Yesterday after a library conference (at which I was the only male attendee) I bolted over to Macon, GA, to hear one of my favorite musicians play. I was able to give her my librarian compliment (telling her I appreciated how casually she worked in references to Hemingway and Sylvia Plath into her songs)*, and then enjoyed a great acoustic concert. She’s run into Sierra Ferrell, something I wondered about, and confirmed that she’s wicked fun to hang out with. I hate screaming and never scream myself, but screaming was done and heard and I may have contributed. This morning, while breakfasting with two cool ladies who also did the meet-and-greet, I learned that the filming location for Fried Green Tomatoes was just north of the city. I had plans for the day and they disappeared like Frank Bennett. I have a dog named Idgie, for pete’s sake, of course I was going. (I’ve also visited the actual cafe that inspired the book.)
(incoherent but enthusiastic screaming) IT’S THE PLACE! FROM THE MOVIE!!!!
“Idgie was a character, all right, but how anyone could have thought she murdered that man was beyond me…” They don’t serve barbecue a la Frank Bennett. I need to research the history of this town, but this strip is apparently owned by one person who has wisely oriented it towards the idolization of Fried Green Tomatoes. All of the shops sell FGT-related materials along with their peculiar specialties (antiques, books, oil paintings). I found a hobbit hole!
….actually, it’s a place where the Ocmulgees used to do funerals. The great mound, which I climbed and acquired sunburn while resting there.Touring a mostly-intact late 19th century farm, the Jarrell Plantation. Operated circa 1840 to 1962. Stayed in the family until they gave it to the State of Georgia for use as a living history museum.
Two young men land in England and begin their journey home, to the Welsh marches. They are not the cheerful young boys they were nearly two years ago, when they set off for the Holy Land with their lord. They have experienced Hell, in blistering heat and clouds of flies and a desperate stand against the best of Saladin’s army. But if they’ve come back to England expecting peace and safety, they will find neither. The sniveling John is steadily attempting to usurp his brother’s throne, and he has allies in the Midlands soaking the people to increase his coffers, not knowing those allies are more in service to the French than himself. Roland and Declan’s master’s lord has gotten caught up in this devilry, and when they arrive home they find their former household naught but ashes. The bastard de Ferrers, the man who killed Roland’s father for poaching a deer that he never touched, is growing in power and arrogance and has unlawfully seized Cheshire and hangs all who resist him from the walls of Chester. Roland and Declan must find the remains of Sir Roger’s household, who have sought refuge in Wales, and find a way to stay alive and hopefully undermine all his villainry. They are not alone: Sir Roger’s daughter, Millie, is an agent of Queen Eleanor, working to expose all the plotting, and the Queen herself is no less formidable for her advancing age. Oh, and there’s also Robin of Loxley and Friar Tuck wandering around!
This is not a series I’d intended to get into: honestly, after reading No King, No Country, I was just curious as to what one of Grant’s other books might be like, and now I’m three books into it. There’s a lot to like here: we began with a frightened young orphan who is now an accomplished warrior, and increasingly a leader of men. There’s the great drama of politics, of course, both the domestic power plays and the way they’re being inflamed and enveloped into France’s ambitions. Seeing the Robin Hood story slowly percolating here adds a splash of whimsy, but it’s just a splash: Grant is careful to led his leads dominate, with Robin and Tuck remaining extremely minor characters. Although the beginning of this series struck me as written for young teens, all three of the once-minor leads are on the verge of adulthood now, each taking on responsibilities. Both Roland and Declan have moments of command here, and Millie is a key player in the plot, no less courageous than her crusader father and just as wily as the Queen herself. She and Roland’s attachment to each other is also beginning to mature. As this series continues, it’s becoming more of an ensemble with a leading man, instead of being the Roland-and-Millie show, but that’s to its benefit as I enjoy seeing Eleanor work to maintain the peace of the realm despite Johnny-boy’s ambitions. One new character this round is Llewellyn, the exiled king of Gwynedd whose lands are taken by his uncles Owain and Dayffd: I have a feeling he will make a return, as his alliance with Roland’s people is meant to be one of mutual support: I’d bet money one future book is Roland supporting Llewellyn against the conspiring uncles.
Yep. Pay up, me!
Related: Here be Dragons, Sharon Kay Penman. Welsh drama set during this same time, and also featuring a Welsh Llewellyn.
Highlights:
“Where are the barons?” he asked, with acid in his voice. “They have the power to control the Prince, not you or I.” “That’s a good question,” said Tuck. “If the Queen was sure of where the main pieces on the chessboard stood, she wouldn’t be talking to us pawns.”
He winked at her when he handed over the reins. “The English breed fast horses and beautiful girls, my lady. I enjoyed sampling one of the two.” Millicent mounted quickly and looked over her shoulder at the bold young Welshman. “It is well you chose the one you could handle, my lord,” she said, wheeling the horse around and digging her heels into its flanks.
“Did you kill the bastard living in your house?” Robin shook his head. “I was going to, but the priest here stopped me,” he said pointing to his companion. “This is Friar Tuck.” The big man laughed. “ The church! Always spoiling our fun.”
“Two days ago he offered me five of his horses, a fine mail shirt and three gold coins [for the roan].” “Good God, he lusts after that horse like it was a woman.” “I honestly believe that if he had a woman of his own, he would throw her into the bargain for the horse.”
“If you would have been as charming to the guard, we would not be in this situation.” Roland returned her look with a small smile. “The guard was not as pretty.”
I’m an hour away from meeting the musician whose voice I’ve heard every day for the last two years. Had an interesting morning at a library administration conference, then a drive through strawberry, pecan, and peach orchards to Macon, GA. Going to a concert and a meet and greet tonight, then doing some general touristy stuff tomorrow. I’ve got a scheduled review for tomorrow, though.
Ooh-oooh-ooho-ooh! I want you one last time Another hit to ease my mind I don’t want you to be over yet Won’t you be my last cigarette?
Not the best audio, but she looks cool as hell.
This one is from her new album Obsessed that will be released this fall.
Here we go You got me fallin’ in love again You got a secret, I wanna keep it I wish I’d known you in your wilder days
We’re said and done and now you’re movin’ ‘cross the country You found someone, I’m still acceptin’ that it’s not me All the words we’ve ever said are bouncin’ off the ceiling I try not to but I still have phantom feelings I still have phantom feeling..
(Ooh-ooh) Like June and Johnny (Ooh-ooh) Like Clyde and Bonnie
We run like rebels through the dust of the devil It’s you and me, baby, when the dirt all settles (Ooh-ooh) (Ooh-ooh)
Today’s prompt from Long and Short Reviews is “Introvert or Extrovert: Which are You?” I don’t know that I’d identify with either, since my expressiveness can vary widely depending on whom I’m with. My best friend from school, for instance, was surprised in sixth grade to discover that his quiet desk-mate suddenly morphed into a prank-pulling chatterbox at church. When I first moved back to town over a decade ago and entered a new social circle, I was more observant and quiet, and then when doing a skit in costume, I suddenly erupted with energy — again. I think it’s accurate to say I have a decided inclination toward introversion, given that I’ve always been bookish and thoughtful, but it’s only an inclination and balanced by my fondness for good company and the fact that I have a job in which I have to be personable. I’ve also noticed that I tend to be drawn toward people who are very outgoing, because their energy activates my own — all of my best friends are outgoing. I do like withdrawing into the quiet lunchroom and just spending an hour reading, though. I know other people who can switch on either mode: my friend DJ, for instance, was known for his outrageous and loud personality, but those who knew him well also knew that he could happily spend hours in silence, engrossed in a book. Cody Jinks, a guitarist and country singer, described himself once as ‘an ambivert’. I don’t put too much stock in labels, myself, but perhaps that’s the most accurate.
“Every battle is different, but all are chaos.” “I hope I never see another,” said Sir Robin. “Nor I,” added Declan. “A man could get killed.”
Three kings of Europe are leading a crusade in the Holy Land to retake Jerusalem following its fall to the master-of-war, Saladin — and young Roland Inness, a lad whose bow beat even that of Robin of Loxley, is joining it. He doesn’t have any wild ambition to drive the Saracens from Jerusalem, but it’s the nature of feudalism: the knight he is squired to is pledged to support the King, so there you are. The journey to Outremer is one fraught with peril, from both man and nature alike, but especially man: most of the Iberian coast is hostile, and the Mediterranean has no shortage of Berber and Moorish pirates. Once there, Roland and company will join the siege of Acre, all the while Phillip of France schemes with allies in England to create a little domestic drama for the Lion Heart. We are told this story in two parts: the first, following young Roland across the world; the second, focusing his lord’s daughter Millie, who has been asked by Queen Eleanor to serve as a lady-in-waiting in a key section of the Midlands and keep her ears open. Roland and Millie are somewhat sweet on one another, but are separated here, and the events of this story are pushing them quickly into adult responsibilities and real peril, especially Roland whose boyhood innocence is long lost in the din of war.I definitely think these were intended for younger readers now, given the cover art and the continuing lack of graphic language, violence, or other content: battles happen, but we don’t have prolonged description of viscera flying and the like. Making matters more interesting is the fact that the man who killed Roland’s father, the man whose company Roland massacred and made himself an outlaw in the doing of, is involved in the domestic skulduggery and eying Millie. Whenever he and Roland finally confront one another, it’s going to be emotionally intense with all the layers of drama building between them. As with Longbow, Grant works in a little of the Robin Hood mythos, with Robin and Friar Tuck reappearing as minor characters — making this another fun bit of medieval adventuring. Grant has written seven books in this series, so there’s much to look forward to.
Related: Crusader, Ben Kane. For multiple reasons: same Crusade, same Richard, and similar setup with the English ship being harried by various powers in the Med, same dirty domestic politics, same intense rivalry between our hero and some nefarious nobleman who did his father in and who is undermining the king. Kane’s drama is more meaty and serious, though.
Today’s TTT is characters we’d go on vacation with. But first, some teases!
And now, in a never-before-attempted bit of meta-metaphysical wizardry, the real Neil Patrick Harris will reappear to bedazzle you with a magic trick. And by “you,” we mean you, you. And by “we,” we mean me, Neil Patrick Harris.
Neil Patrick Harris: Choose Your Own Autobiography
“And you think exactly the same,” he said firmly, and stared out his elder, eye to eye. “When I want to hear my echo,” said Brother Cadfael, “I will at least speak first.”
“Your prior will be wise,” said Urien, taking his leave, “to take a lesson from yonder young fellow. Leading and coaxing pays better than driving in these parts.
A Morbid Taste for Bones, Ellis Peters
So, characters I’d go on vacation with..
(1) Hermione Granger. No need to do any planning, because she’ll know everything anyway. Train timetables? When will the sun set? When the M5 is busiest? All covered. She can also punch bullies in the face — not to mention magicking us out of any serious problems.
(2) Isaac Asimov. “Waitaminute,” say you, “Asimov is a person, not a character!” That’s where you’re wrong. Asimov made himself a character in one of his novels, Murder at the ABA. So, I can cheat a skosh and have Asimov’s good humor and inexhaustible skill at conversation. Would be interesting to have a trivia contest between him and Hermione.
(3) Uhtred of Bebbanberg. This Saxon warlord raised by Vikings can not only defend our traveling party from any assailants, but if we grow bored he can regale us with battle-stories.
(4) La’an Noonien Singh. I think she was in Star Trek SNW: The High Country, so I can count her here. I’d bring La’an for her security mindset and singing. Also, she’s played by Christina Chong.…
(5) and (6) Jeeves and Wooster. Obviously. Comic relief from Wooster, cocktails from Jeeves. We also get singing and piano playing with HughLaurie-Wooster.
(7) and (8) Tom Sawyer and Anne of Green Gables. Is it really a proper vacation if there aren’t adorable children creating chaos? Tom could build a boat, too.
(9) and (10) The Old Man and the Boy, from Robert Ruark’s accounts of his and his grandfather’s adventures in the 1920s. The Old Man was hilarious, and Tom and boy-Robert would get along splendidly, I think.
It is a fit time for heroes and legends to arise. This is the story of one such.
From the treeline, young Roland Inness watches in mute horror as his father is murdered by the local lord’s son, who believe him to be in possession of a longbow that poached a deer. Roland himself wields that bow, and he uses it to strike back against these royal bullies, making himself an outlaw in the process. Fleeing north, pursued by a mercenary, he encounters an opportunity for shelter and service, one that will bring him to London to observe the coronation of King Richard — but there, too, he’ll find the past waiting for him. Longbow is my second book by Wayne Grant, and a rollicking fun bit of medieval adventure it is, complete with a friar named Tuck. Roland is an instantly sympathetic character — a poor orphan whose only crime was trying to eat, laden with guilt over his father’s dead and driven on by a thirst for revenge. The supporting characters are a fine crew, too: a warrior-monk, a cheeky Irish squire who becomes Roland’s friend, a young lady with mischievous wit, and nobles great and gross. As with No King, No Country, there’s a solid current of activity here that’s nicely balanced — not too frantic, but never slow, and varied. The ending is especially fun, culminating with an archery contest in which a certain Robin of Loxley is present, and Grant works in a fair bit of historical detail — though not as much as Cornwell or Ben Kane might. Given the age of the protagonist, and the lack of overly graphic violence or language, this might be intended for teen audiences, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. From the descriptions of other books in the series, it looks like Roland’s vengeance will continue to dog him.
At this distance, there could be no doubt as to the identity of the leader. Roland paused for a moment. This was no roebuck he was stalking—it was a man. The church said that vengeance was the provenance of God. “This is not church,” he muttered to himself. The boy drew the longbow smoothly, sighted and released in a fluid motion.
“My lady,” said Roland gravely, “our little man seems to have transformed himself into a…hedgehog.” The girl gave him a withering look. “It’s well known the wee folk have magical powers,” added Declan sincerely.
“Lad, I’ve been a soldier longer than you’ve been alive and I’ve never seen shooting like that.” The King spoke with genuine admiration in his voice. “Where’d you learn?” “From my father, your grace,” Roland replied, through his nervousness. “Aye, I learned a thing or two from my own sire!” the King said. Considering the civil war he had recently fought with his late father, no one laughed at his joke.
A brother at the monastery lies abed ranting and raving: the man who volunteered to watch him through the night falls asleep and wakes with a vision, one of a blessed saint who promising healing to the afflicted brother if her bones, neglected in their current grave, are properly enshrined at the monastery. Following the bishop’s approval, six monks journey to Wales to disinter the sainted young lady and bring her to the monastery. The locals are horrified at the notion of outlanders disturbing their saint’s rest and carting her away to Saxon territory, and then their most outspoken man develops an acute case of arrow-in-chest. Although a local is declared guilty by virtue of it being his arrow that was used, Brother Cadfael has dark suspicions that one of his brethren — the man whose idea this quest was anyway — may be behind it. It’s time for for Monk, medieval style!
It’s safe to say that this is unique among all of the medieval fiction I’ve read, given that all else is combat fiction: there’s very little shooty-stabby business here. A little, admittedly, since there is a murder involved, but it’s mostly character-riven drama that draws on medieval religion and politics. The book is not short on memorable characters, the best being Cadfael — a man who fought in the Crusades but who is now pursuing a life of prayerful contemplation at Shrewsbury Abbey, whose vast store of life experience serves him well in this little adventure. A Welshman by birth, Cadfael’s happy to be returning home for a little bit, and his affection for his people combined with his doubt about the prior’s motives mean he’s secretly on the side of the community whose graveyard is here to be prayerfully plundered. This also adds to his involvement in figuring out who really killed the man who so vocally objects to the monk’s desire: more than not having a dog in the fight, he has both dogs in the fight, and he doesn’t want further harm to befall the village, nor shame his Abbey. His wariness, affection for both sides, and ability to translate the others’ needs helps him gain the trust of the murdered man’s daughter, and together they work to expose the real killer. The writing is wonderful, and I definitely see continuing in this series.
Today’s TTT is a freebie, so I’m going to go completely off topic with game screenshots that….well, leave a player asking questions. These are all my personal screenshots, from 2004 to now. (…I’m a data hoarder…) But first, a tease!
My problem with the disregard of the past that we typically manifest today is that we are highly selective in what elements of a historical person’s character we are willing to take seriously. We tend to consider only those elements that reflect the dominant concerns of our moment, which are not the only concerns that are relevant to human judgment. In looking at figures from the past, we behave, as Vance and Alexander suggest, rather like admissions officers at elite colleges and universities: We look for ways to send them to the reject pile. [….] But if Moby-Dick simply reaffirms our current state of opinion, why bother to read it at all?
Breaking Bread with the Dead, Alan Jacobs
GTA Vice City. …..I don’t think helicopters work like that….. (GTA San Andreas)We have a werewolf, a floating robot drone, and a portal into the supernatural realm. Perfectly normal. (The Sims 4)“Drunk? DRUNK? No, officer, I was not drunk, your road has POT HOLES. And INFERIOR GUARD RAILS. I’m the VICTIM here!” (GTA V)NOPE NOPE NOPE (Red Dead Redemption II)This is obviously in an alternate universe (Game Dev Tycoon)Tech Support: Player Unknown. I was operating multiple tickets at the same time.I was just fishing. Then there were bounty hunters. I. HAD. A PLANNUHHHHH!!!!!!!
(Dutch ran into a wagon while pontificating.I got the aftermath.) Strangeville’s “possessed” behavior meets a mod’s “zombie” behavior. Hilarity and death ensue.
I’ve never experienced a solar eclipse before (the one from a few years back was barley noticable in my neck of the woods), but I naively thought that 85% coverage would translate to something approaching dusk. Turns out the noonday sun is so strong that even reduced to a sliver of itself, it still looked like afternoon — at least, before the cloudcover moved in. There was a significant drop in temperature and some atypical birdsong, but nothing out of the way. Had I been buried under a rock somewhere and not known about the eclipse, I wouldn’t have regarded it as anything more than a heavy cloud system moving in. As it was, watching the shadow of the moon (through the glasses) grow over the “great lord of years and days“, was captivatingly eerie.
Reading Freely 