I took a break from A Song of Ice and Fire to read the new edition of Neil Gaiman's American Gods (my review of which is so far incredibly disjointed and will probably stay that way). This turned out to be a good thing, as it actually gave me a bit more insight into ASOIAF.
I had reached the point in American Gods with the god in Las Vegas. The one that everyone always forgets and I can never figure out. Armed with my internet connection, I decided to figure it out once and for all. My search led me to a complete listing of the gods that appear in American Gods, which seemed like a reasonable place to find my answer. Scrolling though, I came across Bran, the Fisher King, and little alarm bells started ringing in my head.
Bran was a king in Irish mythology who got co-opted as the guardian of the grail in the Arthurian legends. He usually appears injured and unable to walk or move around by himself. He is usually called the Fisher King (because all he can do anymore is fish) and sometimes the Wounded King. The kingdom suffers along with his injuries, experiencing war and famine.
This discovery sent me down a rabbit hole of research. I remember learning about the Fisher King in my Arthurian literature class in college. It's one of the legends we spent the most time on. We watched the original movie about Perceval (which you need to be stoned to properly appreciate), read Bernard Malamud's The Natural to look for the parallels and watched that movie adaptation as well. We even watched The Fisher King, which seemed like the biggest stretch of the legend. I think we read (or were supposed to read) Chretian de Troye's Perceval, and I still have the anthology that it's a part of.
The Fisher King got renamed for more recent adaptations, which is why I never picked up on this connection before. He is Pelles in Perceval and Roy Hobbs (the hobbled king) in The Natural. But he is always wounded, always ruling in some way over a barren land, always waiting to be saved through the grail quest.
George RR Martin must have been aware of these parallels. It's one of the more insidious myths if you start looking for it, and any serious fantasy author is sure to go looking. Bran's name and injuries were no accident. Now when I pick the books back up, I'll be paying closer attention to hints about a grail quest of some sort.
I'm also going to have to re-read some of the Arthur legends. I have a decent collection of them, thanks to that class I took, and I didn't read nearly as many as I should have. Then, of course, I'll need to re-read A Song of Ice and Fire with an eye open for King Arthur. I'm sure he's in there in a thousand little ways and I just haven't picked up on it yet.
I never did figure out who the Las Vegas god is. Damn, Neil Gaiman's good.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Musty Old Books
Back in the 1940s, after he came home from WWII, my grandfather joined a book club. Once a month he received a gorgeous, classic novel. He was a part of this club for years and accumulated dozens of books. All are wonderfully bound and amazingly cared for. Each one has his name and the date he received it, which adds a nice bit of family history to this set of books.
My mom inherited the books after my grandfather died. They were displayed during my childhood, but after my parents divorced my mom didn't have enough room anymore. Most of the books have been sitting in boxes for the last decade or so. A handful did make it onto shelves, and in high school I picked up Pride and Prejudice.
I remember my mom making me swear up and down that I would take exquisite care of the book. I had always read a lot. My house was packed to overflowing with books and my parents were always willing to buy me more. But this was the first time I really felt reverence for a book. I worshiped it.
These aren't just books. They aren't just old books. They belonged to my grandfather, a man I have exactly one memory of. Reading these books makes me feel a bit more connected to my own family history. They are books that my grandfather read. Not just stories, but the actual books. My mom read them, I've read a few, and I hope that my kids will read them someday.
When Boyfriend and I bought our house, I was able to claim one of the rooms as a library/office for myself. I began hinting heavily that I wanted the books. At my mom's house they're living in boxes, but I have room to display them. A classic collection like this needs to be sitting on a shelf, not in boxes.
As a birthday surprise, my mom sent me two of the books. It's even more special because this copy of Pride and Prejudice was my introduction to Jane Austen, as it was my mom's before me. Now I just need to find spots for these books on my extensive reading list. In the meantime, at least they have a place in my library
 |
| Gorgeous old book from 1948 |
I remember my mom making me swear up and down that I would take exquisite care of the book. I had always read a lot. My house was packed to overflowing with books and my parents were always willing to buy me more. But this was the first time I really felt reverence for a book. I worshiped it.
These aren't just books. They aren't just old books. They belonged to my grandfather, a man I have exactly one memory of. Reading these books makes me feel a bit more connected to my own family history. They are books that my grandfather read. Not just stories, but the actual books. My mom read them, I've read a few, and I hope that my kids will read them someday.
When Boyfriend and I bought our house, I was able to claim one of the rooms as a library/office for myself. I began hinting heavily that I wanted the books. At my mom's house they're living in boxes, but I have room to display them. A classic collection like this needs to be sitting on a shelf, not in boxes.
As a birthday surprise, my mom sent me two of the books. It's even more special because this copy of Pride and Prejudice was my introduction to Jane Austen, as it was my mom's before me. Now I just need to find spots for these books on my extensive reading list. In the meantime, at least they have a place in my library
 |
| Awesome birthday present |
Monday, July 18, 2011
I Take It Back
I went on about an ASOIAF fan theory I thought was interesting and had some merit back in this post. I argued that maybe Jon Snow wasn't Ned Stark's bastard son, but was instead Lyanna's son by Rhaegar. I take it back. I was clearly wrong. Now that the Stark kids are starting to have weird wolf powers, and Jon is sharing in those powers, it's clear that they're all siblings.
I still have 20% of A Clash Of Kings left. A review will be coming later, maybe early next week. In the meantime, here's what I think so far:
I still have 20% of A Clash Of Kings left. A review will be coming later, maybe early next week. In the meantime, here's what I think so far:
- Theon is a jerk
- Tyrion is awesome
- Joffrey needs to just die already. Please?
- I feel so bad for Sansa. I want her to escape
- Arya is awesome, as always. I have complete faith in her
- Brienne is pretty cool, too.
- I hope the Starks win the war, but it's not looking good.
- I really want to see what happens with Dany. She's amazing and her story is awesome. But I want her to get her butt to Westeros. I imagine that won't actually happen until the last book, though.
- I refuse to believe that Bran and Rickon are dead. It's not true. They melded with Summer and Shaggy Dog or something. Or Theon's just trying to trick everyone for some awful reason. But they aren't dead.
- Actually, the next chapter is a Theon chapter, so I'm guessing their deaths will actually be confirmed soon. Boo.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
New York Moments
It's 7:30 in the morning. Our bedroom is sweltering, but the living room is pleasantly cool. There's a storm outside; thunder booms every few minutes. No one else is awake yet. I'm reading about Jon Snow riding through the Haunted Wood. All I need is a cup of tea.
Walking through Central Park. It's still drizzling, but there's no real need for an umbrella anymore. The trail is spotted with puddles and a couple is carefully leading their three children around each one. I splash straight through. Because I can.
We just ordered nachos and Texas-sized margaritas at a place called Tequilaville while we wait for our last friend to arrive. This can only end well.
Dinosaurs were huge. I mean, intellectually you know they were big. And the name means giant lizard (or is that just something I'm clinging to from childhood that isn't actually true?) But you're never quite prepared to be standing in a huge hall surrounded by skeletons towering above you. Wandering around among their bones is always a good time. Even if you accidentally go through the exhibit backwards.
Someone selected Only the Good Die Young on the jukebox and I'm dancing and singing along. The music is drowning me out, which is probably best for everyone. We're playing shuffleboard, and we've introduced a new rule: living on the edge. If you get a puck to hang off the edge without falling off, and it stays there til the end of the round, the other team buys a round of shots. We can turn anything into a drinking game.
Heading to the Natural History Museum we discover we took the subway to the wrong side of the Central Park. No big deal, we'll just cut across the park. Except we somehow find ourselves under the park instead of in it. I haven't had any caffeine yet, and my tea is spilling over onto my hand while I wait for it to cool down. On the other side of the park, we're still 12 blocks south of where we should be, but that's a nice excuse to actually walk through the park for a bit.
Our friend has some truly horrible ginger beer in her fridge. She's trying to get rid of it, but no one wants to drink the last bottle. We finally come up with the brilliant idea of using it as an arbitrary punishment in a game of connections. The first person to connect the entire group must drink the beer. I'm so glad it wasn't me.
It's the biggest Barnes&Noble I've ever seen. Four stories high and each level is surprisingly spacious. I could spend days in a store like this. But time is limited, so I hurry up to the science section, the graphic novels, the fantasy. I even find the right edition of Fellowship of the Ring to replace the one I lost years ago. My Lord of the Rings is once more complete.
The Lesser Kudu is a great name for an animal. Not only is kudu fun to say, the name implies that there's an even bigger version of this animal (also on display in the African Mammals exhibit). Plus they have cool, spiral horns. And then you find out about Kudu Dung Spitting. We live in a strange world.
Some mad genius turned a boat into a bar/restaurant. Incredibly, we're the only people there at 3 in the afternoon. We get a couple pitchers of beer (bacon beer sounds better than it tastes, fyi) and grab some tables. Slowly the group expands from 6 to 15 as people trickle in. We order more beer, catch up with people we haven't seen in years, and try not to get too nauseated every time the waves get bigger and the boat's rocking becomes noticeable.
On the west side of Manhattan, there's an elevated park that used to be a railroad line. Now it's a fun way to walk through the city without worrying about traffic. We admire the architecture while our popsicles melt down our arms. Every time someone wants a drink of water, we are subject to creepy public art.
The sun is rapidly setting. We take a taxi as far as 10th avenue before traffic backs up. Then we keep walking west until the fireworks start. We don't make it very far before the first ones blast into the sky. They're going off right at the end of 45th street, and we have a pretty spectacular view of it. It looks like the display is repeated every few blocks all up and down the island. The show must be overwhelming from the piers. But that requires camping out all day. Instead we enjoy our slice of the show and imagine it repeating in both directions.
Cheeseburgers and drumsticks. Potato salad with pickles and pasta salad with salami. Chips and dip. Lots of beer. And Jack. And then tequila. Perfect summer evening.
Walking through Central Park. It's still drizzling, but there's no real need for an umbrella anymore. The trail is spotted with puddles and a couple is carefully leading their three children around each one. I splash straight through. Because I can.
We just ordered nachos and Texas-sized margaritas at a place called Tequilaville while we wait for our last friend to arrive. This can only end well.
Dinosaurs were huge. I mean, intellectually you know they were big. And the name means giant lizard (or is that just something I'm clinging to from childhood that isn't actually true?) But you're never quite prepared to be standing in a huge hall surrounded by skeletons towering above you. Wandering around among their bones is always a good time. Even if you accidentally go through the exhibit backwards.
Someone selected Only the Good Die Young on the jukebox and I'm dancing and singing along. The music is drowning me out, which is probably best for everyone. We're playing shuffleboard, and we've introduced a new rule: living on the edge. If you get a puck to hang off the edge without falling off, and it stays there til the end of the round, the other team buys a round of shots. We can turn anything into a drinking game.
Heading to the Natural History Museum we discover we took the subway to the wrong side of the Central Park. No big deal, we'll just cut across the park. Except we somehow find ourselves under the park instead of in it. I haven't had any caffeine yet, and my tea is spilling over onto my hand while I wait for it to cool down. On the other side of the park, we're still 12 blocks south of where we should be, but that's a nice excuse to actually walk through the park for a bit.
Our friend has some truly horrible ginger beer in her fridge. She's trying to get rid of it, but no one wants to drink the last bottle. We finally come up with the brilliant idea of using it as an arbitrary punishment in a game of connections. The first person to connect the entire group must drink the beer. I'm so glad it wasn't me.
It's the biggest Barnes&Noble I've ever seen. Four stories high and each level is surprisingly spacious. I could spend days in a store like this. But time is limited, so I hurry up to the science section, the graphic novels, the fantasy. I even find the right edition of Fellowship of the Ring to replace the one I lost years ago. My Lord of the Rings is once more complete.
The Lesser Kudu is a great name for an animal. Not only is kudu fun to say, the name implies that there's an even bigger version of this animal (also on display in the African Mammals exhibit). Plus they have cool, spiral horns. And then you find out about Kudu Dung Spitting. We live in a strange world.
Some mad genius turned a boat into a bar/restaurant. Incredibly, we're the only people there at 3 in the afternoon. We get a couple pitchers of beer (bacon beer sounds better than it tastes, fyi) and grab some tables. Slowly the group expands from 6 to 15 as people trickle in. We order more beer, catch up with people we haven't seen in years, and try not to get too nauseated every time the waves get bigger and the boat's rocking becomes noticeable.
On the west side of Manhattan, there's an elevated park that used to be a railroad line. Now it's a fun way to walk through the city without worrying about traffic. We admire the architecture while our popsicles melt down our arms. Every time someone wants a drink of water, we are subject to creepy public art.
The sun is rapidly setting. We take a taxi as far as 10th avenue before traffic backs up. Then we keep walking west until the fireworks start. We don't make it very far before the first ones blast into the sky. They're going off right at the end of 45th street, and we have a pretty spectacular view of it. It looks like the display is repeated every few blocks all up and down the island. The show must be overwhelming from the piers. But that requires camping out all day. Instead we enjoy our slice of the show and imagine it repeating in both directions.
Cheeseburgers and drumsticks. Potato salad with pickles and pasta salad with salami. Chips and dip. Lots of beer. And Jack. And then tequila. Perfect summer evening.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Last Update For a Bit
Life is incredibly busy. Work is finally under control, but now the move is taking up all my time. As always, I put off packing longer than I should have. So now I get to spend all week packing and taking stuff over to the new house. Saturday is the main moving day, with the truck and Boyfriend's buddies to help lift stuff. We have to get the carpets cleaned at the new place before we move and the old place after we move (joy). The washer/dryer is being delivered, and there are probably about ten more Target/Bed, Bath, and Beyond runs in the near future. So until we're all settled in the new place, I doubt I'll be updating this blog very much. I will be back sometime next week. Possibly the week after. Probably with more pictures of the house.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
New House!
We got the keys to our new house yesterday. I took a bunch of pictures, but I'm not great at picture-taking. Also I was drinking champagne while doing this. That certainly didn't help.
From the front door of the house. You can see the kitchen on the left and the living room in the back
Another look at the entrance way. That's the front door on the right and a nice big closet on the left
Kitchen! I like the huge window
Another view of the kitchen. Also Boyfriend, with the champagne we're about to drink
More kitchen.
A close up of the black splash. This seems to be the thing to do, so I did it. Isn't it pretty, though?
The dining/living room area. There's a step down to the living room
Living room from a different angle. You can also see the door to the backyard and the curtains that the previous owners left behind.
Dining room from the living room. I'm not good at taking reasonable pictures that show off a space, so I went for lots
Backyard! It has a patio and all sorts of plants we have to take care of. Apparently we got some tomato plants and an herb garden. Beyond the gate is a big park with lots of walking trails and some baseball fields. Part of what makes this location so great.
Bathroom #1, on the main floor
The basement area.
The basement from another angle
The closet under the stairs is entirely paneled in cedar. Apparently this is good for fur coats. We're going to use it for alcohol, though.
Laundry room. We did not get a washer/dryer. But we did get an American flag
Apparently there was some leftover granite/cabinetry from the kitchen remodel
Bathroom #2, downstairs. This one has a full shower
More storage under the stairs. There's some lovely artwork on the inside of that cabinet done by the previous kids. We'll probably paint over it soon.
Heading upstairs. That weird rod in the middle is for the stairs to the attic. There are no pictures of the attic because it's not terribly exciting. But we have one! And it's awesome!
Bedroom #1. This will actually be my office/library. I'm so excited to have a library.
Bedroom #2. This will be the guest bedroom. All of the rooms upstairs have ceiling fans, which is definitely a nice feature. Also, the window in this bedroom and the last look over the front of the house
Bedroom #2 from another angle. It's bigger, so it got two pictures
Bathroom #3. This is for the two bedrooms I just showed you. What on earth am I going to do with all these bathrooms?
Master bedroom from one side. These windows look off the back of the house into that park
Master bedroom from the other side. Also the closet and vanity
Master closet. It's bigger than this picture makes it look
Master bathroom. I want to tear that glass door off and replace it with something easier to clean. But that's not a top priority (Buying a washer/dryer is the top priority)
Another view of the bathroom, taken from the second closet in the master bedroom. That's right, we have his and her closets. Except that one is twice as big as the other, so it won't actually work out that way.
And that's all the pictures. I may post more after we actually move in and it's not just empty rooms
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