money in the area. 3. Vocabulary: The Franklin This three-star hotel is in a 19th-century brownstone in the Upper East Side, the neighborhood I live in (if you see me, say hi!). The rooms here are simple, but the hotel has some great perks, like a free 24-hour espresso bar and a standard late checkout time of 12 p.m. The restaurant is currently being renovated, so there’s no breakfast available on-site, but there are tons of places just steps away. The rooms are decorated in a minimal (but cozy) style, with white-painted chandeliers and cute original art. All rooms come with large TVs and comfy pillow-top mattresses, while their larger rooms come with a desk and easy chair. Everything is newly renovated, and the glass-enclosed showers have excellent pressure. The location is great too, as it’s on a quiet, leafy street close to Central Park and Museum Mile. 4. Hotel Indigo This four-star hotel is dedicated to supporting local street art and artists, and you’ll see plenty of their work throughout the building. The rooftop bar, Mr. Purple, is a favorite among locals for fancy cocktails, and on the weekends, the area turns into an upscale club. (Because of that, it’s a 21+ hotel.). There’s even a heated pool on the rooftop too. The rooms boast hardwood floors, bold artwork, and floor-to-ceiling windows with impressive views over the city. All rooms also include Keurig machines, desks, and a minibar (for which you get a $20 USD credit). The bathrooms are large, beautifully tiled, and feature rainfall shower heads. While there’s no breakfast served on site, you’re just steps away from tons of great eateries open at all hours. Overall,

I think this hotel is the best place to stay if you want to experience NYC’s legendary nightlife. 5. The Standard The Standard is one of the best hotels in the city (I think this East Side location is even better than the one in the Meatpacking district). The bar serves some of the best drinks in town and is usually always packed with NY’s fashionable set. There’s a café where you can get breakfast in the mornings too. The recently renovated rooms are gorgeous, decorated in a minimal design with bright pops of color and lots of natural light thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows. They’re pretty big too, especially by NYC standards. All rooms at this four-star hotel feature plush beds, fluffy down pillows, huge flatscreen TVs, Bluetooth speakers, cozy bathrobes, work desks, and stocked minibars. The bathrooms are spacious, with tiled walk-in showers and organic designer toiletries. You’ll also get complimentary access to the nearby Crunch gym (in case you want to work off all the delicious food from the plethora of nearby restaurants). 6. The Library Hotel Everything at this four-star hotel is book-related. Each of the ten floors has a different theme, and all of the 60 rooms have dozens of books that fit within that theme (the hotel has a collection of over 6,000 books!). There’s also a Reading Room lounge with work desks, cozy nooks for reading or writing, and 24/7 coffee, tea, snacks, and drinks. Guest rooms are a good size (for NYC) and feature rich wood furnishings in a sleek, contemporary design, with plush bedding, minibars, flatscreen TVs, desks, and luxury bath products. There’s also free breakfast, a rooftop terrace with a bar that serves literary-themed drinks, and really helpful staff. It’s a quiet respite from an otherwise busy and loud neighborhood. Stay here for a unique experience that’s close to major tourist sites like Times Square, the Empire State Building, and Grand Central Station. 7. The Sherry-Netherland Located on Fifth Avenue, right across from Central Park, this ornate five-star hotel is housed in a stunning Beaux-Arts building. The lobby boasts vaulted, painted ceilings and custom-made chandeliers, and the elevator even has a white-gloved operator, just to highlight how upscale this property is. The property’s Italian restaurant serves breakfast in the mornings, and there’s a fitness center available too. The spacious rooms are elegantly decorated, with mahogany desks, tasteful art on the walls, and large marble bathrooms. All rooms include flatscreen TVs, luxury bath products, complimentary soda, mineral water, and chocolates, and daily newspaper delivery. This is the place to stay if you want to splash out on a classy and timeless NYC hotel experience.

#Beautiful #Destinations #Discover #Travel #Vacation #City #Hotels #nyc #unitedstates #usa #York

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thedummysdummy · 2 years

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A Weekend in the Cabin: Part 1

Victor placed the two suitcases in the trunk of the car and closed it carefully. “This is your last chance to realize if you’ve forgotten anything. We aren’t turning around after we’ve left.”

The girl shook her head from the front seat of the car. “I’ve triple checked and we have everything! Even the new slippers and matching fuzzy robes. I’m so ready for this quiet weekend after how hard we’ve both been working this month. We’ve hardly gotten any time to spend together. I’ve missed you.” She pouted and Victor sighed, though an indulgent smile played with the corners of his mouth as he walked back to the driver’s side. He slid into his seat and turned the key to power up the engine, then grabbed her hand as he backed out of the driveway and pulled onto the highway.

The usual soft classical music filled the air in the cabin while the pair sat in comfortable silence. Nothing really needed to be said; everything they wished to communicate could be passed through their loosely entwined fingers. The girl did eventually break the silence; “How far is the cabin, Victor?”

“A few hours. You have plenty of time for a nap,” he replied, the lilt in his voice showing his pleasure. His guess was correct; within minutes, the girl had shifted so her head rested comfortably on his shoulder and her eyes closed. She clutched his arm to her chest and he enjoyed the calming rhythm of her breathing against his side. The city gradually fell away and gave way to rural farms and finally a medium sized forest.

The girl stirred as they entered the shaded road that wove its way through the trees. Dappled light which made its way through the leaves played on the hood of the car and the faces of the occupants as they slowly drove the mountainous road. The girl rolled down her window and took deep breaths of the fresh mountain air laced with birdsong. “It’s so beautiful,” she chirped, giving Victor’s hand a squeeze. “We definitely need to spend more time in the mountains like this. The air is so different here!”

Victor nodded indulgently, returning the squeeze. “That is what happens when the smog of city living isn’t being pushed into the area,” he teased.

“I know,” the girl replied with indignation followed by a laugh. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t wonderful! We are going to have so much fun, Victor. We can roast marshmallows and drink hot cocoa and explore the woods and lay out under the stars! Do you think we’ll see any animals? I would love to see a fox! Or even a bear, if we’re inside!”

“Perhaps. We’ll have to see what decides to wander too close to us when we get there. But I’m certain we’ll have plenty of fun.” The girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion at Victor’s tone, but he just chuckled and kept his eyes on the road. The wind from the window rippled his dark hair and she found herself again distracted by his strong jawline and handsome profile. It didn’t matter how many times she glanced over in the car and caught sight of him; every time, she was pulled back to that rainy night where the moonlight had emphasized yet softened that profile. Her heart warmed just by the thought of it.

Soon they came to a stop beneath a large pine tree. The gravel drive crunched beneath their tires and a soft breeze swished the branches above them. To their left was a small wooden cabin. It was fairly standard; stripped pine logs, green tin roof, little covered porch and white door flanked by large windows on either side. The girl spilled out of the car excitedly and began rushing from tree to tree, around the cabin, and back to Victor’s side like an excited puppy. “Are you satisfied with your exploration?” he teased as he put the access code into the keypad and turned the doorknob.

She nodded and brushed past him into the cabin to begin poking her head into every room. Victor chuckled and shook his head, heading back to the car to pick up their bags. The girl joined him moments later at the trunk to take one of the suitcases and happily made her way back inside with it. “It’s so cute!” she chattered. “There’s even a sauna and a huuuuuge bathtub. I bet we’ll both fit in it easily!” With a seductive wink she disappeared back into the cabin, leaving Victor blinking with surprise.

He found her in the kitchen when he entered with their remaining two bags, already snooping through cupboards and refrigerator. Her eyes lit up when she found everything fully stocked, no doubt at Victor’s request. Victor took the bags into the bedroom and when he returned, the girl had already pulled out supplies to make hot chocolate. “You couldn’t wait five minutes for a snack?” Victor teased, stalking up behind the girl and wrapping his arms around her waist. He buried his face in her neck and took a deep breath, allowing her scent to fill every cavity of his being.

She turned around and returned his embrace, laughing as she did so. “What? I told you before I fell asleep that I wanted to enjoy some cocoa with you! And besides, it’s nearly lunch time. It’s not like I just ate breakfast and now I’m clamoring for a snack.” She stuck out her lip indignantly and pleaded with her eyes.

Vicor sighed indulgently and patted her on the head. “I know, I know. I made sure that there would be something quick and easy to eat when we got here just because I knew you’d want lunch. There are ingredients for sandwiches in the refrigerator and chips in the cupboard. Or you can have sliced fruit instead if you’d prefer. Why don’t you go get that started and I’ll make the chocolate?”

The girl was fine with this, knowing that Victor would probably end up making the most delicious chocolate she had ever tasted. That was Victor, after all. A few moments of rummaging through the fridge yielded multiple deli meats and cheeses, sliced fruits, and condiments, while the cupboard gave up bread and small bags of chips. She placed them all on the counter and fetched two plates and a knife to begin making her masterpiece.

“Don’t forget the tomatoes and lettuce. You need vegetables in your life, not just meat and cheese.”

She grumbled and returned to the fridge, convinced he hadn’t even looked at what she’d gotten out already before (rightly) declaring she’d missed the roughage. But she did as she was told and returned to making her sandwich. By the time she was satisfied, the pot of milk was lightly frothing and the sweet scent of chocolate was beginning to fill the room. Victor finished with a pour of heavy cream and some chocolate shavings, ladled some into a cup, and placed the warm cup in his lover’s hand. She sniffed it appreciatively, the steam drifting pleasantly into her lungs.

Victor quickly assembled his own lunch and the pair made their way to the carved rocking chairs on the porch to eat. Little birds hopped around in the brush just on the other side of the driveway and the girl watched them with a smile on her face as she nibbled on her sandwich. Victor, on the other hand, had his eyes fully fixated on the most important person in his world. Just the slightest smile tugged the corners of his lips upward as he sipped at his steaming drink. His dark eyes seemed to glitter more than usual, though the girl was too distracted to notice.

After lunch, snow began gently drifting down to light upon the landscape. The girl watched through the window for a long time while Victor casually answered a few emails on his phone. “Come sit with me,” she eventually whined, patting the sofa beside her. “We’re on vacation. Put your phone away?”

“You were perfectly happy on your own, so why wouldn’t I get a little extra work done?” Victor replied, his tone frosty but his eyes mischievous. She pouted and Victor swept her up into his arms, setting her on his lap with his arms around her waist. “Better?”

“Mhmm,” the girl replied, resting her head on Victor’s collarbone and closing her eyes. “This cabin is really nice, but a little cold. Why don’t we go make use of that great big bathtub? It looks like it has jets in it and everything!” Her eyes opened and she looked up at him with her best possible impression of puppy eyes.

Victor stared back at her for a long moment with a steely face, but all it took was the girl running her hand down his cheek for him to end the game of hard to get and scoop her up in his arms again. She giggled and clung to Victor’s arm as he carried her toward the master bathroom and set her on the large bed. “I’ll go run the bath. You get ready.” His voice was husky and he hurried into the next room with what she had long since learned to interpret as Victor’s brand of excitement.

The sound of running water and the scent of sweet jasmine drifted into the bedroom where the girl had removed her clothing and left it in a pile next to the bed. She wandered into the bathroom and Victor turned, his ears burning just slightly as his eyes fell on her. “I can watch the bath. You go get ready now,” she said, wrapping her arms around Victor for a moment before stepping into the water. It was the perfect temperature and the oils he had chosen smelled heavenly. Her eyes closed and she let out a pleased sigh, immediately beginning to lose herself in her thoughts.

So when Victor slid into the water in front of her, the girl was startled for a moment. Her eyes popped open and got a full view of his bare chest. “Oh, hello there,” she murmured as her brain caught up. The steam between them rose from the water in lazy tendrils as the two stared into each other’s eyes. It subconsciously became a war of wills as to who would move first; yet they gave in at the same moment and collapsed into each other’s arms. Victor’s hot lips latched onto hers and he roughly pulled the breath from her lungs.

She bit at his lip when her chest threatened to burst, causing him to pull back just long enough for her to pull in a breath and him to let out a chuckle. Then they were back at it, breathing each other’s heat and holding each other close.

The water had begun to grow cold by the time the pair hauled themselves, panting, from the water and wrapped up in fluffy towels. Victor pulled the plug and quickly dried off, though he opted for the black robe hanging on the door rather than putting his clothing back on. The girl grabbed the matching white robe and tied it loosely. “Now what do you have planned, Mr. CEO?” she asked, looking Victor in the eye in an attempt to keep her eyes from drifting downward.

“I believe it’s late enough to begin dinner so it will be ready before a certain dummy is breaking down the refrigerator door,” Victor replied. “Why don’t you choose a film to watch while I cook? There should be a selection of them in the drawer beneath the television.”

Knowing that translated to “you aren’t invited to help me cook this time,” the girl nodded and took Victor’s hand to drag him back into the wide-open living area. He led her to the couch and pulled his hand away, leaving her to her own devices.

Soon the rich scents of garlic and onion filled the air from the kitchen, and the cheerful music of a comedy sang from the TV. The girl settled into an armchair from which she could see both Victor and the movie at the same time. Her world felt warm and comfortable, she couldn’t imagine it being any better than this.

#cozy isn't it #for now #mr love queen's choice #mr love game #mr love victor fanfic #mr love victor #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #evol x love #love and producer victor fanfic #love and producer fanfic #love and producer #love and producer li zeyan

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olliethescribe · 1 year

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Ok but hear me out warren centric set in ottawa fic ykyk bc

I’m so cool /j

I wrote way too much for this. Heads up, it's on the angsty side and contains a death mention. I am a sucker for giving Warren Stone shitty parents. (This is also canon to Only Brooches - taking place three months before Breakfast). Enjoy!

It was supposed to be a weekend trip, straightforward in its depressed purpose as Warren had been called up north to engage in family matters. He was less than thrilled, keeping his mind on Ron and the boys, hoping that leaving them with the mini-van would be enough while he was away. It should be enough, fine even. Just two days and then he’d be back, basking in the warmth of their home, holding Ron tight and never letting go. Would’ve brought him up too had the magician’s passport not been expired. No, Warren had to brave it alone.

The last time he’d heard from his parents was during Christmas, taking a chance on an unknown number with a Vancouver area code, a rough cough breaking the silence on the other end as his mother asked him if he’d gotten the socks she and his father sent. They had no idea that he’d moved, or had gotten engaged and married, or was far smarter than the nineteen year boy he used to be when they called him after running away all those years ago. Warren spoke in short and curt reponses, cutting off tangents before they could branch. He knew the tactic, make small talk then, as he was distracted, ask for money. It only took forty-five seconds for him to end that call.

So when they called again just a week prior to this drive, asking him to join them at ‘home’? He should’ve hung up with record speed. But no, he had to listen, finger hovering over the end-call button when they told him his cousin passed, that he had been named in the will as a recipient.

The newscaster hit a bump as he grumbled to himself, eye twitching as he turned down the nearest exit. Couldn’t get a call for the funeral, nah. Had to be about the will. He paused his thinking for a moment as his fingernails dug into the steering wheel of his BMW. “I’m an idiot! Newsflash: it’s still about money!” Warren looked up at the signs arching over the road. Thirty kilometers to Ottawa. Better than the alternative. He foresook his GPS, trashing the idea of seeing his ‘family’. Ron was right, this felt off, it felt like a trap. Warren didn’t feel like getting caught in another one.

“Hey, babe,” he said, ringing Ron who answered instantly, “yeah, it’s not happening. I’m coming back tomorrow. No, I didn’t get there yet, managed to stop myself. Is everything good on your end?” Warren made another turn, driving down a long stretch of road before arriving at a roundabout. Ten kilometers away now. “What do you mean by ‘sad purple sheep man’? Oh, they weren’t kidding about the two dads thing, huh? Don’t ‘four dads’ me, I swear to… yeah, that checks out.” Five kilometers now, almost there. “And yes, I’ll bring back a case of coffee crisps. You’re welcome.” Warren smiled, eyes on the road. One kilometer to go. “Wish you were here, think you’d like where I’m stayin’. Next time. Love you too, Ronny.”

Warren pulled up to the outer limits of the city and stared in awe for a bit, the capital of his home country glimmering in gorgeous shades of pink and orange in the dying light of the winter afternoon. He’d have an hour or so maximum before the sun gave up its light for the day, looking for something he could feasibly do. Warren passed by the Rideau Canal, taking a brief glance at the boats below before Google spat out the brilliant idea to visit ByWard Market.

The newscaster would’ve picked a museum had he been with Ron, the two getting lost in all types of exhibits for hours. Another go-to for them were typically live performances, frequenting theatres owned by small creators as the two quietly whispered to each other about not understanding what was happening but enjoying themselves all the same.

Warren glanced across the street as he parked his car, an art gallery catching his attention painted in red tones, people streaming in, couples with their arms linked and laughing with each other as the gallery owner passed around glasses of sparkling wine. He felt his chest begin to dully ache, trying hard to ignore the feeling as he got out of the car and onto the sidewalk. He’d be home soon enough, would be back with Ron soon enough. Had to keep reminding himself.

As it turns out, ByWard Market was less of one market and more so a conglomeration of shops and establishments within four city blocks. The area hummed with soft jazz, people out and about, enjoying the evening chill. Shops were nothing short of crowded, and food stalls were only slightly less so. The newscaster decided to wait in line for a coffee, fucking up his order at the last second by requesting a green tea instead. He drank it anyway as he strolled, the hot leaf water reminding him of his husband.

Warren found himself bobbing in and out of shops, taking a keen interest in the fashion establishments that lined one block, walking away as soon as he saw the price tags. He couldn’t afford a decent suit in Ottawa, that was for certain. There were queer bars and loud resturants, speciality grocers and tattoo parlours. All lively, all inviting. The warmth that emanated from yet another gallery drew him in long enough as he warmed up, taking in the sights of a private collection of Georgia O’Keefe paintings as curated by the gallery’s owner. To view art of a desert so vast and lonely, well, it certain made him feel less so.

The newscaster eventually left, checking into a hotel a block over, running back to his car once he realized he’d left his luggage behind. His phone was ringing non-stop, no calls yet from Ron but plenty from the ones that claimed to have raised him. He turned the ringer off, dragging his suitcase into the elevator and ascending to the fifth floor.

His heart beat dully in his hollow chest, frowning as he stared out his window that overlooked the city. The guy at the front desk said it looked prettier in the daylight. Warren would have to take his word for it.

#no crime only brooches au #fanfic #fanfiction #rottmnt #rottmnt fanfic #warren stone #hypnopotamus #hypnowarren #hippoworm #tw death mention #a sad man alone in canada

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mr-voorhees-husband · 2 years

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I loved your hc and fic so much, Could I request a short fic of Tssm!Quentin and the reader going on a lil date :D

YES YESYEYSYSEYS

yes. 100% 1000%

Partially for myself because I wanna be Quentin's gossip partner but I can re-write it to be more romantic if you so desire my friend (also this was written on mobile too, so it will be properly formatted later i promise)

Warnings: a lil body horror in Quentin's story?, Reader + Quentin go on a cute date and do.. idk date things (man I'm aroace idk how dates work)

Reader - Mostly gender neutral but Quentin uses masc compliments

"What happened to 'hanging low'?"

Quentin scoffed at your question, dismissing it with one of his signature smirks. For someone who had the smartest person in the city as his bestfriend, he didn't make the smartest decsions sometimes. His ego wouldn't let him and he was lucky you liked that about him. If you didn't, Quentin would be minus a partner. "Please, Mysterio never hides, especially not when it comes to bringing his handsome partner on a date, my love."

"Mhm," You hummed, taking a sip of the expensive champagne he'd bought, "and what will the wonderful Mysterio do if Spider-man happens to crash our date?"

"Ah-" Quentin got a look on his face, an odd flurry of panic and concern. He'd obviously not thought of it, and it had you biting back a smile from the otherside of the table. It'd been his idea, or rather, his insisting that ended you two in this high end restaurant. It really was nice, expensive as all hell, but nice nonetheless. You were lucky you talked him out of going to another one down the street, a semi-formal dress code was much more appealing than a black-tie one. "Well- he'd beat him, and take his date to a much better restaurant."

"You mean like how you beat him last night?" You were teasing, of course. Quentin could tell from a mile away when you had that glint in your eyes that you didn't mean harm. He flushed with a pout, before clearing his throat and sitting up straighter.

"That was Shocker's fault, he shot at me." You nodded at his words, deciding against pointing out how it was in fact Quentin who got in the way of the blast. "Oh- did I tell you about what happened before the fight?"

That was another thing you adored about you villainous actor, he gossiped. So much it wasn't funny, but oh, it was more than just a little entertaining. Being his partner meant you were told everything he knew... which meant you basically knew everything about the Sinister Eleven.

It'd probably be best if you didn't meet them at this point, anyway. You don't think you could look Sandman in the eyes after learning how his clothes work...

"So, Flint, O'hirn, Adrian, and Mason are all in the like.. living room area?" You raised an eyebrow and he waved his hand, something, you learned, he did often. "Not important, anyway. You know how Rhino can take off the chest and pelvis piece, right?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah, you told me." You had to think about it for a moment, but he most definitely had told you at some point.

"He'd taken off his chest piece because he needed to cool down, so he's laying on his and Ox's designated area, cooling down." Quentin was in it now, hands moving as he talked. You'd have to start making a list of all the things you liked about him, you realized. How animated he was would definitely be one of the top 5. "Sandman goes over, and says something along the lines of 'do you think i can fit in the rest of the armor?' So of course Alex wants to see if he can."

"Oh god."

"It gets worse." Quentin's smile was on the edge of being sadistic, eyes lit up as if this was the funniest thing in the world. "Sandman slips into the armor, and its all fine and dandy. Until he realizing, he, for some reason, is moving."

"No. Please don't tell me he-?"

"It took them two hours to sort him out of Rhino's tissue." You cringed, the little details given being enough to give you the full picture. Quentin giggled like an insane person, and you couldn't help but chuckle in response. "I mean- why would they even thing that was a good idea?"

"Aren't these the same two guys that Spidey used to beat on a daily basis back before Mysterio?" His nod had you shaking your head in disbelief. "Jesus you'd expect them to know better."

"Exactly!" Quentin's sudden raise in volume had people looking your direction, but you just glared in response. So your boyfriend was loud, so he could be a bit chaotic. So what? That didn't mean they could say anything, especially not while you were here.

A blissful sigh had you looking back at him, your eyes finding his in a stare that had you blushing. Another thing you liked about him, you noted, was how he looked at you. Like you were some kind of deity. It was equal parts embarrassing and adorable. "What?"

"I like it when you get angry for me." Quentin reached over, smirking like the little stuck-up idiot (affectionate) he was, and picking you hand up in his own. "It makes me happy I found someone to brag about."

"Wow," you flushed, chuckling, "that's a hell of a change of pace."

Quentin smiled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he downright purred his next words. "Its why you love me."

With a roll of your eyes, despite how your heart was fluttering and your face rivaled the color of a peach, you scoffed.

"That and a couple 100 other reasons," You pulled his own hand to you, flipping the script as you kissed the ring finger knuckle, "my love."

#quentin beck #tssm #tssm mysterio #the spectacular spider man #tssm quentin beck #mysterio #i litterally couldn't wait to write this #i'll edit it in the morning i promise #but oh my god #Quentin <33

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lagycart · 1 year

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tokyo tohoku trip - day 12.

starting the day at tsukiji outer market 築地場外市場, even though the fish market has moved to toyosu, this area remains very popular for fresh seafood and lots of other street food. we came here on a wednesday so a lot of stores are closed, it also means there should be less people, some stores are still super crowded though.

we walked around the market and tried a few street food, fresh sashimi from 築地斉藤水産, the seafood variety here is plenty, you can ask them what is good for the day as well, everything looks super yummy. all the fish, prawn and sea urchin we ate was really good, very tasty and enjoyable. followed by grilled scallops from 築地うなぎ食堂, which also has grilled eel and other shellfish, another popular option among the crowd. last but not least, tamagoyaki from 築地山長 is definitely a must-eat, especially for egg lovers like myself, it’s just so fluffy and i like to eat this while it’s freshly cooked.

for lunch, my friend and i went to shutoku 2nd store at tsukiji 秀徳2号店 for the omakase meal, we were served tamagoyaki, 10 pieces of sushi made from various local freshly caught fish, a handroll and miso soup. the chef prepared all the fishes and shell food first before starting to make the sushi. it’s a very enjoyable process to watch as the chef do wonders right in front of you. each fish is very fresh, has slight different texture and taste, and is complimented by various condiments which enhance the flavor. the meal was very satisfying and enjoyable, this was our second visit already.

we grab coffee after the meal at a rustic coffee store - yonemoto coffee 米本珈琲本店, this store has so many different kind of coffee beans, and the coffee jelly i got is so yummy too. definitely a good place to visit for a great cuppa. after the coffee break, i head to shibuya on my own to continue my exploration, as shibuya has changed a lot recently.

i first did some stationery and souvenir shopping at loft, this is my favorite store to go to as it just has so many things to see and buy, and always something new to discover. they also offer duty free shopping which is very convenient too. after that, i went to shibuya scramble square, a new shopping mall that is super popular right now, to visit shibuya sky, the latest and hottest rooftop observation deck at the moment. i made reservation beforehand, so its very easy to get in with the QR code provided. they have lockers for visitors to store your things which is not allowed on the deck.

the deck is very spacious and windy, and there’s lots of tourists around, there’s also photography service which you can queue up for, otherwise you are free to roam around and take as many photos as you like, and stay as long as you wish to. as the sun goes down, the weather turns cold really quick though, but the sunset was very beautiful to watch. there’s some seating area and hammock and a helipad too. with a rooftop bar at one side which opens at night. it is definitely enjoyable to visit if you like the city view a lot and just wanna feel cool breeze.

when the sky starts to turn dark, i decided to leave and went down the building, and by chance, i found tokyu hands ハンズ on the 10th floor, and did more shopping, this is also one of my favorite place to shop for japanese stationery and home and living items. and this new store at shibuya scramble square is well organized and easy to look around too.

my last stop before heading back home is visiting the mega donki Megaドン・キホーテ渋谷本店 to purchase some souvenirs for friends and family, as this stores is so big, they have anything and everything that you wanna buy at a rather competitive price. i bought quite a few japanese snacks here, the options are endless and it’s also very reasonably priced. only downside is the paying process is long and painful as there’s only limited staff working at the counters for duty free checkout.

for dinner, my friend has prepared a feast at home for the both of us, she bought so many fresh ingredients and cooked a delicious and heartwarming meal. there’s grilled fish, pumpkin, miso soup, fresh vegetables and more. everything is really yummy, and we had a great meal and it’s so just relaxing to be able to have a homecooked meal. our meal ends with the egg pudding i got from shimokitazawa a day before, which is so creamy and the egg taste is really fragrant and rich and not really sweet at all.

to be continued...

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toa-electricsheep · 2 years

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0750 Hours : Sylvain, Brigid, Severa, Hinoka

“This is no place for civilians,” the officer responds. “As I’m sure you’re aware this is a restricted area, and nepotism will not get you far here. How you managed to slither in here is another matter.... right now, I am taking you all into custody.”

“I refuse.”

“You seem to think you have a choice in the matter.” Sasha deflates. None of this should be a surprise, and yet Sasha’s heart races nervously. This is a betrayal of everything she grew up with, what she thought she could believe in. Or was it? The phaser weighs heavily in its holster. They are all at the precipice of a significant moment in this history. Sasha doesn’t know what she needs to wait for, only that she needs to buy a bit more time. Someone is coming for her. To reunite...

In a way, the officer is right. Sasha doesn’t have any choice. Though it’s more like, this is the right path forward, and she absolutely must follow it.

Shadows descend from the sky, pulling the soldier’s attention away from them. It’s the opportunity she needs to grab Severa’s arm and tell her to run.

0750 Hours: Soren, Lorenz, Marth, Byleth

That ambulance, behind his mission, is of the highest priority. Finding medical attention for Byleth is one reason, but there is something else that drives L-431475 to seek out this vehicle, this particular doctor. Something embedded deep into his code that he can’t quite grasp, only that he knows he must do it.

The emergency exit is free and clear, and L-431475 quickly takes the lead. These ‘Archivists’ don’t seem all that knowledgeable about the mechs they pilot, and so he takes great pains to demonstrate the process. The mech’s legs bend. His motor rumbles, flames combust within him. The AI launches upwards, past decommissioned checkpoints and sensors, into the familiar bright-blue sky of Outside. The KM300′s wings deploy, and they glide against the wind.

His next mission is to reunite with ‘her.’ Who is ‘her’?

“Enemy signals detected near our destination.” A meager force, two at best, but their body language appears threatening towards the two individuals outside, and perhaps the six within the ambulance as well. A quick scan.... odd. Four of these individuals do not appear in public records. But one of them is the doctor L-431475 located earlier, and that is all the reason he needs to intervene. “Eliminating threat.”

Administrator Marth tried to preach to him about the importance of human lives. But that still remains illogical. Allies and administrators must be protected at all costs. Anything that stands in the way of his mission is just an obstacle to overcome. L-431475 points his arm towards the targets and fires liberally, until the only heat he detects is the smoking engine from the Hummer and what little remains from the bodies.

He lands on the ground, scanning once more. The neutral parties seem to be alive. Turning on the coms, he addresses the civilians, “I require medical assistance.”

0750 Hours : Farina, Forsyth, Shez, Pelleas

“Good, you’re all here.” Raoul greets you at Section 7 as promised, relief clear in his voice. “I’m contacting you through the private squadron coms right now, so no one else present here will hear us. Of course, we’ll be found out once the higher-ups comb through our communications, but with luck, we’ll be too far from them to deal with the consequences...”

His voice turns grave. “Listen to me carefully. You’re... not from here, are you? From this city, I mean.” Raoul chuckles nervously, “I sort of sympathize. Not understanding these rules, these orders... Which is why I want you all to go. Now. Take the KM950s with you—they’ll be more than enough to break through the building. The military has their sights set on the collection right now, they won’t be able to handle escaped mechs at the same time.

“All I ask for in return... is that you go to that horde of AI roaming about in the city. And make sure my Jeanne is ok...”

What to know:

Practice team and Archives team are reunited! The circumstances are fucking terrible though!

Sasha’s first thought is to book it out of there. Holy shit??? What the fuck??? But also torn, because she can’t shake the feeling that she knows this guy...

Laelaps just wants a bandaid for Byleth, is that so much to ask 😔

Raoul wants his squadron to leave and he will absolutely NOT take no for an answer. If asked who Jeanne is, he says that ‘she’ is an AI from his old mech and not much else...

Yes, you can hear gunshots outside. No, you don’t know who fired them. Perhaps if you left to investigate...

Things to do:

Things are getting dicey over here... perhaps leaving Is the move.

Practice team and Archives team are free to thread with each other and travel together.

Ask Mod Bren for additional information.

#TOAUnscripted2022 #UnscriptedElectricSheep2022

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theletterunread · 2 years

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Books in 2021

So, after the madness of 2020, the world went back to normal. Some of the time. For non-consecutive intervals. Interrupted by flashes of familiar old madness as well as brand new madness. (Do you remember the first time you read the term “NFT” and realized, with dread, that was just something you were going to have to deal with now?) And obviously, “normal” in this case only means “what our society has chosen to accept as normal.”

But at least the libraries were up and running. And even though my selections from them yielded a pretty typical ratio of winners to losers, the experience of returning to something typical casts a warm glow over all of these books. This might have been the best year of reading since I moved to LA.

The Body: A Guide for Occupants, Bill Bryson (Jan. 7-17)

This may turn out to be Bryson’s last book. It’s a good one to go out on. The history of physiology, the explanations of the body’s functions, and the stories of the scientists behind our developing understanding of our own species are all neatly told. I found it intelligent and was always compelled to keep reading, but I did recommend it to a doctor who found it unengrossing, so it may be a book for dummies.

The Kids in the Hall: One Dumb Guy, Paul Myers (Jan. 18-24)

A history of the comedy troupe from their formation up until the present. It’s weighted too heavily to their five years of stage shows at the expense of their five years on television. But there are lots of good behind-the-scenes anecdotes, and I was touched by love they obviously have for each other. Bruce McCullough, who, as a kid, I always thought of as “the grouchy one,” turns out to be the sweetest.

Is This Anything?, Jerry Seinfeld (Jan. 29 - Feb. 7)

I, naturally, had already heard and committed to memory most of the jokes in here, but the book is so exhaustive that there was lots that was new to me. And his method of formatting jokes like poems occasions a fresh look at even the familiar stuff. I was also happy to see him use the word “existential.” I’m sure that Seinfeld would taunt anyone who applied a ponderous word like that to his silly career, but I really think that the existentialism that’s just under the surface of his comedy is crucial to its intelligence, and probably accounts for why it’s resonated so much with the public.

Lodger, David and Maria Lapham (Feb. 7-8)

A crime and revenge story of a woman tracking down the drifter who wrecked her family years before. It’s well drawn and the plotting is okay, but it needed more depth and originality to the characters. The personalities of The Avenger and The Killer never get beyond level one.

A Pale View of Hills, Kazuo Ishiguro (Feb. 7-11)

His first book. A Japanese woman living in England tries to sort out the difficulties that life has presented her with, but is hampered by a difficulty in being emotionally honest, even with herself. It presses a lot of the same buttons as The Remains of the Day and is never quite as good as that one, but taken on its own, it’s very moving and haunting. I have been likened to an Ishiguro protagonist before, which is a real red alert, but maybe if I keep reading his books, I’ll find a way out.

Area Code 212, Tama Janowitz (Feb. 12-22)

These essays show the version of Janowitz’s life that I wished for her when I read Scream the preceding year: frivolous adventures in New York City, where everything goes wrong, but everything works out. There’s a lot of social satire and self-deprecation in the book, which you’d expect, but Janowitz is also capable of surprises, like in her recollection of a trip to MoMA that turns bloody. I believe this is also the collection where she sheepishly admits to once declining payment from Andy Warhol in the form of an original painting.

The Eternal Smile, Gene Luen Yang and Derek Kirk Kim (Feb. 13-15)

Three separate stories by two different authors. What connects them is the nearly identical twist that ends each story. I won’t spoil it, but I’ll say that I was not very moved by it in the first story (a medieval fantasy), but I was in the second (a greedy anthropomorphic frog starts his own religion) and the third (an office drone lets a scam email incite dreams of a better life). I’m not convinced the stories gain much by being bound together, but there’s enough good material here to easily recommend this collection.

This One Summer, Mariko Tamaki and Jillian Tamaki (Feb. 20-22)

Two girls coming of age during a summer at a beach house. (It’s always at the beach in these stories, isn’t it?) You’ve seen all the elements before – two friends diverging, the terror and allure of older teenagers, the dawning awareness of one’s parents as flawed people – but it’s still perceptive and touching. The book is often challenged or banned from libraries for the usual moronic reasons, so do the authors (cousins, by the way) a favor and check it out.

Waiting, Ha Jin (Feb. 23 - Mar. 2)

In the 1960s, a doctor in the Chinese army seeks legal permission to divorce his wife, so he can remarry a nurse at his hospital. I’m not sure how to convey how good this novel is. It’s effortless and simply told, but very deep and very beautiful. Ha Jin uses this extremely specific story to draw out broader questions about how to be happy, or even how to just satisfy the challenge of being a human being at all. I was very moved by the last pages of the book, when the doctor’s sorry appraisal of himself is given a little nudge by his daughter that casts everything in a brighter light. The doctor’s reaction was mine: “He was upset and touched at the same time.”

Uzumaki, Junji Ito (Feb. 23 - Mar. 3)

In every chapter of this book, people suffer some spiral-related horror: hypnotized by the evil shape into unspeakable acts; drained of energy by curls in their hair that have grown and taken on a life of their own; transformed into giant snails with spiral-shells. In the third act, there’s an explanation given for what has caused this curse, but I was less interested in that than in seeing how many new horrors Ito could come up, keeping to his limited theme. He racks up quite a few, and they really are freaky. One terror in particular kept me awake one night.

Last Look, Charles Burns (Mar. 4-9)

A trilogy of mind-bending comic books, all ostensibly creating one story. There are dreams and flashbacks and recurring symbols and nested narratives. I can’t say I understood any of it, but I enjoyed reading it.

Slumberland, Paul Beatty (Mar. 6-21)

The weakest of his four novels, but still very, very good. Who else is funny right from page one? I just went back and checked, and his first paragraph has, at a conservative estimate, three you’ll-never-see-them-coming lines. Though I was slightly underwhelmed by the plot (about an American DJ in Berlin – maybe the European location threw him off his game? Maybe descriptions of music are a little too elusive to be the backbone of a novel?), I was totally satisfied by the endless original sentences. Read it, read his other three, and count down the days until Beatty publishes a fifth.

The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage, Sydney Padua (Apr. 2-6)

An alternate history in which the title mathematicians’ theoretical work on computers was actually realized in their lifetime. In these stories, they’ve successfully constructed a primitive, but working computer (The Analytic Engine, to be precise) and show it off to various historical Victorian characters. It’s cute and educational, and it does make you think about how astonishing it is that human beings successfully devised anything as complicated as the computers we use today, but my enthusiasm is sort of muted. I may just have a tin ear for steampunk and efforts to make history cool.

The Moviegoer, Walker Percy (Apr. 8-15)

This is the book I read while getting my COVID vaccination. Percy deserves our thanks for getting A Confederacy of Dunces published, but as far as his own writing goes…the book’s not bad, but it’s dated: a young man drifts through life, unable to find meaning in the conventions of society, for they are inadequate to the spiritual needs of humanity. That’s all well and good, but at this point, we’ve seen it all before, and we’ve seen deeper iterations of the premise.

Through the Woods, Emily Carroll (Apr. 9-10)

Five spooky, fairy tale-inspired stories. They’re not much more scary or sophisticated than the tales in those Short and Shivery anthologies of horror stories you’d read in middle school, but the art is very good. Gift it to your precocious child, and flip through it yourself.

Monsignor Quixote, Graham Greene (Apr. 16-23)

A small-time Catholic priest and the communist mayor of his town go on a Quixote-like road trip through Spain. Innocent fun, and some ready-for-TV scenes where the two characters compare and contrast their ideologies. Not anywhere close to the best of Greene, though. Salman Rushdie lamented that this book was marked by “Don Camillo-like flatness.” Yeah, okay, well: whatever that means.

Play It as It Lays, Joan Didion (Apr. 24-26)

The only fiction of hers I’ve ever read. Not very much happiness in this story of a woman who finds people who disappoint and abuse her wherever she goes. But the misery isn’t lurid or pornographically presented – in fact, it’s hard to even call it misery, because the sharpness of the heroine and the sharpness of the style keep the story from every seeming desperate. I was dismissive of unornate writing when I wrote about Get Shorty, but the way Didion uses it works.

Three by Box, Edgar Box (Apr. 28 - May 8)

Three formal mysteries written pseudonymously by Gore Vidal while he was blacklisted: Death in the Fifth Position, Death before Bedtime, and Death Likes it Hot. Totally traditional in format, but with just enough specificity in the set-ups and characters to let Vidal slip in some individuality. My favorite was Fifth Position, about a murder in a ballet company. (Has there ever been a bad backstage story?) I was reading these while traveling on the Metro Gold Line, and was so engrossed that I ignored the “Hellos” of another, increasingly angry passenger. He was looking for friendship, I guess, and when I didn’t respond, he called me an asshole and loudly hoped that I would “die slowly.”

Don’t Look Now, Daphne du Maurier (May 9-15)

Nine spooky stories, all of them good. I particularly liked “Don’t Look Now,” where a father lives a waking nightmare in Venice, and “Kiss Me Again, Stranger,” a story of a weird meet cute that reads very modern. Even when she deploys a now-familiar trick (“My god, she was dead all along!”), du Maurier makes it elegant and satisfying. Maybe it’s the pristine edge of her style. You feel that if you don’t resonate with the story, it speaks more to your own shabbiness.

Show and Tell, John Lahr (May 28 - June 6)

Profiles of a dozen people in show business. The best one is about Roseanne. Seriously. She comes off funny and tenacious – you want to cheer when reading about how she pushed back early and hard against producers and executives trying to soften her show – but there are strong indications of the thoughtlessness and anger that would eventually bubble over into…well, whatever. It’s also interesting the way Lahr gushes over Frank Sinatra. I’ve got nothing against the guy, but it’s fascinating to see how seismic an impact his music had on people of a certain generation. They go into a kind of religious trance talking about him.

The Mask, John Arcudi and Doug Mahnke (May 29-31)

Jamie Kennedy released a set of admirably candid YouTube videos talking about the experience of making his widely despised, career-killing film Son of the Mask. Those sent me down a rabbit hole that led to digging up these original comics. They’re okay. The drawings are awfully frantic, and the antics that the mask inspires in its wearers are gruesome and cruel, much more so than in the Jim Carrey movie. It veers towards tasteless territory, but I think it stops short. With just a little generosity (maybe a lot of generosity), you can read this as a legitimate “cursed object” story, and take away from it the old-fashioned moral not to let base motives consume your soul. Look, I’m not saying it’s the best version of that story, but I’ll say it works.

The Adventures of Tintin, Hergé (June 9 - Nov. 24)

After winning an Amazon card in a drawing, I splurged on this beautiful box set and read all the adventures over the next five months. (All but one. This collection doesn’t include the one early book that all Tintin fans, including Hergé himself, wish had never been written…) It was my first time reading them since I was a child, and I had to do some reappraisals: Tintin in America is much lamer than I ever realized, while The Red Sea Sharks, which I had always undervalued, is stupendous, building to one of the best action sequences in any comic ever. It was great to see the development of an artist across a career. (And also easy to see, since it’s totally contained within one series). First is his early shedding of casual racist attitudes in favor of a global view of humanity – maybe a little sentimental and simple-minded in execution, but sincere and emphatic. Then there’s the development of craft, both in the increasingly beautiful illustrations, and in the increasingly sophisticated writing. And lastly there’s the self-reflection, as Hergé, after sending Tintin to the moon, realizes the only place left to explore is the interior life. The last quarter of the series is dedicated to dismantling and reinventing its own formula, so in the phase when most artists rest on their laurels, Hergé was pushing himself into uncharted territory. Rereading these was a pleasure. I should treat myself more often.

Proceed With Caution, Patricia Ratto (June 10-15)

There were a couple stories in here that worked – “Black Dog,” about a nosy neighbor, and “Chinese Boy” about a bullied kid – but the collection was mostly too obscure for me. This book was originally written in Spanish, and I wonder if stories like this (surreal, elusive) don’t translate well. Maybe that process adds one layer too many to penetrate.

Mr. Palomar, Italo Calvino (June 25-28)

There’s an ingenious mathematical structure to this book that I only subconsciously grasped and won’t even try to explain, but trust me: it works. And leaving that aside, the observations and ideas presented in the book are as smart as ever, whatever format Calvino puts them in. He writes about the world of objects and the world of ideas with equal clarity and originality, and he finds a tidy, comfortable box for everything.

Timbuktu, Paul Auster (June 29 - July 4)

“It’s told from the perspective of the dog,” is a joke in a comedy bit I’ve performed a few times. It’s also the hook of this novel. A dog accompanies his dying master on a trip to Baltimore, and then must find himself a new life. It’s not really about being a dog, it’s about existentialism and death and what happens inside one’s mind…but since I’ve seen all of those things grappled with in Auster’s other books, this one is, for me, the one about being a dog. It’s still good though. There’s a lot to be learned by considering things from an animal’s perspective. As Leopold Bloom observes in one of the few parts of Ulysses I appreciated, “They understand what we say better than we understand them.”

Kafkaesque, Peter Kuper (July 4-5)

When I complained about that other Kafka adaptation I read in 2019 being too obvious, this was what I was stacking it against. Kuper’s drawings are more expressionistic and inventive, and his interpretation of the text is less flat. There’s still the question of whether anything has been gained – or even could be gained – by affixing drawings to Kafka’s words (it’s the Fantasia question), but this is a good effort.

Stiff Upper Lip, Jeeves, P.G. Wodehouse (July 13-16)

Somehow, I found a Jeeves novel I’d never read before. I felt a little hurt by the jokes about vegetarians, but enjoyed it all the same. Lots of laughs when Bertie has to hide behind a sofa and listen as Jeeves tactically slanders him as a kleptomaniac to his unwanted fiancé. When she sees the statuette Bertie has allegedly stolen, she exclaims, “But that belongs to my father!” and Jeeves sorrowfully responds, “If I may say so, nothing belongs to anyone if Mr. Wooster takes a fancy to it.” Well, it makes me laugh, anyway.

The Golden House, Salman Rushdie (July 17-23)

A rich man and his three grown sons come to America, and through the eyes of their neighbor, we witness the changing of the family across a decade. It’s kind of like some ancient story retold in an extremely contemporary setting. There are good scenes and characters here, and the golden house itself, tucked into a secret courtyard in Greenwich Village, is a dream dwelling. But the ripped-from-the-headlines details are a little tedious. Rushdie tries to manage Trump’s presence artfully, but like pretty much everyone, he struggles to come up with anything original to say about the man, and it’s just the same bleating we’ve all heard and expressed ourselves since 2015. Trump imposed himself on our lives, and it’s natural to want to express our feelings about that, but I think everyone’s going to be pretty frustrated in a few years when we look back at this era and see how monotonously we dealt with him in art, how we allowed him entry even to the places where we could have kept him out.

Aurora Borealice, Joan Steacy (July 22-26)

A sort of memoir in which a Canadian woman embarks on a long education, both formally and privately. I liked the personal details and was excited when the main character made it across Canada to Victoria (it’s fun when you a place you’ve been appears in a book), but things kept grinding to halts for Steacy to praise seminal figures in her education, like Marshall McLuhan. I’m not arguing that he doesn’t deserve the praise, but it’s not obvious to me that it adds anything to the book.

Gothic Tales, Arthur Conan Doyle (July 26 - Aug. 8)

500 pages of gold. Lots of proper, well-behaved Victorian characters coming upon ghastly terrors: unexplained disappearances, mummies, hasty surgery, booby traps, man-eating cats. It’s formulaic, but what’s not to like? I suppose some of these stories here must have interested me less than others, but I don’t remember ever being bored. It reads as though Doyle believed all of these ghoulish things to be true, but wished that he didn’t. The idea that the author was being haunted by his own silly stories makes the whole collection funnier, but also more worthy of serious consideration.

Cartwheel, Jennifer duBois (Aug. 11-16)

Some reviewers knocked this novel for being too close to its inspiration, the Amanda Knox case, but I hadn’t followed that story, so it was all fictional to me. The story of the accused murderer is told in chapters from the perspective of her family, her friends, and the prosecutor working on her case. Everyone’s pretty well observed (particularly the sad, smarmy rich boy next door, who inspires first annoyance, then weary pity) and the plot moves along efficiently. But it’s a greenhouse book: there’s no fresh air getting in. It’s very formal, without much of a unique voice. The sort of thing you can admire, but wouldn’t love.

The Golden Age Is in Us, Alexander Cockburn (Aug. 18-23)

Diary entries, essays, and articles from the late grouch. He includes lots of angry letters from readers who didn’t like what he printed in the newspaper, which is great. Writing by non-writers is worth preserving, and I don’t mean that in a derisive way: there are original sentences that can only be written by a totally unconscious and undeliberate mind. What Cockburn has to say is good too. Mostly he argues (quite well) for conventional socialist ideas, but he’s also capable of surprising you with some heterodox ideas. He lays out an economic proposal for a flat tax system to aid the poor – arguing that progressive outcomes are more important than progressive methods – that I found uncomfortably convincing.

The Human Comedy, William Saroyan (Aug. 27-30)

Saroyan was an author recommended to me in 2009, as reference material for my first decent script, but it took me until last year to pick him up. A nice young man works as a messenger boy in his small California town. We see him at work, at school, and at home, where’s he’s obliged to be the man of the house. It’s all sweet and sentimental, but never cornball, because the book is smart enough to present all this goodness as a choice that a person can make, and not always an easy one. It’s a nice miniature novel. Even the edition I had was pocket-sized.

Shake Girl, The Stanford Graphic Novel Project (Adam Johnson and Tom Kealey, Editors) (Aug. 27-30)

A collaborative project. A handful of Stanford students wrote and drew this story of a Cambodian smoothie seller trying to escape poverty and being mistreated by corrupt and disgusting elites. Page by page, there are startling moments and thoughtful images, but nothing too impactful. Probably the collaborative nature of the project had the (unintended but unavoidable) effect of flattening any depth that might have come from a more individualized approach.

Commute, Erin Williams (Aug. 31 - Sep. 1)

My gut reaction is to give it a thumbs down. To be dismissive of the drawing style. To say that the self-aggrandizing scenes needed to be cut with deeper introspection. To point out that the author’s efforts to convey the wrongness of being reduced to an object are undercut by a number of offhandedly reductive insults towards others. But I think that sort of criticism winds up being a way to avoid addressing the real experience of reading the book. It’s a book about harassment and addiction and trauma, and Williams conveys her feelings about those things honestly, and does a fair job of forcing the reader to grapple with those feelings. To stand back and suggest that this could have been expressed more “effectively” seems to miss the point, because what is the “effect” being sought? I can feel the ice cracking beneath my feet: this type of appraisal could render any piece of art immune to all criticism. And yet, applying any other type of review here would seem inadequate.

Last of Her Name, Mimi Lok (Sep. 1-5)

This one’s easier. It’s a fine collection of short stories. The first seven average out to be pretty good, and the last one, “The Woman in the Closet” is better than the rest put together. It’s about an old woman who’s removed from her home and finds new lodgings…well, in a closet, but there are specific details beyond that to make it a very rich story. It’s natural and breezily written, and I can’t think of anything else like it.

The End of the End of the Earth, Jonathan Franzen (Sep. 6-10)

Franzen is always better than the internet would have you believe (although some of that hostility seems to be abating, doesn’t it?), but never quite as good as you’d hope. Every essay in here is good: well written, readable, sincere, sufficiently intelligent…but there’s never anything surprising, and by the end, you’re starving for even a single, fleeting moment of humor. Look, I’ll read any future essay collection he writes (eventually…within ten years of its publication), and I do like his advocacy for birds, but wouldn’t it be more fun if he wrote about some left-field, totally bananas subject? Like an anime convention? Just put that brain to use on something new and see what comes out. He wrote The Discomfort Zone, so let’s see him face it.

Gabriel’s Gift, Hanif Kureishi (Sep. 21-24)

Surprisingly warmhearted. Also pretty conventional. Gabriel, a teenager who aspires to an artistic life, has a hardworking mother and an immature washed-up father. He tries to keep them both happy. There’s also a famous rock star character (the dad used to play in his band) who’s reminiscent of David Bowie, though it doesn’t really matter. It’s decent, and I did feel fondness for Gabriel when he managed to swing a happy ending for everyone, but it’s nothing special.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Vol. 2, Alan Moore & Kevin O’Neill (Sep. 21-24)

Finally got around to continuing this series. This one draws heavily on The War of the Worlds, though my favorite part was a subplot involving a visit to the animal village populated by Dr. Moreau’s critters. There’s a lot of fun here, but there’s also a scene of a horrific, disproportional, and distasteful violence (I know, Alan, I know: “That’s the point”), and I have to reduce its score for that. It’s just so needless.

The Clasp, Sloane Crosley (Sep. 25-29)

Three college friends who’ve drifted apart reunite at an acquaintance’s wedding. One of them leaves with a family heirloom, sparking a ridiculous adventure that spans America, and eventually France. Intentionally ridiculous, that is. It’s a little sluggish, and one of the three leads was too conventional for me (confident and successful on the outside, rife with doubt and fear on the inside, hiding these feelings behind rote sarcasm…there’s a guy like that in every Millennial novel), but overall, the book is a success. What I liked most about it was what I most expected to like: it’s comfortable being funny. It’s not laugh-out-loud hilarious, but it doesn’t have to be. It’s steadily wry and willing to let its characters be silly, and how often do you get even that much humor in a novel?

Eleven Hours, Pamela Erens (Oct. 1-4)

The eleven hours is the time that one character is in labor, tended to by a coincidentally pregnant nurse. The book flits between present and past, filling in these women’s backstories. As you might have predicted, there’s a reason these two characters wound up in each other’s lives: their experiences complement each other and ulitimately illuminate something or other for the reader. I don’t mean that to sound dismissive. It is a good book – smart and evocative and good at dodging melodrama – but it ended too suddenly for me to fully understand what I had been reading.

Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe (Oct. 5-8)

I meant to pick up his other book, No Longer At Ease, but got the titles mixed up. It worked out for me. First in his village (in what would become known as Nigeria), then in exile, then returned to a home he no longer recognizes, the hero Okonkow can’t ever put a foot right. Sometimes, he commits despicable acts, but you feel more pity for him than anger. His choices are shaped by anger towards his dismal father, by the rigidity of his fellow villagers, and by the thoughtless destruction the European missionaries bring. It’s the story of a sad, failed life, but told so empathetically that what you’re left with isn’t gloominess, but a sense that we must not let ourselves or each other have lives like this.

Crash, J.G. Ballard (Oct. 9-13)

Not the feel-good movie about American racism, but the feel-bad novel about car crashes. The narrator is in an accident and is subsequently drawn into a creepy world of fetishists who are sexually excited by car crashes and their aftermaths. There are endless, lascivious descriptions of wreckage and broken bodies. It’s pornographic, except that it doesn’t resemble any kind of sex you’ve ever encountered before. Ballard gives you no quarter. He even names the narrator after himself, removing a layer of fictionality that might have given you a little comfort. It’s an unpleasant and challenging read, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it…yet I am glad I read it. It’s masterfully written (there couldn’t be any better way to render this material), it’s unlike anything else I’ve read, and I was transfixed the entire time. If you asked me point-blank, I would recommend it, although I should report that its overall reception was mixed. When Ballard submitted it for publication, one reader returned it to his or her boss with the note, “This author is beyond psychiatric help. Do Not Publish!”

Love Is an Ex-Country, Randa Jarrar (Oct. 14-17)

This memoir is aimless, tedious, and full of endless self-affirmations. Those are fine in and of themselves, and I am sure that writing these words was healthy and helpful for Jarrar personally, but there’s nothing in here for a reader.

Everybody into the Pool, Beth Lisick (Oct. 18-27)

NPR-ready essays about the funny things that can happen to you when you’re a human. So you’ll smile more than you’ll laugh, but you will be entertained. Lisick describes herself as being too weird for her suburban upbringing and too normal for the fringe worlds she discovers later, but I think it’s the opposite. I think she’s normal enough for the mainstream and strange enough for the rest. She seems to slot in comfortably enough in either venue, which means there’s not too much at stake in her anecdotes. But they are amusing and well-written, particularly the one where she volunteers at a Catholic fundraiser and steals from the nuns to pay for a punchline I won’t spoil.

On Ajayi Crowther Street, Elnathan John and Àlàbá Ònájìn (Oct. 24-29)

A Nigerian melodrama. Various secrets and betrayals and crimes and upheavals play out through a large, intertwined cast, at the center of which is an evil patriarch. It’s a bit shallow, but not from any lack of intelligence. More that there’s so much to get through that everything is spread a bit thin. It’s engrossing, even if I never took it too seriously.

The World According to Garp, John Irving (Oct. 27 - Nov. 6)

A good balance of realism and outrageous invention. T.S. Garp grows up, goes to school, gets married, has children, and has a career, but every moment, from his conception to his death, is marked by something ridiculous. Sometimes there’s a bizarre supporting character, sometimes a sequence of events is wild. Putting it that way might make it sound like it’s overly satirical, a book about human relationships that sneers at human relationships (I’ve seen it criticized on those grounds), but I didn’t find that to be so. Garp’s relationship with his mother and his experiences of fatherhood are very moving.

‘Salem’s Lot, Stephen King (Nov. 7-21)

The first third of the book introduces a couple dozen characters living in a small town. The rest of it has almost all of them turning to vampires, one by one. There are good action set-pieces, some nasty humor, the pulpy fun of seeing bad people get what’s coming to them, the dime-store tragedy of seeing the innocent suffer, and some surprises in the fates of the main characters. This is only King’s second published book, but it’s one of his best. It has everything you like about him, and none of what you don’t.

The Metamorphoses of Tintin, Jean-Marie Apostolidès (Nov. 25 - Dec. 4)

After I finished the 24th and final Tintin album, I picked up this academic appraisal. It was too academic. It’s a psychological study of the symbols at play in the comics, and of the archetypical roles (father, foundling, bastard) the characters fulfil. I liked one observation: Tintin’s metamorphosis from being specifically Belgian to being rootless and international was a transformation that allowed Hergé to discard any limitations to his hero and turn him into a mythic figure. But the rest of the ideas were rigid and not particularly illuminating.

Shovel Knight, David L. Craddock (Dec. 27-30)

A book about a video game. Unlike Earthbound, the only other book I’ve read in this series, this installment doesn’t bother with any artistic interpretation of its subject; it’s a straight-up history of how Shovel Knight was made. That’s a fair choice. Shovel Knight is a great game, but it’s so formal and deliberately designed that I’m not sure there’s much to analyze. It’s inspiration was only other video games, so that’s the only lens through which it can be viewed. The upshot is a book that’s interesting, but more like a press kit than a piece of criticism.

***

Here’s a story about Boss Fight Books, the publisher that released Shovel Knight. I submitted a book proposal to them. I wanted to write about the N64 platformer Banjo-Tooie, and how that sequel fit into and represented the angry, adolescent era of video games and video gamers. My proposal was turned down.

Many months later, I was talking to somebody about video games developed by Rare. When the conversation turned to Banjo-Tooie, I said, “I have something embarrassing to tell you about my serious interest in that game.” She winced and said, “Oh no…you didn’t read a book about it, did you?” I had to tell her that my life was even more undignified than that.

To have visited the libraries freely and to have been embarrassed by my own passions: yes, 2021 was truly a return to normalcy.

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