Double-post for once :)
Have decided to dedicate a post to the things I'm a fan of, that give (or have given) me much enjoyment in everyday life! Just because they deserve it.
I love books very much. I remember the days when I used to memorise quotes from the Wind on Fire because they were so perfect. I think Kestrel would probably be my role model, if I ever had one from a book. She's not perfect, she loses her temper at Mumpo often and she wonders why she can't love people enough in the way they want in the last book. But she is loyal and stubborn about it, like when she followed the tracks of her family to the Mastery, and deceived Zohon for it. Or when she followed Bowman to the Singer people.
Also the books tell a lot about love. Not just the romantic kind, like many books do. But the love of a half-tattooed old trickster for his chicken as a pet, or that of a father for his wife when she is going to die soon and he can't prevent it, but can only support her in her administering to the people.
Quote time!
From the Wind Singer:
Hanno Hath came into the front room, and made his farewells. He kissed baby Pinpin, still sleeping in Mrs Hath's arms. He kissed his wife, who for all her defiance couldn't keep the tears from her eyes. Then he kissed Bowman, whispering to him as he did so,
'Look after Kess for me."
He swung his suitcase into one hand and strode out of the door. The marshals fell into step, one on each side, and the two scarlet-gowned teachers waddled along behind. The crowd fell back to gaze in silence at the little procession as it passed. The Hath family stood together on their front step, watching him go. They held their heads high, and waved after him, as if he was going on a holiday. But the onlookers shook their heads and murmured, 'Poor man', at the shame of it all.
As the procession reached the corner of the street, Hanno Hath stopped for a brief moment, and looked back. He gave a last wave, a wide sweep of his arm above his head, and smiled. Bowman never forgot that wave, or that smile, because as he watched from the steps he caught his father's feelings in a sudden very clear moment. He felt the immensity of his father's love for them all, warm and strong and inexhaustible, and he felt too a silent cry of desolation, which if it had words would be saying, Must I leave you for ever?
At the same time Rufy Blesh's father, who was standing close by, saw that smile and that defiant wave, and Bowman heard him say to his wife, 'He can smile as much as he wants, they'll never let him see his family again.'
That was when Bowman decided, deep inside himself, that there was nothing he would not do to bring his father back, that he would destroy all of Aramanth if he had to, for what did he care for a lifetime of this neat and orderly world compared to one moment of his father's brave loving smile?
Slaves of the Mastery:
'Why do you look out of the window all the time?' Sisi asked her. It wasn't that she objected: she simply wanted to know. Everything Kestrel did fascinated her.
'Because my people came this way.'
Every day Kestrel saw the signs. They were following the same road as the march.
'Oh!' said Sisi, surprised. 'Do you still care about your people?'
'Yes.'
'Even though you've got me now?'
'Yes.'
'But you don't care about them more than me, do you? I'm terribly nice to you. Lunki says I spoil you.'
'Yes, I care about them more than you. Just as you care about your father and mother more than you care about me.'
Sisi thought about that. She did love her father and mother, she supposed, quite a lot really, only they weren't at all interesting, and if they were to be taken away, as Kestrel's father and mother had been taken away, she wasn't sure she'd miss them so very terribly.
'But your people are gone, darling,' she pointed out. 'And I'm not. So really and truly, I think I'm more important now.'
Kestrel turned her great dark eyes on her, and Sisi felt the thrill she always felt at her friend's strength and mystery. It was as if however long she looked she could never see to the bottom of her.
'I have a brother,' said Kestrel, 'a twin brother, who's as close to me as I am to myself. He knows what I'm feeling without me having to say it. If he died, I would die. But he's alive. Every day, I come closer to him. Soon we'll be together again, as we have been from the day we were born.'
Tears came into Sisi's eyes as she heard this.
'I wish I had a twin brother,' she said.
'No, you don't. It's not good to be so close to another person.'
'Why not?'
'It makes you not need other people.'
'What's wrong with that?'
'Oh, Sisi,' said Kestrel. 'However are you going to cope with being married?'
Sisi shrugged. It was a subject she preferred not to think about.
'They'll tell me what to do, and I'll do it. That's how it is when you're a princess.'
Kestrel looked out of the window once more, saying as casually as she could,
'Wouldn't you rather marry one of your own people?'
'One of my own people?' The question surprised Sisi. 'Who?'
'I don't know. There must be some young man who's caught your eye.'
'No. There isn't. Who would there be?'
'Well -' Kestrel didn't want Sisi to see through her motives, and cast round in her mind for some plausible candidates. It wasn't easy. 'Ozoh the augur?' she said at last?
'Ozoh? He's half-snake!'
'Barzan?'
'Old, dull, and married.'
'Zohon?'
'He's always smiling when there's nothing to smile about. And anyway, he only loves himself.'
Kestrel was impressed. She hadn't realised Sisi was so sensible.
'And there's another thing, darling,' Sisi went on. 'All my people are inferior to me, because I'm a princess, and my husband has to be superior to me, so he'll have to come from somewhere else.'
'He doesn't have to be superior to you.'
'Would you marry an inferior husband? Don't be silly, darling. It wouldn't work at all.'
'He could be superior in some ways, and you could be superior in others.'
Sisi thought about that.
'Yes, that would work. I think I'd quite like that. Only there still isn't anybody, is there? So I might as well marry this man my parents have chosen for me.'
'Well,' said Kestrel, feeling she'd done all she could, 'I'm just glad I'm not a princess.'
After a short silence, Sisi said in a quiet voice,
'It isn't at all what people think. Nobody ever tells you anything. You never go anywhere. You never meet anybody. You're supposed to be better than everyone else but really you're a sort of doll in a doll's house.'
Kestrel was touched.
'You could always stop being a princess.'
'What else am I good for? I've never been taught to do anything for myself. All I know is how to be beautiful.'
'Oh, Sisi.'
'Don't tell anyone I talk like this. They wouldn't understand. The doll princess is supposed to be radiant, and happy, and -'
She gave Kestrel the oddest smile, and turned her head away.
Firesong:
At last there was only one bride colour remaining, the blue knotted strip held by the youngest of the Manth girls, Ashar Warmish. One young man waited at the end of the double line, wearing a blue band on his arm. Because he was the last, the atmosphere became more relaxed. His companions were starting to talk among themselves, and compare their wounds, while the leaders, the ones whose colours were further down the line, were already making their choice of bride. But first the final blindfolded youth must make his way down the lines.
Kestrel saw the difference as soon as he started. He was no stronger than those who had gone before him; nor was he nimbler at evading the blows. He simply cared less. He walked with his scarfed head held high, accepting the hammer-strikes to his back, reeling under the impact, finding his balance once more, and moving on: all as if he felt nothing. Shortly the others watching realised something unusual was happening, and their eyes turned from the brides to the blindfolded boy stalking down the lines. Already he was past the halfway mark, and he had made no sound. He turned his unseeing head towards the blows, seeming to invite them to strike him. Kestrel found herself thinking, How can he mind so little? Does he want to die? He walked on as if into the waves of the sea, turning always towards the higher wave and the higher, breasting the breakers and finding there an increase of strength. One club caught him full in his masked face with a sound of crunching flesh, but still he strode on.
Now in full silence all the klin watched, as he passed the three-quarter line, smashed and lashed but never brought down. Now he was past the white cloth marker, which was the furthest any of the others had got, and still he did not fall. Now the blows fell harder, and he staggered and tottered, but the big men with their clubs and their whips could not bring him down. Barra, father of the klin, stood at the far end, watching with his hard eyes, and the young man came nearer and nearer.
Why? thought Kestrel, as spellbound as the rest. Why take so much punishment? No bride is worth so much pain. And as she thought it, she knew, as everyone watching knew, that this was nothing to do with the brides, or even the klin. This, she said to herself, is a young man who chooses pain. He refuses to fall to his knees because he does not want his suffering to end.
On he strode, and now the entire klin knew he was going to the very end. Barra slowly opened wide his arms. The blindfolded boy, beaten and broken and barely conscious, walked on across the end line and into the klin father's embrace.
There he fell, and for a few moments it seemed he had paid the price for his foolhardy glory. Then Barra looked up and said,
'Aya! Honour him!' He barked out the klin's cry. 'Aya! Aya! He is the first to walk the storm to the end!'
Men and women, young and old, joined him, calling together, stamping the deck and beating their hands in time to the cry.
'Aya! Aya! Aya!'
End of long quotes.
If you think this sounds good, please seek them out. William Nicholson is the author. :)
*
Recently, I've also been crazier than usual about Megan Whalen Turner's books. Because the next book is coming out in April (I think it's April now, hopefully it isn't delayed). The prologue and the whole FIRST TWO CHAPTERS are up on the Harper Collins website! :D Since the book's about Sophos, I guess it's more setting the stage for Eugenides as Annux. :) Meanwhile, my copies of The Thief and The Queen of Attolia are out roaming though, hope they return soon and in not too bad a condition. :)
Then there's Survivor. I watch it faithfully every week, on playback. :) Then after watching it I go and read interviews and Jeff Probst's blog and stuff. It's quite interesting to read all the debate about who's the best survivor player - some people think it's the person who's manage to lie and backstab best in the spirit of the game, others think it has to be the person who got to the end with the least blood on their hands. And it's interesting to read people criticise others' game moves, while the person comes up with their reasons for why they did that particular thing in interviews.
As for manga, I regularly read the new chapter of Vampire Knight scanlated, on the 24th of each month. It makes me happy even through exams.
Then for music, my current love is Kamelot. At different times in my life, different music resonates with me. I think it started with things like the Corrs and Mariah Carey, then boybands (A1 mostly), and then My Chemical Romance and the Killers and Delta Goodrem and sometimes Muse and then Nightwish and now mostly Kamelot although I like listening to SS501 or random Korean songs or Jonas Brothers. I have tended to follow bands more than popular individual songs.
Last but not least, amongst the things I can think of now, there's Animorphs when I was younger. The time my brother gave me the Ellimist Chronicles as a present was one of those moments I was very happy, so happy that I forgot about earthly worries for a while. You seldom get those moments!
I most frequently re-read the Hork Bajir Chronicles though. Seerow's Kindness was a revelation to me.
Also, Animorphs has very amusing moments. Recently I was reminded of this quote by Aximili:
"You do not know me," he said, "but I am a juvenile delinquent. I do not trust authority figures, I probably will not graduate from high school, and statistics say my present rowdiness and vandalism will likely lead to more serious crimes. I am a dangerous fellow, and I am causing mayhem in this store." He reached behind her and pulled three jars of baby food from the top shelf. Shoved them behind a box of macaroni. Shuffled the Cheez Whiz in front of the Marshmallow Fluff. Tossed a bag of lady's shavers onto a bag of hamburger buns. "There. I have now shamelessly destroyed the symmetry of this shelf, undoing hours of labor by underpaid store employees. If you could see me, you would be frightened."
I think that's all to this long long post. I'm quite sure some of you will not read it to the end.
Regards,
Alaris
I love books very much. I remember the days when I used to memorise quotes from the Wind on Fire because they were so perfect. I think Kestrel would probably be my role model, if I ever had one from a book. She's not perfect, she loses her temper at Mumpo often and she wonders why she can't love people enough in the way they want in the last book. But she is loyal and stubborn about it, like when she followed the tracks of her family to the Mastery, and deceived Zohon for it. Or when she followed Bowman to the Singer people.
Also the books tell a lot about love. Not just the romantic kind, like many books do. But the love of a half-tattooed old trickster for his chicken as a pet, or that of a father for his wife when she is going to die soon and he can't prevent it, but can only support her in her administering to the people.
Quote time!
From the Wind Singer:
Hanno Hath came into the front room, and made his farewells. He kissed baby Pinpin, still sleeping in Mrs Hath's arms. He kissed his wife, who for all her defiance couldn't keep the tears from her eyes. Then he kissed Bowman, whispering to him as he did so,
'Look after Kess for me."
He swung his suitcase into one hand and strode out of the door. The marshals fell into step, one on each side, and the two scarlet-gowned teachers waddled along behind. The crowd fell back to gaze in silence at the little procession as it passed. The Hath family stood together on their front step, watching him go. They held their heads high, and waved after him, as if he was going on a holiday. But the onlookers shook their heads and murmured, 'Poor man', at the shame of it all.
As the procession reached the corner of the street, Hanno Hath stopped for a brief moment, and looked back. He gave a last wave, a wide sweep of his arm above his head, and smiled. Bowman never forgot that wave, or that smile, because as he watched from the steps he caught his father's feelings in a sudden very clear moment. He felt the immensity of his father's love for them all, warm and strong and inexhaustible, and he felt too a silent cry of desolation, which if it had words would be saying, Must I leave you for ever?
At the same time Rufy Blesh's father, who was standing close by, saw that smile and that defiant wave, and Bowman heard him say to his wife, 'He can smile as much as he wants, they'll never let him see his family again.'
That was when Bowman decided, deep inside himself, that there was nothing he would not do to bring his father back, that he would destroy all of Aramanth if he had to, for what did he care for a lifetime of this neat and orderly world compared to one moment of his father's brave loving smile?
Slaves of the Mastery:
'Why do you look out of the window all the time?' Sisi asked her. It wasn't that she objected: she simply wanted to know. Everything Kestrel did fascinated her.
'Because my people came this way.'
Every day Kestrel saw the signs. They were following the same road as the march.
'Oh!' said Sisi, surprised. 'Do you still care about your people?'
'Yes.'
'Even though you've got me now?'
'Yes.'
'But you don't care about them more than me, do you? I'm terribly nice to you. Lunki says I spoil you.'
'Yes, I care about them more than you. Just as you care about your father and mother more than you care about me.'
Sisi thought about that. She did love her father and mother, she supposed, quite a lot really, only they weren't at all interesting, and if they were to be taken away, as Kestrel's father and mother had been taken away, she wasn't sure she'd miss them so very terribly.
'But your people are gone, darling,' she pointed out. 'And I'm not. So really and truly, I think I'm more important now.'
Kestrel turned her great dark eyes on her, and Sisi felt the thrill she always felt at her friend's strength and mystery. It was as if however long she looked she could never see to the bottom of her.
'I have a brother,' said Kestrel, 'a twin brother, who's as close to me as I am to myself. He knows what I'm feeling without me having to say it. If he died, I would die. But he's alive. Every day, I come closer to him. Soon we'll be together again, as we have been from the day we were born.'
Tears came into Sisi's eyes as she heard this.
'I wish I had a twin brother,' she said.
'No, you don't. It's not good to be so close to another person.'
'Why not?'
'It makes you not need other people.'
'What's wrong with that?'
'Oh, Sisi,' said Kestrel. 'However are you going to cope with being married?'
Sisi shrugged. It was a subject she preferred not to think about.
'They'll tell me what to do, and I'll do it. That's how it is when you're a princess.'
Kestrel looked out of the window once more, saying as casually as she could,
'Wouldn't you rather marry one of your own people?'
'One of my own people?' The question surprised Sisi. 'Who?'
'I don't know. There must be some young man who's caught your eye.'
'No. There isn't. Who would there be?'
'Well -' Kestrel didn't want Sisi to see through her motives, and cast round in her mind for some plausible candidates. It wasn't easy. 'Ozoh the augur?' she said at last?
'Ozoh? He's half-snake!'
'Barzan?'
'Old, dull, and married.'
'Zohon?'
'He's always smiling when there's nothing to smile about. And anyway, he only loves himself.'
Kestrel was impressed. She hadn't realised Sisi was so sensible.
'And there's another thing, darling,' Sisi went on. 'All my people are inferior to me, because I'm a princess, and my husband has to be superior to me, so he'll have to come from somewhere else.'
'He doesn't have to be superior to you.'
'Would you marry an inferior husband? Don't be silly, darling. It wouldn't work at all.'
'He could be superior in some ways, and you could be superior in others.'
Sisi thought about that.
'Yes, that would work. I think I'd quite like that. Only there still isn't anybody, is there? So I might as well marry this man my parents have chosen for me.'
'Well,' said Kestrel, feeling she'd done all she could, 'I'm just glad I'm not a princess.'
After a short silence, Sisi said in a quiet voice,
'It isn't at all what people think. Nobody ever tells you anything. You never go anywhere. You never meet anybody. You're supposed to be better than everyone else but really you're a sort of doll in a doll's house.'
Kestrel was touched.
'You could always stop being a princess.'
'What else am I good for? I've never been taught to do anything for myself. All I know is how to be beautiful.'
'Oh, Sisi.'
'Don't tell anyone I talk like this. They wouldn't understand. The doll princess is supposed to be radiant, and happy, and -'
She gave Kestrel the oddest smile, and turned her head away.
Firesong:
At last there was only one bride colour remaining, the blue knotted strip held by the youngest of the Manth girls, Ashar Warmish. One young man waited at the end of the double line, wearing a blue band on his arm. Because he was the last, the atmosphere became more relaxed. His companions were starting to talk among themselves, and compare their wounds, while the leaders, the ones whose colours were further down the line, were already making their choice of bride. But first the final blindfolded youth must make his way down the lines.
Kestrel saw the difference as soon as he started. He was no stronger than those who had gone before him; nor was he nimbler at evading the blows. He simply cared less. He walked with his scarfed head held high, accepting the hammer-strikes to his back, reeling under the impact, finding his balance once more, and moving on: all as if he felt nothing. Shortly the others watching realised something unusual was happening, and their eyes turned from the brides to the blindfolded boy stalking down the lines. Already he was past the halfway mark, and he had made no sound. He turned his unseeing head towards the blows, seeming to invite them to strike him. Kestrel found herself thinking, How can he mind so little? Does he want to die? He walked on as if into the waves of the sea, turning always towards the higher wave and the higher, breasting the breakers and finding there an increase of strength. One club caught him full in his masked face with a sound of crunching flesh, but still he strode on.
Now in full silence all the klin watched, as he passed the three-quarter line, smashed and lashed but never brought down. Now he was past the white cloth marker, which was the furthest any of the others had got, and still he did not fall. Now the blows fell harder, and he staggered and tottered, but the big men with their clubs and their whips could not bring him down. Barra, father of the klin, stood at the far end, watching with his hard eyes, and the young man came nearer and nearer.
Why? thought Kestrel, as spellbound as the rest. Why take so much punishment? No bride is worth so much pain. And as she thought it, she knew, as everyone watching knew, that this was nothing to do with the brides, or even the klin. This, she said to herself, is a young man who chooses pain. He refuses to fall to his knees because he does not want his suffering to end.
On he strode, and now the entire klin knew he was going to the very end. Barra slowly opened wide his arms. The blindfolded boy, beaten and broken and barely conscious, walked on across the end line and into the klin father's embrace.
There he fell, and for a few moments it seemed he had paid the price for his foolhardy glory. Then Barra looked up and said,
'Aya! Honour him!' He barked out the klin's cry. 'Aya! Aya! He is the first to walk the storm to the end!'
Men and women, young and old, joined him, calling together, stamping the deck and beating their hands in time to the cry.
'Aya! Aya! Aya!'
End of long quotes.
If you think this sounds good, please seek them out. William Nicholson is the author. :)
*
Recently, I've also been crazier than usual about Megan Whalen Turner's books. Because the next book is coming out in April (I think it's April now, hopefully it isn't delayed). The prologue and the whole FIRST TWO CHAPTERS are up on the Harper Collins website! :D Since the book's about Sophos, I guess it's more setting the stage for Eugenides as Annux. :) Meanwhile, my copies of The Thief and The Queen of Attolia are out roaming though, hope they return soon and in not too bad a condition. :)
Then there's Survivor. I watch it faithfully every week, on playback. :) Then after watching it I go and read interviews and Jeff Probst's blog and stuff. It's quite interesting to read all the debate about who's the best survivor player - some people think it's the person who's manage to lie and backstab best in the spirit of the game, others think it has to be the person who got to the end with the least blood on their hands. And it's interesting to read people criticise others' game moves, while the person comes up with their reasons for why they did that particular thing in interviews.
As for manga, I regularly read the new chapter of Vampire Knight scanlated, on the 24th of each month. It makes me happy even through exams.
Then for music, my current love is Kamelot. At different times in my life, different music resonates with me. I think it started with things like the Corrs and Mariah Carey, then boybands (A1 mostly), and then My Chemical Romance and the Killers and Delta Goodrem and sometimes Muse and then Nightwish and now mostly Kamelot although I like listening to SS501 or random Korean songs or Jonas Brothers. I have tended to follow bands more than popular individual songs.
Last but not least, amongst the things I can think of now, there's Animorphs when I was younger. The time my brother gave me the Ellimist Chronicles as a present was one of those moments I was very happy, so happy that I forgot about earthly worries for a while. You seldom get those moments!
I most frequently re-read the Hork Bajir Chronicles though. Seerow's Kindness was a revelation to me.
Also, Animorphs has very amusing moments. Recently I was reminded of this quote by Aximili:
"You do not know me," he said, "but I am a juvenile delinquent. I do not trust authority figures, I probably will not graduate from high school, and statistics say my present rowdiness and vandalism will likely lead to more serious crimes. I am a dangerous fellow, and I am causing mayhem in this store." He reached behind her and pulled three jars of baby food from the top shelf. Shoved them behind a box of macaroni. Shuffled the Cheez Whiz in front of the Marshmallow Fluff. Tossed a bag of lady's shavers onto a bag of hamburger buns. "There. I have now shamelessly destroyed the symmetry of this shelf, undoing hours of labor by underpaid store employees. If you could see me, you would be frightened."
I think that's all to this long long post. I'm quite sure some of you will not read it to the end.
Regards,
Alaris
Labels: books, kamelot, likes, music, mwt, survivor, vampire knight, wind on fire
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