Sadly I haven't been able to do anything for Halloween this year. Nothing for Samhain this night; this too short and too delicate rift between worlds. I was too ill to go to a Halloween party, and there were no trick or treaters at my door; possibly because there were no pumpkins outside my house. Well, special is as special comes. Or wicked comes. I got to keep whole packets of chocolates to myself (and for my family too) at any rate. And I bought a cauldron mug and a black cat hand sanitizer.
Happy Halloween to all, regardless 💀🝯👻👻
Thursday, 31 October 2019
Friday, 25 October 2019
I haven't been with it lately. I've been ill with a bad cold and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being sick. I might suddenly loathe reading again - classics, to be precise. So many disappointments. I'm stagnant. I'm impatient for things to happen. Everything is awful :( Hope I feel better and more fulfilled soon. If this keeps going who knows how I will feel. I'm very lonely, except for my kittens who are a nice source of amusement. I don't really want to live as a lonely cat lady. I want to feel happiness with other people; to be more social. But right now I can't. I'm sick of all of this. I'm sick of the mundane, and sticking to routine. I want a big change to happen. Perhaps I'll find - make - time to write. I think I can find comfort and satisfaction, even though nothing lasts forever.
Saturday, 19 October 2019
Book Review - 'The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics (Feminine Pursuits #1)' by Olivia Waite
2023 Reread: I admit, I got a little bored of this the second time round. I wasn't feeling the romance, the connection, the chemistry, the, ahem, machinations of it all. Lucy and Catherine are not as strong, interesting, memorable or likeable (as in, I'd have liked them to have some backbone, and be steel-spined and smart) as I had once thought, and I barely remembered what they were like after my first read years ago. Before the reread, I only clearly remembered the groundbreaking twist at the end.
The writing, while not bad, gets repetitive: I am not exaggerating when I say that nearly every page contains either Lucy or Catherine "taking a breath", "holding a breath", "letting out a breath", taking long breaths, inhaling and exhaling laboured breaths, and other descriptors of just about any way a person can breathe in a standard cheesy romance novel - out of nervousness, surprise, anger, desire expressed via flushing, or passion expressed while in ecstasy. In at least a few instances, breathing is described more than once in a single page. The overuse of breathing being written in 'The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics' is, if I may be so bold, fragrant and flagrant, and trite and uninspired, and it never has anything to do with the breathing exercises sometimes used to calm panic attacks or anything of the kind. The phrase "slight smile" is also noticeably overused.
And I loathe nearly every male character in the book. Mr. Frampton and Brinkworth the butler are good, though.
I appreciate the all subject matters presented, and the diversity. Writing, characters, and the slow story, not so much.
In conclusion: Maybe historical romances aren't for me, or Harlequin/Mills & Boon-esque romances aren't for me, and there are better, more entertaining LGBTQ+ books out there.
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
A positive, wonderful, sweet, dreamy and steamy, and extremely well written queer (w/w) historical fiction romance: between a deceased astronomer's daughter who wishes to be an astronomer herself, the young and headstrong Lucy Muchelney, and a shy yet worldly widow to a travelling scientist who is fantastic at embroidery and other artistic pursuits, the closed off Lady Catherine Kenwick St. Day, Countess of Moth.
Each woman, among many, many others, is well educated, intelligent, talented, hardworking, warm, friendly, supportive, and brilliant. And the world of 1816, England, that only favours men, will turn against them at every turn, simply in regards to their sex, when they could honestly change the world for the better. Think of the giant, progressive leaps in science - and art - they could make, if given the chance.
A chance to shine like the billions of stars and constellations seen through a telescope at night.
Women have always deserved to be recognised and respected.
What a beautifully written romance 'A Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics' is. This is a harlequin romance pocketbook worth reading, and not just for the LBGTQ rep in historical fiction. The pretty explicit sex scenes are only part of the passionate aspects of the book.
Lucy and Catherine, two opposites but are women of great talent and ambition (though Catherine is more reserved and repressed, not to mention simultaneously scared and bored, as the result of the social conventions she is forced to conform to, and her abusive marriage), are startling and surprising to each other; as well as to the rest of the world, and themselves. They really are adorable together, and bring out the best - and life changing revelations - in the other.
Lucy is a scientist (unacknowledged) and an avid and imaginative translator of a groundbreaking French astronomy text, recovering from a broken heart; and Catherine (coded bi) is an enchanting artist who despite being a countess is deemed a useless widow and older woman in society, who takes Lucy into her home for her to do her work. Their love ignites, blossoms and boldly unfolds in a towering, astronomical ecstasy - from the library to the bedroom. And the astronomy tower. Their star will not die.
Science and art are not so very different from each other, for they both reveal human truths in their own way. Both fields are worthwhile and important for progress, as our queer lady couple will come to realise and understand as they develop.
The side characters are well developed and memorable as well, including the maids, a butler, a female publisher, and Catherine's Aunt Kelmarsh. Lucy's older brother Stephen, who is an artist who can afford to indulge in his passion, is awful, and the men of a London Society of scientific minds are no better. Their way of thinking is not so much progressive as merely an exercise in bragging rights and penis measuring. An excuse to be patronising and superior in their white male privilege. There are some decent men in both the scientific and artistic circles, however. Not all of them are straight, either.
Thankfully there is nonwhite representation, in characters such as Narayan, Catherine's maid, and William Frampton, the genius mathematician and inventor. Sexism, homophobia, and racism are issues that are presented with care and accuracy in this book. Intersectional feminism is key.
Nice to know that LBGTQ lovers could be freer before the 16th-19th centuries. Fact.
The book loses a star for me because I think it gets weaker towards its ending, storywise - like a third act contrivance, and it loses dynamic steam somewhat. A few characters don't receive the most satisfactory final scenes either, when they show up at all; their arcs are a little flimsy and flighty.
'The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics' - A celestial joy. Silky, sensual, like it was flung from space, from the celestial heavens. It is hindered only by a weak but nonetheless woke and essential ending (that "twist" is worth it). If you liked Mackenzie Lee's 'A Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy', then you're sure to adore this just as much.
An important edition to anyone's LBGTQ bookshelf.
Final Score: 4/5
The writing, while not bad, gets repetitive: I am not exaggerating when I say that nearly every page contains either Lucy or Catherine "taking a breath", "holding a breath", "letting out a breath", taking long breaths, inhaling and exhaling laboured breaths, and other descriptors of just about any way a person can breathe in a standard cheesy romance novel - out of nervousness, surprise, anger, desire expressed via flushing, or passion expressed while in ecstasy. In at least a few instances, breathing is described more than once in a single page. The overuse of breathing being written in 'The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics' is, if I may be so bold, fragrant and flagrant, and trite and uninspired, and it never has anything to do with the breathing exercises sometimes used to calm panic attacks or anything of the kind. The phrase "slight smile" is also noticeably overused.
And I loathe nearly every male character in the book. Mr. Frampton and Brinkworth the butler are good, though.
I appreciate the all subject matters presented, and the diversity. Writing, characters, and the slow story, not so much.
In conclusion: Maybe historical romances aren't for me, or Harlequin/Mills & Boon-esque romances aren't for me, and there are better, more entertaining LGBTQ+ books out there.
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
A positive, wonderful, sweet, dreamy and steamy, and extremely well written queer (w/w) historical fiction romance: between a deceased astronomer's daughter who wishes to be an astronomer herself, the young and headstrong Lucy Muchelney, and a shy yet worldly widow to a travelling scientist who is fantastic at embroidery and other artistic pursuits, the closed off Lady Catherine Kenwick St. Day, Countess of Moth.
Each woman, among many, many others, is well educated, intelligent, talented, hardworking, warm, friendly, supportive, and brilliant. And the world of 1816, England, that only favours men, will turn against them at every turn, simply in regards to their sex, when they could honestly change the world for the better. Think of the giant, progressive leaps in science - and art - they could make, if given the chance.
A chance to shine like the billions of stars and constellations seen through a telescope at night.
Women have always deserved to be recognised and respected.
What a beautifully written romance 'A Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics' is. This is a harlequin romance pocketbook worth reading, and not just for the LBGTQ rep in historical fiction. The pretty explicit sex scenes are only part of the passionate aspects of the book.
Lucy and Catherine, two opposites but are women of great talent and ambition (though Catherine is more reserved and repressed, not to mention simultaneously scared and bored, as the result of the social conventions she is forced to conform to, and her abusive marriage), are startling and surprising to each other; as well as to the rest of the world, and themselves. They really are adorable together, and bring out the best - and life changing revelations - in the other.
Lucy is a scientist (unacknowledged) and an avid and imaginative translator of a groundbreaking French astronomy text, recovering from a broken heart; and Catherine (coded bi) is an enchanting artist who despite being a countess is deemed a useless widow and older woman in society, who takes Lucy into her home for her to do her work. Their love ignites, blossoms and boldly unfolds in a towering, astronomical ecstasy - from the library to the bedroom. And the astronomy tower. Their star will not die.
Science and art are not so very different from each other, for they both reveal human truths in their own way. Both fields are worthwhile and important for progress, as our queer lady couple will come to realise and understand as they develop.
The side characters are well developed and memorable as well, including the maids, a butler, a female publisher, and Catherine's Aunt Kelmarsh. Lucy's older brother Stephen, who is an artist who can afford to indulge in his passion, is awful, and the men of a London Society of scientific minds are no better. Their way of thinking is not so much progressive as merely an exercise in bragging rights and penis measuring. An excuse to be patronising and superior in their white male privilege. There are some decent men in both the scientific and artistic circles, however. Not all of them are straight, either.
Thankfully there is nonwhite representation, in characters such as Narayan, Catherine's maid, and William Frampton, the genius mathematician and inventor. Sexism, homophobia, and racism are issues that are presented with care and accuracy in this book. Intersectional feminism is key.
Nice to know that LBGTQ lovers could be freer before the 16th-19th centuries. Fact.
The book loses a star for me because I think it gets weaker towards its ending, storywise - like a third act contrivance, and it loses dynamic steam somewhat. A few characters don't receive the most satisfactory final scenes either, when they show up at all; their arcs are a little flimsy and flighty.
'The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics' - A celestial joy. Silky, sensual, like it was flung from space, from the celestial heavens. It is hindered only by a weak but nonetheless woke and essential ending (that "twist" is worth it). If you liked Mackenzie Lee's 'A Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy', then you're sure to adore this just as much.
An important edition to anyone's LBGTQ bookshelf.
Final Score: 4/5
Sunday, 13 October 2019
Book Review - 'The Burning' by Laura Bates
'The Burning' burned me. Quite literally as I was burning with anger, rage, horror, and tearful devastation at the events which take place in it. Events which are absolutely real and are happening to this day. To say I am appalled would be the understatement of the millennium.
Laura Bates' 'The Burning' burned and broke me. And I couldn't be happier that it exists.
Because the issues it raises - to do with social media, revenge porn, rampant and undying misogyny, mob mentality, sexist school dress codes, taking care of loved ones, disabilities, mother and daughter relationships, abortion, and toxic masculinity - are real. The story of Anna, a fifteen-year-old British girl who moves to Scotland with her mum to escape her destroyed life, is fictional, but the abuse isn't.
Laura Bates, the feminist pioneer, journalist and founder of Everyday Sexism, had talked to schoolgirls of today and what they face (and continues to do so), and researched about them when writing her novel debut. She also did her research on the epidemic of witch burnings and hangings in the 17th century (as well as the instruments of torture used back then), and how misogyny still exists; only different methods are used to kill women and girls. Methods like social media.
Revenge porn, porn in general, slut shaming, shaming in general just for existing, humiliation, victim blaming, peer pressure - social media is a tool that has made these so powerful, so prevalent, so easy. Misogyny - linking to homophobia, male privilege and fragility, etc. - is like pollution; like a second layer of the oxygen that we breathe. It is yet another tool for oppression and abuse.
And it spreads, and kills, like a fire.
There are no words: Being a teenage girl at school nowadays must be a nightmare.
They just cannot win. The patriarchy has deliberately calculated it so that they can't.
Really, after reading 'The Burning', it seems to me that the only reason why not all women were murdered during the witch hunt craze of centuries past is because there were women who joined in on the accusations, the taunting and the shaming, as a survival tactic. They were "the good girls", according to the men in charge; no voice, no fuss, no annoyances (seriously, men could have their wives convicted of witchcraft just for being "nags"), no breaking from convention, and therefore they were worthy of living. Internalized misogyny and men's misogyny go hand in hand to ensure the survival of the human race, in a sick, twisted catch-22 situation.
It also seems to me that most males hate females so much it kills them inside. There have always been boys and men who would masturbate constantly over pictures of nude girls (including underage girls) - which says a lot about their own nonexistent sex lives - and at the same time would tell these girls to go kill themselves for being deemed sluts. Replace "slut" and "slag" and "whore" and "bitch" with the word "witch", and see how scarily little things have changed for females in our so-called progressive times. Women are not and have never been witches or sluts or bitches or even rebels; they just exist.
They are girls, and that alone is a punishable offense.
The public shaming and humiliation techniques for oppressing girls - any excuse to oppress, control and even kill girls - are there. Same house, same system, different tools.
Misogyny = girl has body, she deserves ridicule, torment and death; girl has voice, she deserves ridicule, torment and death. It's to keep her down, to keep her small, to make her appear unseen yet seen; for convenient hetero male consumption and perversion (which the men will then blame the women for). It's to make women deemed no longer human in society, and so deserving of literally every horrifying and purely evil thing to happen to her.
For the initiators of revenge porn and other online and public misogynistic abuse practices, there is no line they will not cross. They have no decency, no conscience, no heart, no soul. They are evil, they are monsters, they are criminals, and there is no excusing their actions. They are predators: dead set, determined, and unwavering and relentless in harassing and destroying their prey by any inhumane means. They feed off of their victim's misery and despair. They simply do not care, because they know they can get away with it. That no one can successfully stop them. Because when has anybody ever? If their female prey do end up killing themselves to escape it all, then the misogynists win, and they will positively revel in it, and will consider it a victory. Another slut dead, who cares? and now to find a new target.
Misogyny and sociopathy - I honestly cannot think of a more dangerous and terrifying combination.
(And I've yet to see any evidence which suggests that most misogynists are not sociopaths.)
For all the good that the internet and social media has done for us humans, it has made this possible as well.
Misogyny - the almost universal, irrational, violent, sadistic, perverse, lustful, tormenting and all-consuming hatred of all women - the "lesser" humans - for existing - is a disease, and we must work on curing it for good. We can't keep living like this. It needs to stop, for literally everyone's sake.
In 'The Burning', everything that happens, every issue it presents, is there for a reason. It is very well written for a debut novel. Similar to all good suspense thrillers it starts out calm and slow, but like any fire spark to a gas leak it can explode in a hot, burning devastation when you least expect it; when you are at your most comfortable and vulnerable, unaware of your impending victimhood. All of the characters except for the evil, monstrous schoolboy bullies are well defined and developed. There is female friendship (and moving on from bad friends), rocky, multidimensional and positive mother and daughter bonding (more YA needs this, I swear), grief and dealing with the loss of a parent, befriending a genuinely nice boy (a bookworm, so you know he's good), befriending a nice elderly man and local author in a wheelchair, making lists as a coping mechanism, swimming, and a cat.
As for the reviewers who criticise the supernatural element to the book, involving a four-hundred-year-old necklace that can pass on the previous wearer's memories to its current possessor, and possible real witchcraft? Come on - as if cultural misogyny, slut shaming and victim blaming are any less ludicrous and illogical. It didn't pull me out of the story at all, in fact I found it to be mysterious, thrilling and exciting. And the book makes it clear that the women in it are not witches - they are only called that by the people who hate them and want them dead. The simultaneity of the words "witch" and "slut" is deliberate.
Women, whatever the time period, are just their own full, rich, complex selves. They are human, and that's that: there is no debating it. Why are there so many people who can't seem to comprehend this?
Oh right, the wicked spell of misogyny cast by the patriarchy which is as yet unbroken.
'The Burning' - just read it, even if it will destroy you. Even if it will make you bemoan humanity throughout. That's a good thing. Every issue in it needs to be made aware to everybody, because it speaks the truth. It's YA about rape culture that doesn't end on a downer, nor leave you cold, hollow and hopeless like Louise O'Neill's 'Asking for It'. It is 'Speak' for the 2010s, and a worthy follow up to Courtney Summers' 'All the Rage'.
Anger can be a useful tool for ending the patriarchy, rather than feeding it. Be brave, be resolute. Fuck knows it's not easy, but try. Try not to give up, otherwise they win.
Remember: love - and support - will always be far more powerful, impactful and longer lasting than hate.
Final Score: 4.5/5
Laura Bates' 'The Burning' burned and broke me. And I couldn't be happier that it exists.
Because the issues it raises - to do with social media, revenge porn, rampant and undying misogyny, mob mentality, sexist school dress codes, taking care of loved ones, disabilities, mother and daughter relationships, abortion, and toxic masculinity - are real. The story of Anna, a fifteen-year-old British girl who moves to Scotland with her mum to escape her destroyed life, is fictional, but the abuse isn't.
Laura Bates, the feminist pioneer, journalist and founder of Everyday Sexism, had talked to schoolgirls of today and what they face (and continues to do so), and researched about them when writing her novel debut. She also did her research on the epidemic of witch burnings and hangings in the 17th century (as well as the instruments of torture used back then), and how misogyny still exists; only different methods are used to kill women and girls. Methods like social media.
Revenge porn, porn in general, slut shaming, shaming in general just for existing, humiliation, victim blaming, peer pressure - social media is a tool that has made these so powerful, so prevalent, so easy. Misogyny - linking to homophobia, male privilege and fragility, etc. - is like pollution; like a second layer of the oxygen that we breathe. It is yet another tool for oppression and abuse.
And it spreads, and kills, like a fire.
There are no words: Being a teenage girl at school nowadays must be a nightmare.
They just cannot win. The patriarchy has deliberately calculated it so that they can't.
Really, after reading 'The Burning', it seems to me that the only reason why not all women were murdered during the witch hunt craze of centuries past is because there were women who joined in on the accusations, the taunting and the shaming, as a survival tactic. They were "the good girls", according to the men in charge; no voice, no fuss, no annoyances (seriously, men could have their wives convicted of witchcraft just for being "nags"), no breaking from convention, and therefore they were worthy of living. Internalized misogyny and men's misogyny go hand in hand to ensure the survival of the human race, in a sick, twisted catch-22 situation.
It also seems to me that most males hate females so much it kills them inside. There have always been boys and men who would masturbate constantly over pictures of nude girls (including underage girls) - which says a lot about their own nonexistent sex lives - and at the same time would tell these girls to go kill themselves for being deemed sluts. Replace "slut" and "slag" and "whore" and "bitch" with the word "witch", and see how scarily little things have changed for females in our so-called progressive times. Women are not and have never been witches or sluts or bitches or even rebels; they just exist.
They are girls, and that alone is a punishable offense.
The public shaming and humiliation techniques for oppressing girls - any excuse to oppress, control and even kill girls - are there. Same house, same system, different tools.
Misogyny = girl has body, she deserves ridicule, torment and death; girl has voice, she deserves ridicule, torment and death. It's to keep her down, to keep her small, to make her appear unseen yet seen; for convenient hetero male consumption and perversion (which the men will then blame the women for). It's to make women deemed no longer human in society, and so deserving of literally every horrifying and purely evil thing to happen to her.
For the initiators of revenge porn and other online and public misogynistic abuse practices, there is no line they will not cross. They have no decency, no conscience, no heart, no soul. They are evil, they are monsters, they are criminals, and there is no excusing their actions. They are predators: dead set, determined, and unwavering and relentless in harassing and destroying their prey by any inhumane means. They feed off of their victim's misery and despair. They simply do not care, because they know they can get away with it. That no one can successfully stop them. Because when has anybody ever? If their female prey do end up killing themselves to escape it all, then the misogynists win, and they will positively revel in it, and will consider it a victory. Another slut dead, who cares? and now to find a new target.
Misogyny and sociopathy - I honestly cannot think of a more dangerous and terrifying combination.
(And I've yet to see any evidence which suggests that most misogynists are not sociopaths.)
For all the good that the internet and social media has done for us humans, it has made this possible as well.
Misogyny - the almost universal, irrational, violent, sadistic, perverse, lustful, tormenting and all-consuming hatred of all women - the "lesser" humans - for existing - is a disease, and we must work on curing it for good. We can't keep living like this. It needs to stop, for literally everyone's sake.
In 'The Burning', everything that happens, every issue it presents, is there for a reason. It is very well written for a debut novel. Similar to all good suspense thrillers it starts out calm and slow, but like any fire spark to a gas leak it can explode in a hot, burning devastation when you least expect it; when you are at your most comfortable and vulnerable, unaware of your impending victimhood. All of the characters except for the evil, monstrous schoolboy bullies are well defined and developed. There is female friendship (and moving on from bad friends), rocky, multidimensional and positive mother and daughter bonding (more YA needs this, I swear), grief and dealing with the loss of a parent, befriending a genuinely nice boy (a bookworm, so you know he's good), befriending a nice elderly man and local author in a wheelchair, making lists as a coping mechanism, swimming, and a cat.
As for the reviewers who criticise the supernatural element to the book, involving a four-hundred-year-old necklace that can pass on the previous wearer's memories to its current possessor, and possible real witchcraft? Come on - as if cultural misogyny, slut shaming and victim blaming are any less ludicrous and illogical. It didn't pull me out of the story at all, in fact I found it to be mysterious, thrilling and exciting. And the book makes it clear that the women in it are not witches - they are only called that by the people who hate them and want them dead. The simultaneity of the words "witch" and "slut" is deliberate.
Women, whatever the time period, are just their own full, rich, complex selves. They are human, and that's that: there is no debating it. Why are there so many people who can't seem to comprehend this?
Oh right, the wicked spell of misogyny cast by the patriarchy which is as yet unbroken.
'The Burning' - just read it, even if it will destroy you. Even if it will make you bemoan humanity throughout. That's a good thing. Every issue in it needs to be made aware to everybody, because it speaks the truth. It's YA about rape culture that doesn't end on a downer, nor leave you cold, hollow and hopeless like Louise O'Neill's 'Asking for It'. It is 'Speak' for the 2010s, and a worthy follow up to Courtney Summers' 'All the Rage'.
Anger can be a useful tool for ending the patriarchy, rather than feeding it. Be brave, be resolute. Fuck knows it's not easy, but try. Try not to give up, otherwise they win.
Remember: love - and support - will always be far more powerful, impactful and longer lasting than hate.
Final Score: 4.5/5
Book Review - 'The Addams Family: Wednesday's Library' by Alexandra West and Calliope Glass
Who hasn't had a fascination with Wednesday Addams in at least one point in their lives? The morbid and spooky little goth girl who's obsessed with all things dark and negative like: death, violence, torture, suffering, devastation, misery, gloom, hopelessness, fear and manipulation. And witchcraft. She's arguably more popular than the franchise she came from.
No wonder, since she represents the dark horse and weird social outcast we wish we could be. She is an (oc)cult icon.
'The Addams Family: Wednesday's Library' is a collection of classic gothic poetry and novel quotes, with Wednesday's insightful, sadistic and humourous commentary; on why she loves these literary woes. They include Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, Shakespeare, 'Frankenstein', 'The Divine Comedy', 'The Scarlet Letter', 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow', 'Les Miserables', 'The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde', 'Heart of Darkness', 'Dracula', 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', 'Paradise Lost', 'Jane Eyre', 'Wuthering Heights', and the original Grimm fairy tales.
The appeal is strangely fun and intoxicating, even for children. It reminds me of a creepy, ghostly spiritual successor to 'Belle's Library'. Although it is a quick collection read and not anything too special, and on page 57, where Wednesday comments on a quote from 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde', there is an illustration from 'Alice in Wonderland' for some reason. There are no other 'Alice in Wonderland' references in the book. Was that a mistake? Also, Wednesday mentions having a school teacher at the beginning, but then later on (page 153) she says she's homeschooled. A teacher for her home?
The accompanying illustrations are nice, simple and eerie, with purple watercolours splashed on to match the purple book cover. They feature scorpions, bats, skulls, ravens, trees, trinkets, snakes, brooms, roses, human organs, and big, staring eyeballs.
Ghosts, vampires, graves, witches, and instruments of torture, oh my!
'Wednesday's Library' - Recommended for the demented child in all of us.
'I never understood why Jane [Eyre] would want to look so... normal. Her looks are perfectly wretched.' - page 133
'Shame, despair, solitude! They are teachers to us all.' - page 125
'This same feeling is typical when you're an Addams. People's fear of the abnormal just makes us stronger.' - page 109
'If there is any goodness inside me, then I'm afraid it is broken. How thrilling.' - page 99
'My sentiments exactly. Why marry when you could satiate your curiosity with things like studying poisonous plants or becoming a country's first female dictator?' - page 87
'The best houses have ghosts living in them.' - page 81
'Witches. Blood. Impending devastation. It's as if William Shakespeare were writing about my life.' - page 45
'I would also follow the directives of insane people. They tend to be the most levelheaded people in the room.' - page 39
Final Score: 3.5/5
No wonder, since she represents the dark horse and weird social outcast we wish we could be. She is an (oc)cult icon.
'The Addams Family: Wednesday's Library' is a collection of classic gothic poetry and novel quotes, with Wednesday's insightful, sadistic and humourous commentary; on why she loves these literary woes. They include Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, Shakespeare, 'Frankenstein', 'The Divine Comedy', 'The Scarlet Letter', 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow', 'Les Miserables', 'The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde', 'Heart of Darkness', 'Dracula', 'The Picture of Dorian Gray', 'Paradise Lost', 'Jane Eyre', 'Wuthering Heights', and the original Grimm fairy tales.
The appeal is strangely fun and intoxicating, even for children. It reminds me of a creepy, ghostly spiritual successor to 'Belle's Library'. Although it is a quick collection read and not anything too special, and on page 57, where Wednesday comments on a quote from 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde', there is an illustration from 'Alice in Wonderland' for some reason. There are no other 'Alice in Wonderland' references in the book. Was that a mistake? Also, Wednesday mentions having a school teacher at the beginning, but then later on (page 153) she says she's homeschooled. A teacher for her home?
The accompanying illustrations are nice, simple and eerie, with purple watercolours splashed on to match the purple book cover. They feature scorpions, bats, skulls, ravens, trees, trinkets, snakes, brooms, roses, human organs, and big, staring eyeballs.
Ghosts, vampires, graves, witches, and instruments of torture, oh my!
'Wednesday's Library' - Recommended for the demented child in all of us.
'I never understood why Jane [Eyre] would want to look so... normal. Her looks are perfectly wretched.' - page 133
'Shame, despair, solitude! They are teachers to us all.' - page 125
'This same feeling is typical when you're an Addams. People's fear of the abnormal just makes us stronger.' - page 109
'If there is any goodness inside me, then I'm afraid it is broken. How thrilling.' - page 99
'My sentiments exactly. Why marry when you could satiate your curiosity with things like studying poisonous plants or becoming a country's first female dictator?' - page 87
'The best houses have ghosts living in them.' - page 81
'Witches. Blood. Impending devastation. It's as if William Shakespeare were writing about my life.' - page 45
'I would also follow the directives of insane people. They tend to be the most levelheaded people in the room.' - page 39
Final Score: 3.5/5
Tuesday, 8 October 2019
Scribble #104
Why are we so attracted to superheroes? To antiheroes? It may well be because they are so brave and selfless, and so willing to risk their own lives to help other people, while asking for nothing in return. We want to believe that there are people out there, like us, under the masks, who are purely altruistic and wishing to make the world a better place; no strings attached, and no ulterior motives. We want to believe in the good in humanity so badly; to believe desperately in the brilliant, the self-sacrificing, the saviours who are outside of the unfair and unjust laws of our society. Superheroes, antiheroes: the good (or at least willing) people who work outside of the law, for no pay, nothing. They are the outcasts; the underdogs; the black sheep; we see - we project - our better selves in these mysterious, almost transcendent do-gooders. Politics and other restrictions don't apply to them. They are the rebels, the destroyers and unforgiving mirrors of the system. Most of them do good simply because they want to. They are in a position where they are not so easily corruptible. Any power that superheroes possess boils down to (or it should) might for right, not might makes right. And that is why these heroes - and true, real life, everyday heroes, who don't wear masks and capes but are nonetheless heroic - are so popular.
Films that make white people uncomfortable don't make it to the Oscars. Films that make white men uncomfortable don't make it to the Oscars. The Oscars are old and dying out, and we know it. It's all pretentious, white male naval gazing and fart sniffing. At least, it needs an upgrade, fast.
Films that make white people uncomfortable don't make it to the Oscars. Films that make white men uncomfortable don't make it to the Oscars. The Oscars are old and dying out, and we know it. It's all pretentious, white male naval gazing and fart sniffing. At least, it needs an upgrade, fast.
Sunday, 6 October 2019
Book Review - 'The House at the End of Hope Street' by Menna van Praag
2021 EDIT: I realised as I was rereading 'The House at the End of Hope Street' that a lot of the problems that the author's other work, 'The Sisters Grimm', has - pointless and unneeded alternate character POV scenes, messy story structure, meandering scenes of drama without the drama, silly and frustrating romantic melodrama (predominantly hetero), stupid female characters who are slaves to their hormones and the whims and "charms" of men, and all around fluff and padding - are in fact present here as well. Though 'The Sisters Grimm' is far more egregious and perpetual in its flaws. On the other hand, the main characters in 'The House at the End of Hope Street' are supposed to be adults, so.. the childish rom com drama wasn't fun to read about.
I adored 'The House at the End of Hope Street' once, only a couple of years ago, and at first I did again. But like with 'The Sisters Grimm', I got bored of the non-progress and non-plot happening after a while. I liked the characters on their own (even if I had nearly nothing in common with any of them, nor the same tastes in books and/or films, among other things), but together, they are often so alien, dark, distant, neglectful and mean to each other. This is with the female characters; but when it comes to them interacting with men, they're hopeless, needy and pathetic. Just like in 'The Sisters Grimm'.
Sisterhood isn't seen to be nearly as important as attention from males, romantic or otherwise.
Why perpetuate the stereotype that all women are needy, overemotional, helpless, fragile and easily broken? That they don't really like casual sex, only monogamy forever? That they all need men, marriage and babies in order to be fulfilled in life? The LBGTQ content in 'The House at the End of Hope Street' is a small feature compared with the bombardment of "WOMEN LOVE MEN, WOMEN NEED MEN, MEN AND BABIES ARE EVERYTHING TO WOMEN!" that's sprawled throughout the novel. The one heterosexual female lead who is nearly forty and is constantly pressured by her mother and society at large to find a man and have kids already? She does want kids, but she can't, biologically. And that is what is presented as her greatest sorrow and shame, more than her failing career. How sexist and insulting.
(Don't worry, she'll find a man and have a stepdaughter and become a surrogate mother to others eventually - it's part of her arc, that simply must contain romance because she's a woman.)
The book is very aphobic, though that should go without saying. EVERYBODY has to be paired up with somebody, or at least she, uh, they, must look to be a romantic and sexual prospective partner sometime in the future. The fear of dying alone and unloved - and heaven forbid a virgin - and finding that special life-long-guaranteed lover, is the major plot point in the entire novel. This was published in 2015, so this drenching in normalised patriarchal behaviour and heteronormality is honestly inexcusable.
So 'The House at the End of Hope Street' turned out to be not as feminist as I remember it, sadly, in my opinion. Oh well. Keep learning and keep moving forward. The take-action-now and you-only-live-once message is still good. So is the wonderful, fantastic premise. Less good is the contrivances for the sake of drama and padding out the "story", and the ghost-seeing-and-interacting plot point, which undermines, or should I say kills (pun unintended), any sense of loss and grief a character might be experiencing. The dead - as ghosts, photos or by other means - are still present and regularly chat with the living, no problem, no meaningful conversation about loss. Even for fantasy, it is a bit much.
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
If you are a woman of any creative disposition - writing, drawing, painting, sewing, dressmaking, acting, singing, liberating and fighting for women's rights, you name it - it is the way of the patriarchal world to turn against you; to make you feel small, trivial, insignificant, inconsequential, and fit only for marriage and babies. To make you doubt yourself constantly. To make you feel lost.
Because whoever heard of creativity in women, they with the little, feeble, fragile, docile, feminine brains, right? If anything, women only know how to destroy - be it men's creativity, but most of all themselves, and each other.
If you are a woman seeking out her own dreams, ambitions and passions, all of which the patriarchy will do anything to stamp out and snuff out, sometimes violently, then you may well get lost at some point in your life. Women are only human, after all. It is, sadly, far easier - and safer - to just give up on the artist within you and indoctrinate yourself to society's limited, frigid and conservative expectations; which is exactly what the patriarchy wants. It's a prison sentence.
But what if lost, destroyed women were to end up at the house at the end of Hope Street? It's a big, pretty, floral lodging house in Cambridge, England, that's invisible to almost everyone else. It's where life lessons and advice from creative women of the past are passed down to the next generation of lodgers. Where there are sweets, biscuits, hot chocolate, and female friendship. And it's where the deepest desires of the hearts of its female inhabitants are, once realised with a bit of nudging in the right direction.
And magic.
And ghosts.
(And a secret garden.)
Women, like Alba Ashby, once they stay at the house - no. 11 Hope Street - will be given ninety-nine nights to buckle up the courage to be true to themselves, follow their dreams, face their fears, and turn their lives around for the better. Then they have to leave. The house itself is alive and will help them out along the way. As will the eighty-two-year-old landlady, Peggy Abbot.
Ah, 'The House at the End of Hope Street' - what a nice surprise you turned out to be. You are a treasure novel to be found in a pale pink clam - a cloudy, moonlike pearl - under the blue sea. Or a rare azalea at the end of a gorgeous, bright yet understated garden; with ivy, vines and weeds growing in the right places. An enchanting, pleasant chick lit, if it can be called that. What it definitely can be called is every bibliophile's - and creative and disenfranchised lady's - dream, revelation, and wake up call.
Alba is a nineteen-year-old PHD-and-MPhil history dropout with her whole life ahead of her, but she feels it is already over. Her family life is a mess, and half of her living relatives are awful, elitist people. She also possesses a power to see colours where others cannot, particularly the colours of people's emotions. She knows that a lot of people are keeping secrets from her, but has not the resolve and self-confidence to demand honest answers. She also occasionally talks to ghosts.
At the house in Hope Street, Alba will find that there are people out there who love her, and who want to see her succeed in life. She absolutely loves books, and could it be she wants to write one herself - fiction, not just facts - as well as song lyrics? She's lonely and self-conscious. She needs to be assertive and take charge, and do what she really wants to without worrying about what others think of her. Then there's her sexuality...
Alba Ashby is living proof that a privileged life/upbringing is neither the perfect, nor healthy, nor freeing life it is made out to be.
But 'The House at the End of Hope Street' is not only about Alba, oh no. Also at the house are the inner and outer turmoils of the living woman characters (the dead have had their chance at life, and have moved on, but will help out the breathing) of Peggy, Carmen Viera the voluptuous singer from Bragança, and Greer the nearly-forty-year-old struggling and grieving actress with a love of clothes. There are also the non-residents, like Zoe the librarian, and even some men. Everyone is well developed, and I rooted for most of them to work through their issues and have a happily ever after, as their true, fascinating selves.
'The House at the End of Hope Street' is a wonderful book with a great premise that's executed much better than I could have anticipated. It contains one of the sweetest, most darling swan songs I've ever read. I genuinely didn't expect some of the twists, though I really should have, and I could read it over and over again and discover further insights, foreshadowings, and meaningful passages each time.
It's not perfect; it's a bit messy (example: the friendship between Alba, Carmen and Greer, the trio of women residents, could have been developed a lot better, and not so slowly; they are very much involved in their own individual lives to struggle through and deal with), but then, women are messy. Human beings are messy. We are all complicated creatures.
(The potency of Alba's powers is pretty inconsistent and disappears at convenient moments, too.)
All those literary references! They have meaning behind them; they are in the story for a reason. They add subtext and hope to the narrative. It's a subtle and quaint element, plus a nerd mine for a book lover like me in this mystical dreamland!
Menna van Praag's masterpiece can help anyone, not only creative persons, dealing with depression and an existential crisis. She is an author to look out for.
'The House at the End of Hope Street' - Quietly charming, yet loud and proud in its content. Unpretentious, but nonetheless important. And hugely enjoyable. Its characters are complex, lovable, colourful and distinct.
It's to be read by all women of every generation. It's to be visited by every woman of her generation, for unfortunately in this world she'll never be short of issues, confusion, frustrations, and sorrow.
Final Score: 4.5/5
I adored 'The House at the End of Hope Street' once, only a couple of years ago, and at first I did again. But like with 'The Sisters Grimm', I got bored of the non-progress and non-plot happening after a while. I liked the characters on their own (even if I had nearly nothing in common with any of them, nor the same tastes in books and/or films, among other things), but together, they are often so alien, dark, distant, neglectful and mean to each other. This is with the female characters; but when it comes to them interacting with men, they're hopeless, needy and pathetic. Just like in 'The Sisters Grimm'.
Sisterhood isn't seen to be nearly as important as attention from males, romantic or otherwise.
Why perpetuate the stereotype that all women are needy, overemotional, helpless, fragile and easily broken? That they don't really like casual sex, only monogamy forever? That they all need men, marriage and babies in order to be fulfilled in life? The LBGTQ content in 'The House at the End of Hope Street' is a small feature compared with the bombardment of "WOMEN LOVE MEN, WOMEN NEED MEN, MEN AND BABIES ARE EVERYTHING TO WOMEN!" that's sprawled throughout the novel. The one heterosexual female lead who is nearly forty and is constantly pressured by her mother and society at large to find a man and have kids already? She does want kids, but she can't, biologically. And that is what is presented as her greatest sorrow and shame, more than her failing career. How sexist and insulting.
(Don't worry, she'll find a man and have a stepdaughter and become a surrogate mother to others eventually - it's part of her arc, that simply must contain romance because she's a woman.)
The book is very aphobic, though that should go without saying. EVERYBODY has to be paired up with somebody, or at least she, uh, they, must look to be a romantic and sexual prospective partner sometime in the future. The fear of dying alone and unloved - and heaven forbid a virgin - and finding that special life-long-guaranteed lover, is the major plot point in the entire novel. This was published in 2015, so this drenching in normalised patriarchal behaviour and heteronormality is honestly inexcusable.
So 'The House at the End of Hope Street' turned out to be not as feminist as I remember it, sadly, in my opinion. Oh well. Keep learning and keep moving forward. The take-action-now and you-only-live-once message is still good. So is the wonderful, fantastic premise. Less good is the contrivances for the sake of drama and padding out the "story", and the ghost-seeing-and-interacting plot point, which undermines, or should I say kills (pun unintended), any sense of loss and grief a character might be experiencing. The dead - as ghosts, photos or by other means - are still present and regularly chat with the living, no problem, no meaningful conversation about loss. Even for fantasy, it is a bit much.
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
If you are a woman of any creative disposition - writing, drawing, painting, sewing, dressmaking, acting, singing, liberating and fighting for women's rights, you name it - it is the way of the patriarchal world to turn against you; to make you feel small, trivial, insignificant, inconsequential, and fit only for marriage and babies. To make you doubt yourself constantly. To make you feel lost.
Because whoever heard of creativity in women, they with the little, feeble, fragile, docile, feminine brains, right? If anything, women only know how to destroy - be it men's creativity, but most of all themselves, and each other.
If you are a woman seeking out her own dreams, ambitions and passions, all of which the patriarchy will do anything to stamp out and snuff out, sometimes violently, then you may well get lost at some point in your life. Women are only human, after all. It is, sadly, far easier - and safer - to just give up on the artist within you and indoctrinate yourself to society's limited, frigid and conservative expectations; which is exactly what the patriarchy wants. It's a prison sentence.
But what if lost, destroyed women were to end up at the house at the end of Hope Street? It's a big, pretty, floral lodging house in Cambridge, England, that's invisible to almost everyone else. It's where life lessons and advice from creative women of the past are passed down to the next generation of lodgers. Where there are sweets, biscuits, hot chocolate, and female friendship. And it's where the deepest desires of the hearts of its female inhabitants are, once realised with a bit of nudging in the right direction.
And magic.
And ghosts.
(And a secret garden.)
Women, like Alba Ashby, once they stay at the house - no. 11 Hope Street - will be given ninety-nine nights to buckle up the courage to be true to themselves, follow their dreams, face their fears, and turn their lives around for the better. Then they have to leave. The house itself is alive and will help them out along the way. As will the eighty-two-year-old landlady, Peggy Abbot.
Ah, 'The House at the End of Hope Street' - what a nice surprise you turned out to be. You are a treasure novel to be found in a pale pink clam - a cloudy, moonlike pearl - under the blue sea. Or a rare azalea at the end of a gorgeous, bright yet understated garden; with ivy, vines and weeds growing in the right places. An enchanting, pleasant chick lit, if it can be called that. What it definitely can be called is every bibliophile's - and creative and disenfranchised lady's - dream, revelation, and wake up call.
Alba is a nineteen-year-old PHD-and-MPhil history dropout with her whole life ahead of her, but she feels it is already over. Her family life is a mess, and half of her living relatives are awful, elitist people. She also possesses a power to see colours where others cannot, particularly the colours of people's emotions. She knows that a lot of people are keeping secrets from her, but has not the resolve and self-confidence to demand honest answers. She also occasionally talks to ghosts.
At the house in Hope Street, Alba will find that there are people out there who love her, and who want to see her succeed in life. She absolutely loves books, and could it be she wants to write one herself - fiction, not just facts - as well as song lyrics? She's lonely and self-conscious. She needs to be assertive and take charge, and do what she really wants to without worrying about what others think of her. Then there's her sexuality...
Alba Ashby is living proof that a privileged life/upbringing is neither the perfect, nor healthy, nor freeing life it is made out to be.
But 'The House at the End of Hope Street' is not only about Alba, oh no. Also at the house are the inner and outer turmoils of the living woman characters (the dead have had their chance at life, and have moved on, but will help out the breathing) of Peggy, Carmen Viera the voluptuous singer from Bragança, and Greer the nearly-forty-year-old struggling and grieving actress with a love of clothes. There are also the non-residents, like Zoe the librarian, and even some men. Everyone is well developed, and I rooted for most of them to work through their issues and have a happily ever after, as their true, fascinating selves.
'The House at the End of Hope Street' is a wonderful book with a great premise that's executed much better than I could have anticipated. It contains one of the sweetest, most darling swan songs I've ever read. I genuinely didn't expect some of the twists, though I really should have, and I could read it over and over again and discover further insights, foreshadowings, and meaningful passages each time.
It's not perfect; it's a bit messy (example: the friendship between Alba, Carmen and Greer, the trio of women residents, could have been developed a lot better, and not so slowly; they are very much involved in their own individual lives to struggle through and deal with), but then, women are messy. Human beings are messy. We are all complicated creatures.
(The potency of Alba's powers is pretty inconsistent and disappears at convenient moments, too.)
All those literary references! They have meaning behind them; they are in the story for a reason. They add subtext and hope to the narrative. It's a subtle and quaint element, plus a nerd mine for a book lover like me in this mystical dreamland!
Menna van Praag's masterpiece can help anyone, not only creative persons, dealing with depression and an existential crisis. She is an author to look out for.
'The House at the End of Hope Street' - Quietly charming, yet loud and proud in its content. Unpretentious, but nonetheless important. And hugely enjoyable. Its characters are complex, lovable, colourful and distinct.
It's to be read by all women of every generation. It's to be visited by every woman of her generation, for unfortunately in this world she'll never be short of issues, confusion, frustrations, and sorrow.
Final Score: 4.5/5
Wednesday, 2 October 2019
Book Review - 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass' by Lewis Carroll
Such imagination, creativity, inventiveness, cleverness, sweetness, silliness, and nonsense. And poetry.
Cats, rabbits, mice, birds, lizards, fish, a giant puppy, mushrooms (heh), Queens, a Duchess, cards, chess, a Gryphon, hedgehogs, flamingos, knights, a lion and a unicorn, eggs, Humpty Dumpty, tea, jam, bread and butter, bread and butterflies! Every wonderful thing a child can love is here!
'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass' are both to be read as a child, then as a child again, then as an adult reading through the eyes of a child. Children can accept and appreciate, but above all enjoy, nonsense; and so can adults with an open mind and a childlike sense of wonder and whimsy that they still keep locked up in their heart of hearts. Their "muchness" never lost.
That and the newfound, adult knowledge that the real world is rather full of as much nonsense as any dream world. At least in dreams and wonder we are in control and can change the rules as we see fit no trouble, no fuss.
Little Alice herself is a very intelligent, inquisitive, thoughtful, and patient yet nonetheless frustrated child, curious and wondering about the strict, constrained Victorian life around her. She is full of amusing musings, and likes to play by her own rules and logic back home. In Wonderland this is continuously tested, in her role as the only sane, sensible person - she, only a little girl - in a world with no structure, and no rules, but constantly made up and changing ones, each more nonsensical than the last. Dreams and reality collide for this child, who grows curiouser and curiouser the older she gets, hopefully never losing her innocence, and sense of muchness.
Therefore she will always understand everything.
Such as even when winning a game of chess, and becoming queen, it's not all it's cracked up to be; the adult concepts of "power", prosperity and order are ultimately meaningless and fleeting in of themselves.
Just go read 'Alice in Wonderland' in its entirety if you somehow haven't yet. Books with some pictures in it can be as rewarding and insightful as books with no pictures. It is everything except prosaic.
Read it again and again, and appreciate it far more each time.
For Alice, and Wonderland, are childhood - desperate to be carried over into adulthood, and understood.
Final Score: 4/5
Cats, rabbits, mice, birds, lizards, fish, a giant puppy, mushrooms (heh), Queens, a Duchess, cards, chess, a Gryphon, hedgehogs, flamingos, knights, a lion and a unicorn, eggs, Humpty Dumpty, tea, jam, bread and butter, bread and butterflies! Every wonderful thing a child can love is here!
'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass' are both to be read as a child, then as a child again, then as an adult reading through the eyes of a child. Children can accept and appreciate, but above all enjoy, nonsense; and so can adults with an open mind and a childlike sense of wonder and whimsy that they still keep locked up in their heart of hearts. Their "muchness" never lost.
That and the newfound, adult knowledge that the real world is rather full of as much nonsense as any dream world. At least in dreams and wonder we are in control and can change the rules as we see fit no trouble, no fuss.
Little Alice herself is a very intelligent, inquisitive, thoughtful, and patient yet nonetheless frustrated child, curious and wondering about the strict, constrained Victorian life around her. She is full of amusing musings, and likes to play by her own rules and logic back home. In Wonderland this is continuously tested, in her role as the only sane, sensible person - she, only a little girl - in a world with no structure, and no rules, but constantly made up and changing ones, each more nonsensical than the last. Dreams and reality collide for this child, who grows curiouser and curiouser the older she gets, hopefully never losing her innocence, and sense of muchness.
Therefore she will always understand everything.
Such as even when winning a game of chess, and becoming queen, it's not all it's cracked up to be; the adult concepts of "power", prosperity and order are ultimately meaningless and fleeting in of themselves.
Just go read 'Alice in Wonderland' in its entirety if you somehow haven't yet. Books with some pictures in it can be as rewarding and insightful as books with no pictures. It is everything except prosaic.
Read it again and again, and appreciate it far more each time.
For Alice, and Wonderland, are childhood - desperate to be carried over into adulthood, and understood.
Final Score: 4/5
Tuesday, 1 October 2019
Autumn Flower
Ceres stunning. Reminds you of a hair colour of a character from a 'My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic' spinoff series, doesn't it?
Funny story, I came across this on the day my bus driver didn't stop where I wanted him to. This cheered me up on my subsequent long walk home. Every cloud has an orange lining.
It's a shame it's not bountiful where I live.
2019 Calendar Art - October
Dragon Witches, by Nene Thomas:
Autumn Mist
Ah, Halloween. This picture can tell a thousand stories. Love October.
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