So, classes!
I know I said I was now okay with moving on from Cal, but the more time I spend here, the less I want to leave. Like, all my professors this semester are people you wouldn't find anywhere else, and I love them. My first professor (because Cal, for some inexplicable reason, starts on the Thursday before a three-day weekend), for The World of the Celts, for example, wore a t-shirt that said "Throat Punch Thursday," and (playfully, I hope?) threatened us with such if we came up with unsatisfactory answers as to why we should never ever cite Wikipedia on a paper. I got the impression that she was doing the whole "scare 'em straight" thing for the first day, an opinion which mostly seems to have been borne out by the evidence. Like, she definitely has the feeling of not taking anybody's shit, but I don't think that she's *quite* as much of a hardass as she says. Which is funny, considering that this is the exact same reaction I had to Professor Scary from a couple of semesters ago, whom she turns out to be married to! He came in to give a guest lecture on the following Tuesday, which only reinforced my idea that they're perfect for each other.
After Celt Intro (because The World of the Celts is way too much of a mouthful, and Intro is essentially what this class is), I have a wee bit of a break (which, I've since determined, is exactly long enough to grab a Starbucks mocha and feverishly review a vocab and/or case endings list), I have Elementary Latin, which is entirely to blame for my absence this past week. Like, learning a language is always fairly intense, and doubly so when it's as complicated as Latin, but I'm fully willing to accept that I'm insane for putting myself through this. At least three or four (but occasionally as many as six) hours of homework a night, four days a week, for sixteen weeks. Hoo boy. At least it's a fascinating subject! And the professor (who's actually a GSI) is kind of adorkable, in an earnest, cheerful, slightly worried, bow-tie-wearing way. Our class started out with about fifteen people, but has since dropped to ten or twelve. Which is the perfect size, really, because each class is only an hour long, so we're pretty busy as it is. In addition, there's a quiz every day (which I gather is fairly standard for language classes), but I'm actually kind of glad for this - it really makes me work, when otherwise I'd be tempted to pull a Brilliant But Lazy and slack off. This definitely shouldn't be taken as an indication that I find the subject boring and/or useless, though - it's my favorite kind of difficult academic work, where there are rules and systems and I feel like I actually understand things if I put in the requisite time and effort to really learn them. It's just that my natural inclination to browse tumblr and/or talk to you guys on LJ has a tendency to override the part of my brain that's trying to turn me into a responsible adult.
And that's it for Thursday! Most of the rest of the day was spent scouring the various used bookstores for Celt Intro books, since the professor doesn't trust the bookstore, but still wanted us to have everything by the following Tuesday, bleh. I only found one out of, like, five, and that one we won't need until much later in the semester, but one of the bookstores is right across the street from Crossroads, an awesome thrift shop that has fueled the majority of my regirlification, so I came out with two new-to-me, albeit unplanned, skirts. And I've decided that the only kind of skirts I really like are ones with pockets, since I just can't handle not having a place to stick my phone, spare change, ID card, etc., so this made it more of a quest than it otherwise might be, but I made out pretty well - one longish and very soft black skirt (with pockets), and one rather short tweed skirt with plenty of pockets, and largeish brown buttons that look vaguely like loaves of bread down the front.
Unlike last semester, I actually have a full Friday schedule this time around, so I had to get up at around the same time for my Romantics class. As I think I've mentioned, I don't strictly need to take this class, as my English major is technically completed, but, c'mon, Romantics! We're even reading Persuasion, and I'm eager to see why the professor chose this one, and not one of the more obvious choices, like Northanger Abbey or Sense and Sensibility. Which I realize sounds kind of snide, but I mean it 100% sincerely - I can definitely see how a case for including Persuasion in a class on the Romantics can be made, but I want to get the professor's thoughts on it. Speaking of which, sadly, my Romantics professor is probably my least favorite of the bunch, this time around. He's not bad per se, just slightly dull and moves through slides WAY too fast, so I guess it's a pretty good semester if these are the only things I have to worry about, but, well, #FirstWorldProblems and all that.
On Fridays, I have a three-hour break between classes, so I mostly noodled around in the library until it was time for Early Irish Lit, which is fantastic. For one thing, it's my favorite period of Irish literature - I'll miss Yeats, of course, but I can definitely do without Joyce, and this will be, like, my fourth time through the Táin, and there's so much wonderfully crazy mythology, I can't help but love it. In addition, the professor reminds me of my favorite uncle - balding, vaguely unkempt, dresses for Oxford weather instead of Berkeley weather, somewhat introverted/shy, absolutely enthralled by his obscure subject of choice (including the politics of the field), and eager to get everybody else to love it, too. And finally, there's the people. This is another small class (again, about ten people, give or take), most of them Celtic Studies regulars. The Celtic Studies department is TINY (only three declared majors, I think, with another two undeclared, four or five minors [myself included], and seven professors [six regular, and one visiting Fullbright scholar whom we're all very proud of]), so we all pretty much know each other. The best way I can think of to describe the department is: it would fit right in at Blackstock, and, indeed, sometimes seems like it came from Blackstock - small and insular and very family-like (in a slightly dysfunctional way), and widely considered to be nuts. Like, maybe half of the people in Early Irish Lit are associated with the department in some way, and I'm fairly sure the others (a mixed bunch - an English major, but then some, like, molecular biology and physics and music majors, probably taking it for a breadth requirement) were weirded out on the first day, because A) we all knew each other, B) it's entirely normal to drop into Welsh or Irish (or Old Irish) for a phrase or two, and we have the kind of in-jokes that make us seem slightly deranged. So, if you can't tell, I love these guys to death and I missed them like crazy last semester, when I was doing all English classes.
Early Sunday, I got an email from my mom saying that she'd finally had to put our dog, Moocher, to sleep on Friday. Moocher (standard disclaimer: he came with the name) was 19, and we bought him from a breeder when I was 11 and he was 7 (only two years younger than P!). Although he'd had asthma as a puppy and tended to wheeze (or, as we said, snargle), he was remarkably healthy his entire life - we had two Chocolate Scares, one an entire bar of extra-dark, and he came through both just fine. They always loved him at the vet's - the joke was always that they don't make 'em like that any more, because he was just about the sturdiest little guy you can imagine. Even at the very end, he wasn't sick or anything, just really, really old. He was deaf, blind, and fairly incontinent, but seemed pretty happy to toddle about (although his hips were kind of on the way out), and he knew where most things were. But eventually, he stopped eating and couldn't really move, so my mom figured that he was telling her that he was ready to go. He was mostly her dog, anyway; we got him in the rocky years immediately following my parents' divorce, and it did her a lot of good to have him around. She always said that his snargling helped her get to sleep, and she always loved taking him to Fall Fun Days at the breeder's, where he and a bunch of other Norwich terriers competed in obstacle courses and whatnot, which he even won a few times. We always had a lot of nicknames for him (because, really, "Moocher"?), including Frodo, Samwise (the Brave), Rollo, Fuzzybug, Caterpillar, Dog of Doom (the title of a home movie starring him, written and directed by my mom, that involved him knocking over a Playmobil village to dramatic narration from P and me), the Man of the House, Best Darn Dog in the Whole Wide World (which even had a little song to accompany it), and Bowling-Ball Butt. He was the perfect size to pick up and tuck under one's arm, but he wasn't at all like a chihuahua or any sort of teacup breed - he knew that he was exactly the right size for ratting, which was what he was bred for. The lady who ran the Norwich/Norfolk breeding/rescue/adoption center where we got him always said that the Kennel Club motto for the Norwich was "Gaiety and Courage," which was a perfect description of Moocher. He sometimes got annoyed and snapped at the cats when they teased him (he hated it when they would all stampede for dinner and they couldn't wait for him to get out of their way, so they just jumped over, or slipped under, him), but overall, he got along with everyone, both human and animal. He was never afraid of my grandma's or the M family's dogs (German Shepherds and pit bulls, each of which Moocher could easily walk under without even his ears brushing their bellies), and knew how to show them who's boss. He never bit anybody or anything in his whole life, though. He was superbly trained by the elderly couple who had him before us, and I'm fairly sure that he considered it a point of pride to come, sit, stay, and understand "no," although he did earn his name through begging. He never really liked playing fetch with a stick, but we had an equivalent game, rat man, which he loved. Rat man was basically just throwing a vaguely four-legged squeaky toy (that he promptly eviscerated, so it ceased to be squeaky, but still) for him to chase down, worry to "death," and then proudly bring back his "kill" for praise before having it thrown again, repeat, repeat.
Like when Cassie died, I'm going to do a bit of a photospam in memoriam, but I'll hide it under a spoiler cut, for those of you who don't want to wait for six zillion pictures of my dog to load.


The buttstache.

Meat, red from the bone!


Loaf o' dog.

He used to sleep on my mom's bed, and had the most comforting snore.




The other dog is the M family's adorkable pit bull, Buster, who was always a little afraid of Moocher.


Newly shorn, and cuddling on his Blankie.






Sunday was just generally an un-awesome day, though. In addition to the sad news about Moocher, I also had an big fight with H, and...I kind of feel like this friendship is on its way out, or at least is in serious trouble. I always feel all apprehensive and "oh no I don't want to do this" whenever we make plans to hang out, and while I usually end up having fun, there's also a constant undercurrent of feeling obligated to have fun more than actually having fun. Which is all kinds of weird, because I've known her since I was eight or nine, but she's changed so much lately. To make a long story short, it's recently become abundantly evident to me, and to the rest of our circle, that she has a substance abuse problem, and the way she's handled this revelation really kind of freaked me out. There are so many conflicting stories about various things she's done or not done flying around, I honestly don't know who to believe any more. The thing is, this wouldn't be the first time she's lied to me about something important, so I kind of feel like our trust has been eroding for a while now. And my mom, a pharmacist who deals with addiction problems every day, and J, who has a strong family history of substance abuse problems, both say that she displays a lot of the classic signs, including the very strong possibility that even she doesn't even know when she's lying any more. And some of the things she's said definitely don't add up and/or just sounded fishy. Case in point, on Sunday she called me and asked me to sound out J as to why he had cut off all contact with her, after he'd told her multiple times to back off, that he couldn't both deal with her situation and keep himself psychologically stable. So I had a long talk with him (the most recent of a series of long talks about H and C, really), the result of which was that I called H back, and conveyed J's continued wish for her to not contact him. After some thought, I added my own request that she not talk to me about this whole clusterfuck of a situation. I mean, I'm kind of masochistically glad that she's confiding in me and all, but J made the very good point that, by this point, H is basically using me to enable her, because I'm sort of constitutionally incapable of doing things like saying no, or even expressing straight-up disapproval/opposition, and that I was creating the false impression that everything is okay, when it really isn't. But what really cemented my opinion was that, when I requested this of her, she went through EXACTLY the steps that J said she would to try and keep me around, and those steps are starting to feel a lot like emotional blackmail - saying things like "I need you, you're my best friend," "why don't you trust me?" and "I would be at your side in an instant if you needed me," stuff like that. And this was especially spooky because I'm pretty sure I caught her in a straight-up lie, but I don't even know if she knew she was lying. She says that she's been clean since July, hasn't had any cravings, and has even cut off her supply. I may not be a toxicologist or anything, but even I know that long-term substance abuse (and I'm starting to think that a part of this goes all the way back to high school) isn't gotten over just like that. Basically, I'm worried that she isn't dealing with her issues appropriately (or at all, even), and that I'm hindering rather than helping by, essentially, petting her hair and cooing and telling her that everything will be alright.
The ensuing week (which is now last week, ugh) was mostly a frenzied bout of Latin studying, with a mug of tea every night (courtesy of 3.0's new stove-less kettle, which is fantastic and now I want one), and occasional breaks for less heavyweight stuff like early Irish poetry and Mary Wollstonecraft's early feminism. The thing is, with the exception of Latin, I'm fairly sure that I'm just going more in-depth on stuff I'm already familiar with this semester. This turns out to be a great setup, because I can devote most of my time to the aforementioned Latin (seriously, I used up about 150 notecards in the space of four days), and the other stuff feels more like pleasure reading. Rigorous and academic pleasure reading, of course, but seriously, Latin is giving me a whole new definition of "difficult." You guys are probably going to hear me whining about it a fair bit, so I'll probably put it under a separate cut, because 99% of it is going to boil down to "Latin is haaaaaard," interspersed with roughly proportional amounts of squee over the same.
This week's meme is courtesy of
mauvais_pli, an ASOIAF House meme. Short and silly, though, because I think I exhausted this week's eloquence ration on my classes and NotW.
I know I said I was now okay with moving on from Cal, but the more time I spend here, the less I want to leave. Like, all my professors this semester are people you wouldn't find anywhere else, and I love them. My first professor (because Cal, for some inexplicable reason, starts on the Thursday before a three-day weekend), for The World of the Celts, for example, wore a t-shirt that said "Throat Punch Thursday," and (playfully, I hope?) threatened us with such if we came up with unsatisfactory answers as to why we should never ever cite Wikipedia on a paper. I got the impression that she was doing the whole "scare 'em straight" thing for the first day, an opinion which mostly seems to have been borne out by the evidence. Like, she definitely has the feeling of not taking anybody's shit, but I don't think that she's *quite* as much of a hardass as she says. Which is funny, considering that this is the exact same reaction I had to Professor Scary from a couple of semesters ago, whom she turns out to be married to! He came in to give a guest lecture on the following Tuesday, which only reinforced my idea that they're perfect for each other.
After Celt Intro (because The World of the Celts is way too much of a mouthful, and Intro is essentially what this class is), I have a wee bit of a break (which, I've since determined, is exactly long enough to grab a Starbucks mocha and feverishly review a vocab and/or case endings list), I have Elementary Latin, which is entirely to blame for my absence this past week. Like, learning a language is always fairly intense, and doubly so when it's as complicated as Latin, but I'm fully willing to accept that I'm insane for putting myself through this. At least three or four (but occasionally as many as six) hours of homework a night, four days a week, for sixteen weeks. Hoo boy. At least it's a fascinating subject! And the professor (who's actually a GSI) is kind of adorkable, in an earnest, cheerful, slightly worried, bow-tie-wearing way. Our class started out with about fifteen people, but has since dropped to ten or twelve. Which is the perfect size, really, because each class is only an hour long, so we're pretty busy as it is. In addition, there's a quiz every day (which I gather is fairly standard for language classes), but I'm actually kind of glad for this - it really makes me work, when otherwise I'd be tempted to pull a Brilliant But Lazy and slack off. This definitely shouldn't be taken as an indication that I find the subject boring and/or useless, though - it's my favorite kind of difficult academic work, where there are rules and systems and I feel like I actually understand things if I put in the requisite time and effort to really learn them. It's just that my natural inclination to browse tumblr and/or talk to you guys on LJ has a tendency to override the part of my brain that's trying to turn me into a responsible adult.
And that's it for Thursday! Most of the rest of the day was spent scouring the various used bookstores for Celt Intro books, since the professor doesn't trust the bookstore, but still wanted us to have everything by the following Tuesday, bleh. I only found one out of, like, five, and that one we won't need until much later in the semester, but one of the bookstores is right across the street from Crossroads, an awesome thrift shop that has fueled the majority of my regirlification, so I came out with two new-to-me, albeit unplanned, skirts. And I've decided that the only kind of skirts I really like are ones with pockets, since I just can't handle not having a place to stick my phone, spare change, ID card, etc., so this made it more of a quest than it otherwise might be, but I made out pretty well - one longish and very soft black skirt (with pockets), and one rather short tweed skirt with plenty of pockets, and largeish brown buttons that look vaguely like loaves of bread down the front.
Unlike last semester, I actually have a full Friday schedule this time around, so I had to get up at around the same time for my Romantics class. As I think I've mentioned, I don't strictly need to take this class, as my English major is technically completed, but, c'mon, Romantics! We're even reading Persuasion, and I'm eager to see why the professor chose this one, and not one of the more obvious choices, like Northanger Abbey or Sense and Sensibility. Which I realize sounds kind of snide, but I mean it 100% sincerely - I can definitely see how a case for including Persuasion in a class on the Romantics can be made, but I want to get the professor's thoughts on it. Speaking of which, sadly, my Romantics professor is probably my least favorite of the bunch, this time around. He's not bad per se, just slightly dull and moves through slides WAY too fast, so I guess it's a pretty good semester if these are the only things I have to worry about, but, well, #FirstWorldProblems and all that.
On Fridays, I have a three-hour break between classes, so I mostly noodled around in the library until it was time for Early Irish Lit, which is fantastic. For one thing, it's my favorite period of Irish literature - I'll miss Yeats, of course, but I can definitely do without Joyce, and this will be, like, my fourth time through the Táin, and there's so much wonderfully crazy mythology, I can't help but love it. In addition, the professor reminds me of my favorite uncle - balding, vaguely unkempt, dresses for Oxford weather instead of Berkeley weather, somewhat introverted/shy, absolutely enthralled by his obscure subject of choice (including the politics of the field), and eager to get everybody else to love it, too. And finally, there's the people. This is another small class (again, about ten people, give or take), most of them Celtic Studies regulars. The Celtic Studies department is TINY (only three declared majors, I think, with another two undeclared, four or five minors [myself included], and seven professors [six regular, and one visiting Fullbright scholar whom we're all very proud of]), so we all pretty much know each other. The best way I can think of to describe the department is: it would fit right in at Blackstock, and, indeed, sometimes seems like it came from Blackstock - small and insular and very family-like (in a slightly dysfunctional way), and widely considered to be nuts. Like, maybe half of the people in Early Irish Lit are associated with the department in some way, and I'm fairly sure the others (a mixed bunch - an English major, but then some, like, molecular biology and physics and music majors, probably taking it for a breadth requirement) were weirded out on the first day, because A) we all knew each other, B) it's entirely normal to drop into Welsh or Irish (or Old Irish) for a phrase or two, and we have the kind of in-jokes that make us seem slightly deranged. So, if you can't tell, I love these guys to death and I missed them like crazy last semester, when I was doing all English classes.
Early Sunday, I got an email from my mom saying that she'd finally had to put our dog, Moocher, to sleep on Friday. Moocher (standard disclaimer: he came with the name) was 19, and we bought him from a breeder when I was 11 and he was 7 (only two years younger than P!). Although he'd had asthma as a puppy and tended to wheeze (or, as we said, snargle), he was remarkably healthy his entire life - we had two Chocolate Scares, one an entire bar of extra-dark, and he came through both just fine. They always loved him at the vet's - the joke was always that they don't make 'em like that any more, because he was just about the sturdiest little guy you can imagine. Even at the very end, he wasn't sick or anything, just really, really old. He was deaf, blind, and fairly incontinent, but seemed pretty happy to toddle about (although his hips were kind of on the way out), and he knew where most things were. But eventually, he stopped eating and couldn't really move, so my mom figured that he was telling her that he was ready to go. He was mostly her dog, anyway; we got him in the rocky years immediately following my parents' divorce, and it did her a lot of good to have him around. She always said that his snargling helped her get to sleep, and she always loved taking him to Fall Fun Days at the breeder's, where he and a bunch of other Norwich terriers competed in obstacle courses and whatnot, which he even won a few times. We always had a lot of nicknames for him (because, really, "Moocher"?), including Frodo, Samwise (the Brave), Rollo, Fuzzybug, Caterpillar, Dog of Doom (the title of a home movie starring him, written and directed by my mom, that involved him knocking over a Playmobil village to dramatic narration from P and me), the Man of the House, Best Darn Dog in the Whole Wide World (which even had a little song to accompany it), and Bowling-Ball Butt. He was the perfect size to pick up and tuck under one's arm, but he wasn't at all like a chihuahua or any sort of teacup breed - he knew that he was exactly the right size for ratting, which was what he was bred for. The lady who ran the Norwich/Norfolk breeding/rescue/adoption center where we got him always said that the Kennel Club motto for the Norwich was "Gaiety and Courage," which was a perfect description of Moocher. He sometimes got annoyed and snapped at the cats when they teased him (he hated it when they would all stampede for dinner and they couldn't wait for him to get out of their way, so they just jumped over, or slipped under, him), but overall, he got along with everyone, both human and animal. He was never afraid of my grandma's or the M family's dogs (German Shepherds and pit bulls, each of which Moocher could easily walk under without even his ears brushing their bellies), and knew how to show them who's boss. He never bit anybody or anything in his whole life, though. He was superbly trained by the elderly couple who had him before us, and I'm fairly sure that he considered it a point of pride to come, sit, stay, and understand "no," although he did earn his name through begging. He never really liked playing fetch with a stick, but we had an equivalent game, rat man, which he loved. Rat man was basically just throwing a vaguely four-legged squeaky toy (that he promptly eviscerated, so it ceased to be squeaky, but still) for him to chase down, worry to "death," and then proudly bring back his "kill" for praise before having it thrown again, repeat, repeat.
Like when Cassie died, I'm going to do a bit of a photospam in memoriam, but I'll hide it under a spoiler cut, for those of you who don't want to wait for six zillion pictures of my dog to load.


The buttstache.

Meat, red from the bone!


Loaf o' dog.

He used to sleep on my mom's bed, and had the most comforting snore.




The other dog is the M family's adorkable pit bull, Buster, who was always a little afraid of Moocher.


Newly shorn, and cuddling on his Blankie.






Sunday was just generally an un-awesome day, though. In addition to the sad news about Moocher, I also had an big fight with H, and...I kind of feel like this friendship is on its way out, or at least is in serious trouble. I always feel all apprehensive and "oh no I don't want to do this" whenever we make plans to hang out, and while I usually end up having fun, there's also a constant undercurrent of feeling obligated to have fun more than actually having fun. Which is all kinds of weird, because I've known her since I was eight or nine, but she's changed so much lately. To make a long story short, it's recently become abundantly evident to me, and to the rest of our circle, that she has a substance abuse problem, and the way she's handled this revelation really kind of freaked me out. There are so many conflicting stories about various things she's done or not done flying around, I honestly don't know who to believe any more. The thing is, this wouldn't be the first time she's lied to me about something important, so I kind of feel like our trust has been eroding for a while now. And my mom, a pharmacist who deals with addiction problems every day, and J, who has a strong family history of substance abuse problems, both say that she displays a lot of the classic signs, including the very strong possibility that even she doesn't even know when she's lying any more. And some of the things she's said definitely don't add up and/or just sounded fishy. Case in point, on Sunday she called me and asked me to sound out J as to why he had cut off all contact with her, after he'd told her multiple times to back off, that he couldn't both deal with her situation and keep himself psychologically stable. So I had a long talk with him (the most recent of a series of long talks about H and C, really), the result of which was that I called H back, and conveyed J's continued wish for her to not contact him. After some thought, I added my own request that she not talk to me about this whole clusterfuck of a situation. I mean, I'm kind of masochistically glad that she's confiding in me and all, but J made the very good point that, by this point, H is basically using me to enable her, because I'm sort of constitutionally incapable of doing things like saying no, or even expressing straight-up disapproval/opposition, and that I was creating the false impression that everything is okay, when it really isn't. But what really cemented my opinion was that, when I requested this of her, she went through EXACTLY the steps that J said she would to try and keep me around, and those steps are starting to feel a lot like emotional blackmail - saying things like "I need you, you're my best friend," "why don't you trust me?" and "I would be at your side in an instant if you needed me," stuff like that. And this was especially spooky because I'm pretty sure I caught her in a straight-up lie, but I don't even know if she knew she was lying. She says that she's been clean since July, hasn't had any cravings, and has even cut off her supply. I may not be a toxicologist or anything, but even I know that long-term substance abuse (and I'm starting to think that a part of this goes all the way back to high school) isn't gotten over just like that. Basically, I'm worried that she isn't dealing with her issues appropriately (or at all, even), and that I'm hindering rather than helping by, essentially, petting her hair and cooing and telling her that everything will be alright.
The ensuing week (which is now last week, ugh) was mostly a frenzied bout of Latin studying, with a mug of tea every night (courtesy of 3.0's new stove-less kettle, which is fantastic and now I want one), and occasional breaks for less heavyweight stuff like early Irish poetry and Mary Wollstonecraft's early feminism. The thing is, with the exception of Latin, I'm fairly sure that I'm just going more in-depth on stuff I'm already familiar with this semester. This turns out to be a great setup, because I can devote most of my time to the aforementioned Latin (seriously, I used up about 150 notecards in the space of four days), and the other stuff feels more like pleasure reading. Rigorous and academic pleasure reading, of course, but seriously, Latin is giving me a whole new definition of "difficult." You guys are probably going to hear me whining about it a fair bit, so I'll probably put it under a separate cut, because 99% of it is going to boil down to "Latin is haaaaaard," interspersed with roughly proportional amounts of squee over the same.
In Nerd News, I finally finished The Name of the Wind, which J gave me for Christmas in, um, 2011, I think. XD It's taken me awhile, clearly - it's the first (new) doorstopper epic fantasy (which is, really, a genre all by itself) I've read since ASOIAF, but I've always been an epic fantasy kind of girl, so I felt right at home. In fact, "I felt right at home" would be a pretty good way of describing NotW's overall appeal for me - Patrick Rothfuss clearly is working in the Tolkienian tradition, and has done his homework, so it was both the comfort of the familiar and the appeal of interesting characters and a fully-realized world (more on this in a mo'). Some aspects were definitely boilerplate elements that every fantasy has to have - the black-cloaked supernatural Minions of Evil, the creepy spider dealies, the Big Bad half-shrouded in legend who strikes like lighting and then disappears until the climax, and the young boy who thirsts for adventure are all as classic as you can get. In a slightly more modern vein, the magic school, complete with massive library (with its own secret[s]), teachers (one possibly insane but definitely a genius, one rough but affectionate, one who's got it out for Our Hero, and one stern but fair), students (attractive and clever member of the opposite sex, rich blonde jerk [BTW, I was impressed that Pat actually went ahead and pretty much named his one Jackass], and two good friends), are also pleasantly familiar. And I say "pleasantly familiar," which I know sounds a little condescending, but really, one of the quickest ways for a writer to win my heart is to take this trope or that paradigm and do something, not radically new, but build off the source material to sort of evolve the subject into something new. The way Ankh-Morpork is mostly built on old bits of Ankh-Morpork, you know?
First and foremost, let me gush a little about the worldbuilding. Seriously, I haven't found a world so complete since Middle-Earth, and I don't say that lightly. Most high fantasy authors are content to leave currency at gold/silver/copper "coins" or "crowns," and language at "Common" plus one language each for each non-human race, and maybe four or five languages from Forn Parts, which manifest as a phrase or two from each, or maybe just someone who speaks with a heavy accent, no possessive contractions, and puts their verbs in the wrong form. But no, Pat Rothfuss not only clearly has a complete economic policy and system of currency outlined for each country, but he's actually thought up *rules* for his languages. In fact, the moment when I really fell in love with NotW was when Kvothe was having a conversation with Wilem about idioms, and it came up that there's a Cealdish phrase that means "don't let it make you crazy," but literally translates as "don't put a spoon in your eye over it." Just little details like these, "cats of queen Beruthiel" details, as
hamsterwoman calls them, that make a secondary world seem fully real, and the people who live in it similarly more three-dimensional as a consequence (which is just about the most awkward sentence I've ever written, but w/e). Songs, poems, and music in general is an essential part of this (which I must have known sort of subconsciously while reading Tolkien, of course, but realized consciously while reading Heralds of Valdemar), and as this series is all about songs and music and such, it isn't a surprise that this area is just as well-rounded as the rest. It's sadly easy to OD on cryptic riddle-poetry (which I've loved since my Redwall days, but have seen done wrong too many times since to be immediately enthusiastic about it), infodump via ballad, and all the other music-related tropes, but NotW manages to pull them all off more or less perfectly.
Speaking of stuff it's easy to OD on/do wrong, self-referential awareness of the genre can often come off as an attempt to stave off accusations of pompousness and/or pretentiousness, but... Let's just say that I recommended this book to my mom, who (mostly) shares my literary tastes, and, after looking at the cover and title, our conversation went like this:
Mom: It looks pretentious.
Me: ...Yeah, but it's the good kind of pretentious.
Mom: >.>
Me: :D
For me, "but he's doing it on purpose!" is almost never an adequate excuse for boringness/purple prose/overly stylized craziness/etc. (see: why I never really took to the Khaavren Romances), but here's it's rare enough and/or unobtrusive enough that it didn't break me. Like, I could roll my eyes half-fondly and half-exasperatedly at Kvothe's rhapsodic description of Denna (I mean, really, "Once, I sang colors to a blind man. Seven hours I played, but at the end he said he saw them, green and red and gold. That, I think, was easier than this. Trying to make you understand her with nothing more than words. You have never seen her, never heard her voice. You cannot know"? Beautiful phrasing and descriptions, but really?) but it never stretched my willing suspension of disbelief into fully-exasperated "oh, puh-leez" territory; he always leavened it with enough genuinely great and/or minimalistic writing to sustain me through the "oh, yeah, he's describing the thoughts and reactions of a teenage boy" phases.
The magic university bit, as I said before, I found formulaic but enjoyable. In-universe legends in their own time are fun in controlled doses (see below on Kvothe alone vs. Kvothe in a group), but I admit it was fun, on an id-satisfying level, to watch him build up his own legend like that. Because, let's face it, another of the traditions Patrick Rothfuss is working off of is the "Harry lives in all of us" idea of the ordinary kid who makes it big through his longtime love and understanding of dramatic/narrative convention. I mean, I know I can't have been the only geeky preteen/teenager who super-seekritly dreamed of having Grand Adventures and saving the day through my extensive knowledge of fantasy novels.
If I had to pick a quibble, it would be that I got the sense that the nakama was transitive, not permanent. I'm coming to find that a nakama isn't so much an anti-dealbreaker as a required element. And the Golden Trio was one of my formative nakamas (which is one of the reasons why I don't really ship any of them with each other, or with anyone else - the Trio comes first!), so I guess I was comparing Kvothe and Simmon and Wilem to Harry and Ron and Hermione. And maybe it's just because I haven't known them as long, but I'm having a harder time falling in love with them. I crack!ship Kvothe and Simmon for reasons far beyond my comprehension (which may have something to do with, again, for no reason I can adequately describe, Simmon/Ambrose appeals to me in a Laurence/Rankin kind of way), but I have the feeling that Kvothe is going off to have solo adventures while Wil and Simm stay at the University, and honestly, I like Kvothe a lot better in a group than on his own. I mean, it's no secret that I have Types. My favorite, of course, is generally the quiet, unassuming, supportive, geeky and largely kindhearted type who turns out to be a colossal badass and/or genius (see: Giles, Gregor, Faramir), but they tend to be supporting characters. But I've noticed that out of the *official* Hero types, for the past few months, I've been almost entirely reading/watching variations on the following three themes: painfully earnest, fish-out-of-water dorkface; scrappy, snarky underdog; and neurotic genius with a god/hero complex. Especially that last one - I've just read, like, three Vorkosigans in a row, and Horatio Hornblower oscillates between neurotic genius and fish-out-of-water, so maybe I'm just ODing on this particular Type, but I definitely felt like Kvothe was at his best when he had other people to perform for. Otherwise, he tends to sink into melodrama, which is not my favorite thing to read.
Denna/Dianna/Dinah got exponentially more interesting in the last few chapters of the book. I was worried that Kvothe was picking up, oh, Miles' I think it was? tendency to put women he loves up on pedestals, and making them much more interesting (at least, as we see them, since we have only his eyes to see them through) as a result. And I'm still not "OMG KVOTHE/DENNA OTP!!!", but I don't dislike her, and I'm interested to see where she's going. As far as the other women go: I want to like Fela more than I do (she feels, at her core, like a damsel in distress, and while the damsel is another classic trope, it's one I could stand to see the back of, and I hope this gets subverted in the next book), Devi is awesome and I hope we get to see much more of her (and not just because, in my head, she looks and feels an awful lot like Toph), and Auri is another one of those boilerplate-but-not-necessarily-bad tropes in action (although I do admit that most of this is potential - I'm just waiting for her to be revealed to be some sort of nonhuman or hybrid, or some crazy powerful Arcanist; if Pat pulls an Aibynn and has her turn out to be nothing but pale and feral and slightly nuts, I'm going to be both surprised and really disappointed).
First and foremost, let me gush a little about the worldbuilding. Seriously, I haven't found a world so complete since Middle-Earth, and I don't say that lightly. Most high fantasy authors are content to leave currency at gold/silver/copper "coins" or "crowns," and language at "Common" plus one language each for each non-human race, and maybe four or five languages from Forn Parts, which manifest as a phrase or two from each, or maybe just someone who speaks with a heavy accent, no possessive contractions, and puts their verbs in the wrong form. But no, Pat Rothfuss not only clearly has a complete economic policy and system of currency outlined for each country, but he's actually thought up *rules* for his languages. In fact, the moment when I really fell in love with NotW was when Kvothe was having a conversation with Wilem about idioms, and it came up that there's a Cealdish phrase that means "don't let it make you crazy," but literally translates as "don't put a spoon in your eye over it." Just little details like these, "cats of queen Beruthiel" details, as
Speaking of stuff it's easy to OD on/do wrong, self-referential awareness of the genre can often come off as an attempt to stave off accusations of pompousness and/or pretentiousness, but... Let's just say that I recommended this book to my mom, who (mostly) shares my literary tastes, and, after looking at the cover and title, our conversation went like this:
Mom: It looks pretentious.
Me: ...Yeah, but it's the good kind of pretentious.
Mom: >.>
Me: :D
For me, "but he's doing it on purpose!" is almost never an adequate excuse for boringness/purple prose/overly stylized craziness/etc. (see: why I never really took to the Khaavren Romances), but here's it's rare enough and/or unobtrusive enough that it didn't break me. Like, I could roll my eyes half-fondly and half-exasperatedly at Kvothe's rhapsodic description of Denna (I mean, really, "Once, I sang colors to a blind man. Seven hours I played, but at the end he said he saw them, green and red and gold. That, I think, was easier than this. Trying to make you understand her with nothing more than words. You have never seen her, never heard her voice. You cannot know"? Beautiful phrasing and descriptions, but really?) but it never stretched my willing suspension of disbelief into fully-exasperated "oh, puh-leez" territory; he always leavened it with enough genuinely great and/or minimalistic writing to sustain me through the "oh, yeah, he's describing the thoughts and reactions of a teenage boy" phases.
The magic university bit, as I said before, I found formulaic but enjoyable. In-universe legends in their own time are fun in controlled doses (see below on Kvothe alone vs. Kvothe in a group), but I admit it was fun, on an id-satisfying level, to watch him build up his own legend like that. Because, let's face it, another of the traditions Patrick Rothfuss is working off of is the "Harry lives in all of us" idea of the ordinary kid who makes it big through his longtime love and understanding of dramatic/narrative convention. I mean, I know I can't have been the only geeky preteen/teenager who super-seekritly dreamed of having Grand Adventures and saving the day through my extensive knowledge of fantasy novels.
If I had to pick a quibble, it would be that I got the sense that the nakama was transitive, not permanent. I'm coming to find that a nakama isn't so much an anti-dealbreaker as a required element. And the Golden Trio was one of my formative nakamas (which is one of the reasons why I don't really ship any of them with each other, or with anyone else - the Trio comes first!), so I guess I was comparing Kvothe and Simmon and Wilem to Harry and Ron and Hermione. And maybe it's just because I haven't known them as long, but I'm having a harder time falling in love with them. I crack!ship Kvothe and Simmon for reasons far beyond my comprehension (which may have something to do with, again, for no reason I can adequately describe, Simmon/Ambrose appeals to me in a Laurence/Rankin kind of way), but I have the feeling that Kvothe is going off to have solo adventures while Wil and Simm stay at the University, and honestly, I like Kvothe a lot better in a group than on his own. I mean, it's no secret that I have Types. My favorite, of course, is generally the quiet, unassuming, supportive, geeky and largely kindhearted type who turns out to be a colossal badass and/or genius (see: Giles, Gregor, Faramir), but they tend to be supporting characters. But I've noticed that out of the *official* Hero types, for the past few months, I've been almost entirely reading/watching variations on the following three themes: painfully earnest, fish-out-of-water dorkface; scrappy, snarky underdog; and neurotic genius with a god/hero complex. Especially that last one - I've just read, like, three Vorkosigans in a row, and Horatio Hornblower oscillates between neurotic genius and fish-out-of-water, so maybe I'm just ODing on this particular Type, but I definitely felt like Kvothe was at his best when he had other people to perform for. Otherwise, he tends to sink into melodrama, which is not my favorite thing to read.
Denna/Dianna/Dinah got exponentially more interesting in the last few chapters of the book. I was worried that Kvothe was picking up, oh, Miles' I think it was? tendency to put women he loves up on pedestals, and making them much more interesting (at least, as we see them, since we have only his eyes to see them through) as a result. And I'm still not "OMG KVOTHE/DENNA OTP!!!", but I don't dislike her, and I'm interested to see where she's going. As far as the other women go: I want to like Fela more than I do (she feels, at her core, like a damsel in distress, and while the damsel is another classic trope, it's one I could stand to see the back of, and I hope this gets subverted in the next book), Devi is awesome and I hope we get to see much more of her (and not just because, in my head, she looks and feels an awful lot like Toph), and Auri is another one of those boilerplate-but-not-necessarily-bad tropes in action (although I do admit that most of this is potential - I'm just waiting for her to be revealed to be some sort of nonhuman or hybrid, or some crazy powerful Arcanist; if Pat pulls an Aibynn and has her turn out to be nothing but pale and feral and slightly nuts, I'm going to be both surprised and really disappointed).
This week's meme is courtesy of
House Coat of Arms: Light tan field, quartered pair of scissors, wet wipes, pen, and book.
House Words: Just In Case. (No, seriously, we've had truefax discussions about this.)
House Words: Just In Case. (No, seriously, we've had truefax discussions about this.)
Meaning behind the Words: We're famously prepared for everything. No, seriously.
House Ideals: Being prepared for anything (of course), prudence, intelligence (we produce and/or house a lot of maesters).
House Location: Oscillates between the hardy North, where we have to be prepared, the Reach (because California), and occasional vacations to the ancestral seat in Dorne.
House Alliances: Tullys, probably, location(s) notwithstanding. We tend to be followers, not leaders, and not very inclined towards warfare at all.
Allegiance during the War of Five Kings: Robb Stark, probably, via the Tullys, but once it became apparent that he was pretty much just lucky, charismatic, and had his heart in the right place, we would have switched to our Reach aspect and joined up with the Tyrells, that being the sensible thing to do. Or just decided to take an extra-long vacation in Dorne, since they've managed to stay out of the whole thing.
Allegiance during the War of Five Kings: Robb Stark, probably, via the Tullys, but once it became apparent that he was pretty much just lucky, charismatic, and had his heart in the right place, we would have switched to our Reach aspect and joined up with the Tyrells, that being the sensible thing to do. Or just decided to take an extra-long vacation in Dorne, since they've managed to stay out of the whole thing.
Strengths: Any kind of mundane annoyance pops up, and we've got you covered. Food spill? Got yer Wet Ones right here. Annoying thread? Here, have a pair of scissors. Bad hair day? Comb to the rescue! Something stuck between your teeth? Do you prefer floss or tweezers? Bored? Here, I brought an extra book (hope you like fantasy and/or sci-fi).
Weaknesses: Absolutely useless on the off chance we're caught without our bag o' usefulness and/or phone.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 04:39 pm (UTC)At least three or four (but occasionally as many as six) hours of homework a night, four days a week, for sixteen weeks
Whoa, that's crazy! No wonder you've had no time for the internet lately! I've only taken one foreign language class at Cal, Italian 3 or 4, I forget which (because I was coming out of 4 years of high school Italian), and it was definitely nothing like that -- in fact, i felt like we weren't learning and doing enough, compared to my high school teacher, who was something like an Italian version of Granny Weatherwax. Possibly that was because of the GSI, who was teaching by virtue of being an Italian native speaker (I assume your adorkable Latin GSI is actually doing grad work in Latin, since it's not like there are native speakers). I definitely hope the work load becomes a little bit more normal there, though that's great to hear you're having fun with the class even at this crazy pace.
Congratulations on the acquiisition of the new skirts, too!
I'm very sorry to hear about Moocher -- he sounds to have been an awesome dog, and have lived a full life surrounded by love and appreciation. (One day my LJ will work properly again and then I will be able to open spoiler cuts and look at his pictures.)
I am totally out of my depth when it comes to the situation with H, so I just hope you can come to some sort of resolution that lets you stay sane and happy, and that she gets the help she needs. This is such a tough situation, and I wish you all the strength in dealing with it. *hugs*
rich blonde jerk [BTW, I was impressed that Pat actually went ahead and pretty much named his one Jackass
*snerk* Truth in advertizing, though!
take this trope or that paradigm and do something, not radically new, but build off the source material to sort of evolve the subject into something new. The way Ankh-Morpork is mostly built on old bits of Ankh-Morpork, you know?
That is a good way of thinking about it! And, yes, I definitely think NotW exists on and succeeds on this level.
I've said this already to you, I'm pretty sure, and it's defiitely mentioned in my review, but, yeah, the worldbuilding here is really, really impressive. A lot of it isn't even about the things I care about, stuff like history and money and religion, but even if I don't care about the specific details, it definitely contributes to the overall solid, fleshed out feeling of the world. And the language geekery is just superb and just keeps getting better in the second book, IMO.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 04:39 pm (UTC)Yes, I do too, and while he does meet other interesting people along the way (there are a couple in particular in book 2 that I like a lot), I do miss him hanging out with his friends when he leaves the University for extended chunks of time. In a way, it's an interesting and probably more realistic (for a fantasy-for-grown-ups especially) slant for a series, where you don't just keep picking up characters or adventuring with the same fixed group, but I prefer stable ensemble casts myself, so I feel the same way you do.
Simmon/Ambrose appeals to me in a Laurence/Rankin kind of way
LOL!
At some point, in the second book I think, I got the oddest feeling that Wil may actually have a crush on Simmon. And there's a pair of characters in book 2 who I swear are behind-the-scenes lovers (or were, at one point) -- I typically don't get slasher goggles, but I'm getting the same sort of "this is canon, right?" vibe from them that I did from Dumbledore and Grindelwald in HP7. But that is neither here nor there.
neurotic genius with a god/hero complex
I feel partially responsible for innundating you with those :P But, yeah, Kvothe and Miles have some similarities that would make it easy to OD on that type of hero (though I must say that getting Miles's POV unflitered through the art of self-presentation makes him more appealing to me than Kvothe, who feels awfully smug even in his ruin, you know?
I want to like Fela more than I do (she feels, at her core, like a damsel in distress, and while the damsel is another classic trope, it's one I could stand to see the back of, and I hope this gets subverted in the next book
I feel the same way about Fela (and book 2 did not fix this, for me anyway). In general, I am somewhat apprehensive about Rothfuss falling into a Butcher-esque sort of trap with his female characters. Like, there are several female characters who I love a lot -- Devi is my favorite by far, but there's a new character introduced in book 2 that is very cool, too, and several smaller characters that I also really like, within their scope. And while I don't actually like Denna very much as a person and don't find her very interesting as a character (not because she isn't an interesting character -- I think she is -- but because the things that are objectively interesting about her are not things I'm personally intrigued/attracted by), I do think she is a very neat character to have, and an unusual one. But there are other women, including Fela, who I feel like are just kind of there to make Kvothe look good, and that irks me. It's a bit odd, because of course all of that comes from the story Kvothe is telling, so unreliable narrator is definitely something that could be playing a part, but (as with Butcher) I don't feel confident that everything that bothers me is just Kvothe's issues.
if Pat pulls an Aibynn and has her turn out to be nothing but pale and feral and slightly nuts, I'm going to be both surprised and really disappointed).
LOL, I'm pretty sure only Brust is enough of a troll to try that XD
P.S. I am always so happy to see my icons on your comments :D (
no subject
Date: 2013-09-12 05:34 am (UTC)I'm ashamed to say I didn't think of this, but now that you mention it, she definitely will be! It's a perfect name for her, really. XD
I definitely hope the work load becomes a little bit more normal there
Looks like, if anything, it's only going to get heavier. We were just learning some of the different forms of nouns and verbs and stuff, and now we're starting to string sentences together, and, oy. It's a good thing it's the kind of difficult where hard work actually pays off; I don't feel like I'm just doing busywork or anything.
Augh, is LJ still being screwy for you? I've been experiencing intermittent slowness since the latest DDoS attack, but thankfully, everything else seems to be working okay... *knock on wood*
This is such a tough situation, and I wish you all the strength in dealing with it. *hugs*
Thanks. :) I'm experiencing a sort of "insufficient data, cannot operate" situation - I genuinely don't know if my hanging on is just enabling her, or she actually *is* telling the truth, and I should support her. But in case of insufficient data, trust the experts, and the experts I know say to back off, so when in doubt, follow orders. #Stark4Lyfe
In a way, it's an interesting and probably more realistic (for a fantasy-for-grown-ups especially) slant for a series, [...] but I prefer stable ensemble casts myself, so I feel the same way you do.
Haha, yeah, this is definitely a fantasy > reality situation for me - it totally is more realistic to have him move in many different milieus, form a variety of different relationships, but I get such a strong Fellowship/Tortall/Harry Potter vibe that I'm in "give me ensembles or give me death" mode. XD Plus, of course, from a technical standpoint, a smaller cast means more development and complexity, as well as more investment from the reader, since we're more likely to see them again.
I got the oddest feeling that Wil may actually have a crush on Simmon.
I think I remember you saying something like this last time we had dinner, yep. And this would be the cutest thing, A) because I'm not too invested in Fela, like, at all (which is weird, because normally I would be ALL OVER the clever magic librarian chick), and B) it would, oddly enough, patch up the Wil&Kvothe&Simm separation problem, because I wouldn't feel like Wil and Simm are just hanging around waiting for Kvothe to get back from his Adventures. In fact, it would be kind of hilarious if Kvothe blew back into town after, like, fighting demons and rescuing damsels and stuff, only to find that his Ron and Hermione got together in his absence and were now ridiculously couple-y. Okay, I think I just over-invested myself in this ship...
I feel partially responsible for innundating you with those :P
Well, yeah, but it's the good kind of responsible! Miles is genuinely delightful, and Kvothe is plenty of fun too, but Miles is rather diluted by his strong supporting cast, while Kvothe, since he's telling his own story, feels more, er, Kvothe-centric, which is a terrible and not at all accurate way of putting it.
Kvothe, who feels awfully smug even in his ruin, you know?
Hmm, actually, this feels really accurate! Like, there's plenty of "dammit, Kvothe!" in the narrative, but even then, it feels more like (grudging and/or stupefied) praise. And there's plenty of "dammit, Miles!" in the Vorkosigan Saga, too, but his stuff feels like actual flaws, even when it leads him to all his crazy successes, whereas Kvothe's failings/flaws feel like either stuff he should know better than to do (YOU DO NOT BRING OPEN FLAME INTO A LIBRARY, which was a serious :\ moment for me), or stuff he gets rewarded for anyway.
P.S. I am always so happy to see my icons on your comments :D
And I'm always happy to steal your icons, so it's a win-win situation, really! And, ooh, I know Dasha has made some Wise Man's Fear icons, but I didn't know she did any NotW ones (I like to know the context before taking a text icon). Off to take a gander right now.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-12 06:05 pm (UTC)I think LJ's screwiness is possibly actually some bits of Java not working on my laptop for whatever reason -- the old functionality all works, but the new shiny features like spoiler-cuts and the hover menus and the new icon selector don't... I'm too lazy to try it on a different computer, though :P
it totally is more realistic to have him move in many different milieus, form a variety of different relationships, but I get such a strong Fellowship/Tortall/Harry Potter vibe that I'm in "give me ensembles or give me death" mode
Ha, yes, I hear you! And, yeah, there are characters I would like to spend more time with, e.g. most people at the university, but especially Elodin, and Wil and Devi, and when Kvothe goes off traipsing elsewhere I miss out on that.
the clever magic librarian chick
Hee! But, yeah, Fela should be more awesome, and instead I just find her and Mola (the healer girl) forgettable.
Okay, I think I just over-invested myself in this ship...
Sorry! XD I actually do see Sim as completely straight, and Wil's crush on him as unrequited (also, you know, quite possibly all in my head), but even that is a dynamic that I don't mind at all, so...
but his stuff feels like actual flaws, even when it leads him to all his crazy successes, whereas Kvothe's failings/flaws feel like either stuff he should know better than to do (YOU DO NOT BRING OPEN FLAME INTO A LIBRARY, which was a serious :\ moment for me), or stuff he gets rewarded for anyway
The open flame thing always bugged me, although I suppose I can handwave it as him having lived in the wildreness/on the streets since he was a little kid, so maybe he wouldn't know something so obvious? But it's still such a *facepalm* moment given how clever he is about everything else.
A lot of readers seem to dislike Kvothe/consider him a Gary-Stu because of the speshulness and the being rewarded for his flaws. And I definitely feel like the story is *told* that way, but what prevents it from annoying me overmuch is that of course it's Kvothe telling the story. And while he does, of course, reveal some vulnerability and flaws and weaknesses, he is doing so very consciously, and, frankly, I don't trust him to be doing it honestly, and I kind of prefer it that way, in the sense that if I were taking Kvothe at face value, I'd probably kinda hate him, too. And even in the framing story, we see him mostly either through the eyes of Bast, who is
clearly besotted withobviously cares about and admires Kvothe very much, or the Chronicler, who is just meeting the man but is familiar with the legend. So, yeah, you're really trapped in a Kvothe-centric POV the whole time... (There are these weird apparently-omniscient bits, and they really bug me, because the POV is so unclear, and also the whole "third silence" thing was old by the first paragraph, and I really didn't need it three more times, and presumably two more after that if the pattern holds.)With Miles, as you say, even though the narrative tends to be heavily Miles-focused, you get other people's unfiltered commentary on Miles, and further on in the series you start to get other people's POVs, too, Mark and Ivan and Armsman Roic and people just meeting Miles for the first time, including their POVs on Miles (which are basically "goddamn it, Miles" a lot of the time).
I think even with first-person narration, especially with clever-but-unreliable protagonists, you kind of get to a point where you need an outsider's view -- Brust did it with Athyra and parts of Orca, and while Athyra may not be my favorite book ever, the glimpse of Vlad through somebody else's eyes is really very cool, and, uh, eye-opening; and even with the Dresden Files you get the occasional short stories from a different POV, like "Backup". I think the way the Kvothe books are set up, though, there's no likely way something like that is going to happen, which is a pity, because I would love to see what some of those events looked like filtered through someone else's impressions...
no subject
Date: 2013-09-16 06:58 am (UTC)Actually, I have a handy-dandy little chart to show me the differences between accusative and ablative prepositions that I'd be happy to share with him, but somehow I doubt that Nightingale lets him have handy-dandy little charts... (By which I mean: yes, I have gotten to that point, and I wish my Latin lessons also involved getting to make things fly and/or explode, but I'm glad that I don't have to take my battery out of my phone, which I haven't the faintest idea how to do.)
maybe he wouldn't know something so obvious? But it's still such a *facepalm* moment given how clever he is about everything else.
Yeah, that's definitely a part of it - he displays such astonishing breadth of knowledge and/or intuition elsewhere, and takes such good care of his rhetoric book, I have trouble letting this one go. (Also, I'm sure Ben taught him better than that, and his parents would have made sure that he was careful with open flame around scripts, sets, paint, etc.)
what prevents it from annoying me overmuch is that of course it's Kvothe telling the story.
Exactly! And he's very sure to keep himself from edging into Gary-Stu territory *too* much - I really liked the beginning, when he was traveling with Ben and the Ruh, at least partially because he got to completely and unreservedly
fanboy aboutadmire people like Ben and his father, and I found that really endearing. Because it's clear that he likes Wil and Simm and Fela and Denna and everybody, but he's also clearly loads smarter/more talented/more resourceful than them, and very aware of this, so he doesn't have a Thomas-like figure to completely fail to be impressed with him. Which, IMO, he would kinda benefit from...no subject
Date: 2013-09-16 11:11 pm (UTC)Trade-offs! *resists pouncing on you with "so how far have you gotten?" and "isn't Nightingale the best?!" questions*
and takes such good care of his rhetoric book, I have trouble letting this one go. (Also, I'm sure Ben taught him better than that, and his parents would have made sure that he was careful with open flame around scripts, sets, paint, etc.)
Yeah, even with a generous mindset that one's kind of hard on the suspension of disbelief... I mean, Kvothe *is* super-preoccuppied with money, so there's ample motivation for making a less-than-optimal call, but, yeah, I have a hard time accepting that he wouldn't see through it as a ruse...
so he doesn't have a Thomas-like figure to completely fail to be impressed with him. Which, IMO, he would kinda benefit from...
True. I think one of the reasons I like book 2 more than book 1 is that he does come across a couple of such figures in his travels -- they were great favorites of mine -- and also there's some closer association with Elodin, who is crazy, of course, but not overly impressed with Kvothe's brilliance.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 05:47 pm (UTC)The situation with H sounds very depressing indeed. I don't know what to suggest, other than that you protect yourself and your own peace of mind as much as you can.
I know exactly what you mean by the good kind of pretentious!
Why, why, WHY don't women's clothes have pockets? I have given up on requiring them and now tuck things like shopping lists into my bra.
I love Starbucks mochas, too. But I can't have one until Thursday. Do you get whip on yours?
no subject
Date: 2013-09-12 05:49 am (UTC)Hmm...I'm not sure, actually. We also have cats, and bits of disassembled rodents turn up non-infrequently, and have done since even before Moocher got to old to be a ratter. But I would put my money on "yes" - he definitely had the speed and agility needed to catch one, and he also had the instinct to bite down and shake his head to kill it - we saw him do it plenty of times with toys and at Fall Fun Days.
Why, why, WHY don't women's clothes have pockets?
I HAVE NO IDEA! Women's clothes, especially fancy ones, are all kinds of impractical - guys get decently comfortable shoes and pockets and jackets and things, while the most we're permitted is a filmy sort of stole and a clutch big enough for a credit card and a pack of gum. :\ And, lol, one's bra can make an excellent pocket if/when one's clothes fail one. This hasn't worked out all that well for me in the past, since I sort of tend to forget what I have in there in the first place, but I know some girls who can fit, like, the entire contents of their purse.
Actually, I get the bottled Starbucks mochas, since they're sold at a little minimart type place two minutes away from the building where my Latin class is. The actual Starbucks is rather farther away, but when I do go there, I generally only get whip if I'm getting a straight-up mocha, to dilute the coffee taste even further. If I'm getting a frappuccino or something, then I can at least pretend to be virtuous. XD
no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 12:54 am (UTC)Also sorry about the situation with your friend. That's really difficult. :(
I'm glad your classes are going well! Latin sounds like a LOT of work though! But it sounds like you're enjoying it.
It is absurdly difficult to find skirts or dresses with pockets, and when I do find them, I often feel like the pockets are too small and flimsy to reliably hold things. I've given up on keeping things in pockets, to be honest.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-12 05:51 am (UTC)Thanks! :) He really was, on all counts.
Yep, too-small pockets is definitely a problem, too. XP I just tend to freak out and think that I've forgotten my phone when I can't feel it bumping against my leg, so "has pockets large enough to fit my phone without danger of it falling out" has become sort of a prerequisite.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-12 05:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 05:32 pm (UTC)Sorry to hear about Moocher. His pics sort of remind me of that adorable footstool dog from Beauty and the Beast.
The situation with H sounds difficult so I wouldn't have any solid advice to give to you. But if you feel like you want to check out a resource for dealing with tricky friendships, I suspect that Captain Awkward (http://captainawkward.com/) might be able to offer some good tips on how to handle it. You can just scroll halfway down and click on the "Friendship" tag on the box on the right side to bring up all the advice posts for friendship situations.
Also I will definitely try to elbow out some time in my schedule to see when I can come up to visit, but apparently I might be working Saturdays this fall as well, w h y, so I will keep you posted (I promise to give at least a week's notice before making any visits).
no subject
Date: 2013-09-12 06:58 am (UTC)His pics sort of remind me of that adorable footstool dog from Beauty and the Beast.
LOL, perfect! He basically was, especially when he hadn't had a haircut in forever.
Thanks for the Captain Awkward link! It looks really interesting on a multitude of topics, and has some very helpful stuff, both about my specific situation and in general.
Also I will definitely try to elbow out some time in my schedule to see when I can come up to visit
Yay! :D Don't kill yourself trying to make it work, though. You have an Actual Grownup Job and everything now, which will necessarily take up p. much all of your time, so I'll be equally happy screeching at you online.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-13 03:29 am (UTC)Meanwhile flailing online is a legit form of communication so we shall do that.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-16 06:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 07:18 pm (UTC)That's so capital-A Awesome XD
I'm sorry about your dog, sweetie *hugs* eta: somehow forgot to look at pics: he looks so , ginger and sharp-eyed, it might be my recent 101 Dalmatians rewatch speaking, but family resemblance, really.
when Kvothe was having a conversation with Wilem about idioms, and it came up that there's a Cealdish phrase that means "don't let it make you crazy," but literally translates as "don't put a spoon in your eye over it." Just little details like these,
So much this! Every time Kvothe has a geek/grammar snob moment, I flip out.
Beautiful phrasing and descriptions, but really?
I like that in those part Kvothe breaks the fourth wall, sorta, and it's so clearly posturing/first-hand storytelling in addition to the teenage emotions point, that I can even appreciate the poetry.
I'm just waiting for her to be revealed to be some sort of nonhuman or hybrid, or some crazy powerful Arcanist; if Pat pulls an Aibynn and has her turn out to be nothing but pale and feral and slightly nuts, I'm going to be both surprised and really disappointed
That's curious, I think I would be disappointed if there is an arcane~ mystery there, rather than a personal/human one. In fact, nothing but pale and feral would be fine with me as long as she gets some more screentime (which she does, in the second book, so I won't run ahead here).
What about Bast? And the Chronicler? I have grown immesurably fond of both, but that's after two doorstoppers, what your fresh impression?
Light tan field, quartered pair of scissors, wet wipes, pen, and book.
Ahahaha, I love your meme! You'd get along with Alenka, wet wipes AND pocket hand sanitizer AND bandaids! XD But I like the mobility aspect, too: Robb Stark looking bit wet? Fuck this we're going to Dorne!
no subject
Date: 2013-09-13 07:16 am (UTC)OMG, I never noticed it, but you're totally right! XD I'd definitely noticed the "people start to look like their dogs" thing in my mom, who wrinkles her nose like Moocher did, or grumbles to herself in the morning, but these were mostly conscious decisions to copy him for humorous effect. The sharp-eyed and brownish-reddish-haired thing totally fits, though, especially since about half my family has dark eyes like his.
What about Bast? And the Chronicler?
Bast: I can totally tell where all the Bast/Kvothe is coming from. ;) He's probably the character I'm most interested in learning more about, both for his own sake and as a representative of Fae, because he's clearly operating on a whole 'nother level of existence. And, of course, I want to know his and Kvothe's story, because, as I said above, ensembles/nakamas/True Companions/brotps aren't so much welcome additions as required elements by now, and I find Kvothe is best (in-story) when he has an audience/accomplice/reiner-in, as necessary.
Chronicler: Hmm... I'm getting more of an Average Joe impression from him, TBH. Maybe it's only natural when you're working with a Living Legend and a demon prince, but I'm getting that he's smart and buries his romantical tendencies under a strict veneer of academia, and not much else. Like, we've seen that he's brave, but no hero, and sometimes kind of sticks his foot in his mouth, but I would chalk that up more to an unfamiliarity with the situation than it being a defining trait of his. I assume we get plenty more of him in WMF, though?
Robb Stark looking bit wet? Fuck this we're going to Dorne!
Exactly! #NotInThisForYourRevolution XD I mean, we'd prefer the North/Riverlands, since Dorne is hot and all the food is too spicy, but at least it's not literally on fire.