#also very good reference to that tiger poem

[notquitecogent]

baby, i'm yours now (dreaming a connection)

EDIT: A quick update to say this one is now also available on Ao3, in glorious high-definition.

BEHOLD! My first-ever (public) attempt at fic – and smut, no less! (#allin) – inspired by, and written for, the incomparable @majicmarker. It's Hellcheer. It's demisexual. It's soft as hell. It's stream-of-consciousness ADHD vibes (not my usual style but I feel like it works for Eddie's POV, which this is).

Anyway, I'm terrified of posting this (see also: the crippling fear of being known) but I'm biting – nay, tearing – through the proverbial bullet because this was fulfilling to write and perhaps it will fulfil others?? TITLE: baby, i'm yours now (dreaming a connection) PAIRING: Eddie x Chrissy (F/M), Stranger Things s4 RATING: Explicit WORD COUNT: ~4,000 CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 WARNINGS: Heterosexual sex, mild drug references, swearing, overusing italics for emphasis, run-on sentences as a stylistic choice Ok. So. It really, really wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

After nearly 20 years on Earth, Eddie was well and truly used to getting carried away; his out-of-control imagination would grab a concept in its greedy little hands and bolt – catapulting between ideas, fantasies and ever-more-complicated scenarios before he’d even had the chance to really think. 

It was an uncontrollable kind of thing, the way his brain just seemed to latch and run with it. 

And, well, sometimes it worked out; there were song lyrics (Corroded Coffin’s finest, if he said so himself), D&D campaigns (more than a few inspired narrative twists) – even poems (shut up). 

And sometimes, like now, it really, really didn’t. 

Because his brain’s latest obsession was one Christine Elizabeth Cunningham. Oh yes. Queen of Hawkins High, almost certainly Prom Queen, captain of the cheerleading squad, Chrissy Cunningham. A very nice, very pretty, very most definitely off-limits, unavailable, do NOT under any circumstances even think about it, you fucking idiot, type of girl. 

The picture of loveliness and wholesomeness and everything bright and good in the world, but with big sad eyes and a laundry list of trauma oh, about 50 feet long. 

Unlike her certified dropkick Conformity Ken boyfriend, Chrissy was sweet as a peach, and just as easily bruised – she’d been so nervous when they’d met up at the picnic table, and it had made him want to wrap her in cotton wool and tell her everything was going to be alright. Made him want to slay all her demons and keep her safe forever. 

You know – real righteous Paladin, white knight shit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Because she already had a guy for that (the aforementioned dropkick, Jason Carver – god, even his name was like something out of Tiger Beat). 

It was Jason’s job to take care of her; to hold her tight and stroke her silky is-it-reddish-blonde-or-blondish-red hair and oh, probably make her cups of hot chocolate with the tiny marshmallows she probably loved because she was probably just that cute. 

Except she hadn’t gone to the King of All Tools when everything got bad, had she? She’d come to him – in secret, might he add – and she’d gotten into his van and come back to the trailer and stood inside and then chickened out of taking any drugs and just sat there and cried and poured her little sugarplum heart out to him. 

And, well, he couldn’t help how he felt about that, could he? Eddie wasn’t made of stone – in fact, he’d been reminded far too many times that his heart might as well have been made of those same tiny hot chocolate marshmallows, for all the soft, squishy, tender, sweet feelings that seemed to pour out of it whenever someone in his vicinity was upset. 

He’d wrapped her up in a threadbare blanket and awkwardly rubbed her shoulder and she’d smiled and said, “Yes, please, Eddie,” when he’d asked if she needed a hug. And he’d held her in his arms and she’d rested her no-it’s-definitely-reddish-blonde head on his chest, right above his black widow tattoo and more importantly, the marshmallow heart – and his foolish, ridiculous, idiot brain had decided Chrissy Cunningham would be all it would think about every minute of every hour since. 

He’d dropped her off at the big, beautiful house in Loch Nora (that she lived there and he lived in the seen-better-days double-wide in Forest Hills Trailer Park was such a cliché it was like a fucking Billy Joel song come to life).

Then he spent the next two hours chain-smoking and scarfing down handfuls of cereal and gas station candy while his imagination made her the centre of Corroded Coffin’s next hypothetical concept album, right down to the cover art (she’d be in one of those long chiffon nightdresses, floating about an abandoned castle as he dispatched her ghoulish nightmares back to Hell with a truly vicious riff). 

And then she’d somehow got his number from Dustin Henderson and called him up on the phone, just to say hi, just to make sure he wasn’t too freaked out by her the other night. And they’d made plans to hang out again – had gone for a walk in his neighbourhood where no-one of consequence would see them together, and his stupid blabber mouth had told her some of his secrets, like why he didn’t have a mom or dad (abandoned him and in prison, respectively) and why he was repeating senior year yet again (at this point it’s just habit, he’d joked, ha ha ha, and she’d given him this half-grin like she couldn’t tell if he was trying to make her laugh or not – but he was, he always was, he’d never stopped trying after hearing her delightful little giggle for the first time). 

Then it was very much sharing their hopes and dreams – all very teenage American heartland, John Cougar Mellencamp bullshit, he thought with shame (excitement) and disgust (delight).

But it had kept going like that; the calling up, the meeting up. “I can’t talk to anyone the way I talk to you,” she'd confessed once, so matter-of-factly it broke his heart a bit. She brought him a little cross-stitched Corroded Coffin bandana for his birthday in May, and he’d made her a mixtape for hers a few weeks later in June. 

“This is so sweet, Eddie,” she’d said. “I’ll listen to it every night.” And his brain had melted out his ears imagining her in her frilly pyjama set, under the covers with her headphones on and thinking of him. 

They didn’t talk in school. Prom came and went, with Chrissy and Jason predictably crowned Queen and King and Eddie spending the evening getting excruciatingly high and trying not to think about them going up to the suite Captain Haircut had probably booked at Hawkins’ only nice hotel to celebrate, just the two of us, like the walking cliché he was. 

Before he knew it, graduation was upon them. He’d already resigned himself to never seeing Chrissy Cunningham again, once she moved away to IU with Darling Jase. They should start a new war and bring back the draft, Eddie thought uncharitably, and then felt immediately guilty because Uncle Wayne had been in Vietnam.

Except, as it turned out, Eddie didn’t need the United States Armed Forces to get involved because Chrissy voluntarily broke up with Jason four days into summer break, telling him she’d be going to Illinois instead for her legacy place at her dad’s alma mater. 

A little after that, she’d come to the trailer unannounced and out of breath, chipmunk cheeks flushed and an unreadable expression (strangely like hope?) in her lovely, lovely eyes that were bluish-grey-or-were-they-greyish-blue. 

Which brings him to the present moment, in which he is entirely unsure what exactly the fuck is happening – but what else is new?

“I’ve realised something,” Chrissy tells him at the door. 

“What?” he asks dumbly, and then she grabs the collar of his lucky Black Sabbath T-shirt and pulls him into what is, to date, the best and most Earth-shattering kiss he’s ever had, until she plants the second one on him.

“I’m in love with you, Eddie,” she says between that first and second kiss (and on the third, she slips her tongue in his mouth). 

And while his brain seems to have fallen into an LSD-like trance amid the insane sensory overload he is currently experiencing, Eddie’s hands have a mind of their own; they make a valiant attempt at overloading his senses even more, skimming Chrissy’s waist, then sliding around to cup her ass through her little corduroy skirt. 

And then he realises he didn’t say anything when she told him she loved him (she is in love with him!!) and he has to break away – panting, hopefully not too embarrassingly, and rest his forehead against hers. 

“Do you love me too, Eddie?” she says softly, gazing up at him through her delicate little eyelashes, with her shining definitely-bluish-grey eyes. “It’s alright if you don’t. I just needed you to know I love you.”  

She’s holding his wrists as he cups her face, and she closes her eyes for a moment as if dreading what he has to say next. 

Eddie can’t help himself; he bends and kisses both cheeks, in the place where tears might fall if she were crying. 

“I think,” he says, kissing one, “I might love you more” – he kisses the other – “than anything in the world,” he concludes, brushing his lips softly against hers. 

With his eyes closed, he can feel her break into a smile a mile wide and an ocean deep, and she kisses him back like a sunbeam.

And though his brain is barely coping with finally, finally having Chrissy Cunningham’s mouth on his mouth, he's becoming rapidly aware that they are still standing in the doorway of the trailer. 

“Would you like to- to come inside?” he asks as she softly sucks his lower lip. Chrissy nods, and he pulls her in and shuts the door. “Um, I have, I have water and coffee, I think, and maybe juice, I don’t know if Wayne went to the market yet, but if you’re thirsty I can-“

Chrissy cuts him off. “I’m not thirsty, Eddie,” she says with an unfamiliar, deeper note in her voice, staring at his lips and running her hands under the back of his T-shirt. 

His throat goes dry, his skin erupting in furious tingles wherever her fingers trace – oh Jesus she’s touching his front now, smoothing her palms up to his chest, and what the fuck is he supposed to do with that?

“If you want, could I- could I see your room?” she asks him, the same – yes, he will say it, sexy – voice as before, but a little shy, and it is, once again, a melting-brain situation. 

He nods and kisses her again again again, arms winding around her waist in a soft hug before taking her hand and leading her down the narrow corridor to his – oh no, fucking filthy – bedroom, kicking the door behind them. 

It is, predictably, a mess of discarded clothing, screwed up paper, magazines, loose cigarettes, several cups in various states of emptiness, and he only has one pillow, and that blanket has seen better days, and Chrissy is running her hands over his back, she’s tugging him around to face her, she’s rocking up on her tip toes and there’s her tongue again. 

He shuffles awkwardly back onto the unmade bed, sitting down when his legs hit the mattress, and he must be dying, must be dead, because Chrissy is climbing onto his lap and lifting off her top to reveal, in full, the lacy white bra he had tried to pretend he couldn’t detect through the cotton. 

She cups his face and pecks his lips and grabs his wrists and moves his hands from the bed back to her waist. “You can touch me, Eddie,” she says, and it’s the single most erotic thing he’s ever heard in two decades of life. 

He brushes her bare skin and she shivers – god, he hopes his hands aren’t too cold – and moves up to slip her bra straps down her shoulders, and now there is very little keeping her breasts from being fully exposed. He pulls down one cup and he can’t help it, he really can’t – he bends to take her dusky pink nipple into his mouth, licking it experimentally before giving it a gentle suck. And his instincts are apparently spot on, because Chrissy’s hands fly to the back of his head, and he does it again, and then he does it to the other one, and his hands are tracing the soft skin of her thighs and her back, and her hips start to shift and rock as she breathes out his name. 

Can she feel that he’s hard? Because he is. Achingly so, he realises, his erection pushing uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans. He needs to relieve the tension, needs to grab her ass and lift her up and get his dick out and then put her back down again, right on top, slip inside her and let her rock herself back and forth until she comes, and he comes, and they live happily ever after. 

He doesn’t do that – instead, he fumbles down between them to try and get his fly undone, except his hands are too big and shaking and he can’t seem to twist the button the right way and this is a fucking nightmare. But Chrissy just giggles, the sound clear like a bell ringing, and slips her own fingers under his. She undoes the button easily, pulling down his zipper and sliding her hand over his hard cock oh my god. 

He must moan or something because she keeps smiling and does it again, pulling down the band of his boxers to get her palm around him. She’s stroking him up and down, grinning against his mouth, and he should do something, right? Should be touching her back, should be doing something other than falling apart in ecstasy. 

He moves his hands from where they’ve been glued to her hips and traces up her inner thigh, brushes the front of her panties (also lace, it feels like – a matching set???). Then he feels a damp spot and almost passes out. That means she’s wet – what they are doing is making her wet. She rocks forward against his fingers again, making this little needy humming sound. 

“Please, Eddie, I want it,” she murmurs into his mouth as she kisses him and strokes him and presses their bodies even tighter together, and he thinks he’s getting the hint. 

He rubs her through the lace, dragging the damp fabric over the spot underneath, and her eyelashes flutter. Uh huh, she says, almost involuntary, almost a nod. So he keeps doing it, trying to focus and not look down at her pretty little fingers with their pink nail polish wrapped around his dick. 

But after a few minutes of bliss, his own hand begins to cramp and he slips his fingers under the elastic,  says against her mouth, “Can I take these off?” 

Chrissy quickly clambers off his lap and stands in front of him, bringing his fingers to the sides of her underwear, helping him drag them down her smooth thighs and skinny legs – and he can’t help himself again because it’s all basically eye level, so he rests his head against her stomach and kisses her there and he wants to kiss her lower, wants to lick his way between her thighs and make her shake and say his name again. 

“Can I- can I? With my mouth…” he says haltingly, brain thoroughly useless at this point. But it’s not like he has much experience to go off, anyway – has no idea what he’s supposed to say. 

Chrissy blushes scarlet from her forehead to the tips of her breasts and nods. “Ok, ok, uh... lie down,” he tells her, and he’s never been more thankful for being barefoot, because now would be the worst time to have to unlace his Docs or his Reeboks, and instead all he has to do is pull off his T-shirt and his jeans and his boxers and then he’s naked and he looks up and Chrissy is shimmying out of her skirt and unhooking her bra and then she’s naked too. 

Not only is she naked, but she is lying back against his one disgusting pillow and looking up at him, nervous, excited, but overall fucking joyful – and it occurs to him that this is the absolute pinnacle of his existence so far. 

So he eases her legs apart and begins kissing her thighs, where his fingers had traced before, and she shivers again and gulps as he gets closer and closer to where she’s so hot and wet. God, he wants to make her come so badly. 

He tries to remember what he’s read, what he’s seen, what he’s heard. He spreads her with his thumbs, licks up the centre, brushes what must be her clit because she lets out a shocked little sound when he does it, so he does it again and she squeaks.

He tries to form some kind of rhythm, and she starts panting, gasping, “Eddie, don’t tease me.” 

Shit, fuck, was he? Is that what he was doing? And what is he supposed to do next?? Well, there's really only one option; he closes his lips over her clit and sucks, trying to keep flicking the same spot the same way as before, and Chrissy lets out a sound that is halfway between a scream and a moan. She buries her fingers in his hair again, holding him in place while she grinds up against his mouth. It’s so hot he can’t stop pressing his dick into the mattress.

He keeps it up, and soon she starts shaking again and chanting Eddie, Eddie, Eddie and then his face feels very wet because she’s coming, Jesus Christ. She’s got his name in her mouth and his mouth on her pussy, and he’s making Chrissy Cunningham come, and this is – without doubt – the best of all possible worlds. 

He’s about five seconds from coming himself, if he’s honest. She tugs on his hair slightly and he pulls away, mouth and chin shiny, looking up at her. 

Chrissy is red-faced, her hair a tangled halo, muscles lax, every part of her screaming afterglow. 

She’s fucking radiant.

“Eddie, that was… I’ve never done that before,” she turns away all shy, and he shimmies up and settles himself between her legs, so they are chest to chest. 

“Neither have I,” he says, tilting her chin up to kiss her, and she looks surprised for a second before winding her arms around his shoulders and whispering, “Do you want to…?” 

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Except… “Condom?” God, could he be any more blunt? Stupid, so dumb.

“In my skirt,” Chrissy says into his neck, and Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. She really wanted this, planned for it, even – as if the love bite she’s currently sucking over his thundering pulse wasn’t evidence enough of that. 

He blindly reaches down, fumbles for the pocket amongst the corduroy, and grabs the shiny metallic square. 

“Uh, I’ll just be a second,” he says awkwardly, kissing her nose as he sits back on his knees. Jesus, his dick really is front and centre like this. He’s definitely blushing, and his hands shake slightly as he focuses on ripping the package open and rolling the Latex down. If Chrissy notices how nervous he is, she doesn’t show it – she just looks at his hard-on and licks her lips and then bites them and looks up at him again through her eyelashes, and god it’s so sexy this whole thing will probably only last a minute. 

He leans forward, lining them up, watching Chrissy’s face to stop himself squeezing his eyes shut as he slides inside her for the first time. She’s biting her lip again, and breathing heavily, and he forgot to ask her if she’s ever done this part before – but of course she has, right? It’s him that’s the clueless virgin.

She’s cupping his face as he’s buried within her. “Kiss me, Eddie,” she says, so soft and sweet his heart might break again, and so he does. “You can move,” she whispers, and then – marvellously! – adds, “You feel good.”

“Yeah?” he says back, keenly aware of how little he’s spoken while they’ve been doing this – uncharacteristically so. Usually he can’t just fucking shut up, but apparently sex is the exception that proves the rule. Does she wish he was talking more? Should he work on that? 

“It’s so good, Eddie,” Chrissy smiles. “You’re so good.” 

And oh, that’s doing it for him. What an egomaniac he’s turned out to be. 

“You’re so good, you’re so beautiful Chrissy, I feel like I’m going to die,” he stammers, and she huffs out a giggle and says, “Not yet,” as she rubs their noses together.

He starts to move, experimentally, trying to keep it slow, trying not to hitch her knees up and just pound her into the bed. It’s so overwhelming, he’s right on the edge already, desperately trying to hang on and make it good for her. He leans back and wedges his hand between them, thumbing her clit in time with his thrusts, and she’s moaning softly again, her head back and eyes shut. 

It’s too much – he can’t stop watching his cock disappear inside her, watching her perfect, perfect tits jiggle and bounce with every movement, her lovely face, still blushing pink with a sheen of sweat from the orgasm he gave her, a second ago, when she was riding his face and coming, so wet and hot all over him, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie… 

Oh no. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m going to come” – the words fall out as he speeds up and just fucking disintegrates, just shatters apart, buries his face in her neck as he moans like it’s being ripped out of him. 

Moments pass. Consciousness returns. He’s dimly aware he’s panting, his probably extremely annoying heavy breaths hitting her soft skin. But she’s stroking his hair, running her fingernails over his scalp, and he must be in heaven; he’s ascended to the fucking astral realm, because he can’t remember ever being so content. 

He lifts his face and nuzzles her nose with his nose again. “That was… uh, that was great,” he says lamely, adding a sheepish, “Fast – but great.” 

Chrissy giggles, and he can feel the vibrations through her body into his. 

“I’ve had faster,” she winks, adding, “But, um, that was the most fun I’ve ever had, doing that, so…” 

“Well, that is the goal,” Eddie grins, pressing another soft kiss to her cheek and reaching a hand up to tuck a tendril of golden hair behind her ear. 

“What now?” he asks. 

“Oh,” replies Chrissy with a fond smile. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” 

#hellcheer #eddissy #first-time fic writer #crippling fear

[nikofortuna]

JTTW Chapter 30 Thoughts

Chapter 30 for the @journeythroughjourneytothewest Reading Group!

So this fiend is pretty smart to deduce the situation this quickly and accurately.

I do wonder if Baihua Xiu has ever asked to visit her parents sometime. The fact that her husband said “Why do you still think only of your parents […]” makes me believe she might be talking about them at least once in a while. Though in all seriousness it is only natural for her to miss them and you can’t get by with only a single person to rely on for social interaction. Does she even have any friends? No human ones, I’m pretty sure about that.

Ah domestic abuse, not cool buddy. It appears this was the first time he did something like that, but he better take action to make amends and that it never repeats.

And he does take action, that’s a good start. Nevertheless the mere fact that she doesn’t feel like she can openly talk with her husband already shows that this marriage isn’t all that. She’s putting up a front from what we’ve seen and heard thus far.

Now it wouldn’t surprise me if Baihua Xiu thought ‘Damn, why can’t he change into this form more often.’.

Oooh, foreshadowing in what is deemed a tall tale, very clever on the writer’s part!

Though how can the king believe this so easily? He has the letter from his daughter after all, which tells a whole different story!

I do very much appreciate that the poem said ‘tiger scary, but also really cool’!

Awww, Bailong Ma called Sun Wukong his Big Brother! While calling the other two by their nicknames, we can clearly see who he’s more attached to.

Also hey, the horse is doing something for a change!

That combat poem is a bit confusing in which line belongs to which individual. I think the first of every pair of lines refers to the demon and the second to the dragon until “The silver dragon flew and danced; The yellow demon flipped and flopped.” when it becomes the other way around for the last two pairs of lines.

While Zhu Bajie is still cowardly here, he is not without reason. After all it already showed that he can’t win on his own, so getting backup is the best course of action.

Though insulting the horse, who has shown greater initiative than him this Arc. Tsk, tsk.

Hehe, he totally forgot Bailong Ma was a dragon, didn’t he?

Once again, awww! Makes sense Bailong Ma would vouch for Sun Wukong like that. He likely took great care of the horse all this time after all.

I do really enjoy stories making use of unique character traits and anatomy.

Sun Wukong really said ‘Where’s your business card?’.

HA! Cloud-scraper instead of skyscraper, now that got a laugh out of me!

Very wise of Zhu Bajie to go with the local cuisine. Something people should do in general if they travel to a different place. It brings new experiences and if you are so clever as to go out of your way to see where the locals dine you tend to get the best and tastiest version of said experience.

#xiyouji #journey to the west #jttw #sun wukong #monkey king #zhu wuneng #zhu bajie #bai longma #Yellow Robe Demon #Baihua Xiu #jttw reading group #jttw book club

[literary-illuminati]

Books I Read In August

38. When the Tiger Came Down The Mountain by Nghi Vo

I’m an increasingly big fan of Vo’s work. The Empress of Salt and Fortune was good, but honestly didn’t really stick with me nearly as much as this did. 

Part of that is just the increased centrality of the framing device, honestly. I mean first of all I don’t really tend to have much patience for wish-fulfillment characters, but very hard to overstate how much Chih is just living the dream life (and my university indoctrination was thorough enough that the association of the study/preservation/gathering of history and sacredness seems very right and fitting to me. 

Also, I just absolutely adore when the story makes a thing of unreliable narrators. Like, when someone’s telling a story and as the scene’s ending someone else interrupts and goes “You’re telling it all wrong!” and gives a completely different version that’s at least as biased in another direction? Poetry. 

The actual myth with the lesbian romance and the were-tiger warlord and stuff was also a lot of fun don’t get me wrong, but like, would have been a bit forgettable without the framing device stuff around it. 

Anyway, give Chih a tv show. Or at least a half dozen more novellas like this. 

39. Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky

This is the first actual full book of poetry I’ve read….I mean ever, probably, if we’re taking cover to cover. Certainly since I finished high school. So there’s some Culture achieved. 

I was…not especially impressed, if I’m being entirely honest? Or, properly - “We Lived Happily During The War '' and “In A Time of Peace '' were both really affecting, but also I had already read both (posted here on tumblr, actually). They’re what sold me on the book. Everything between them did, well, not really live up to it?

I mean, I’m sure that there’s all manner of genius in craft and stuff that flew right over my head, but it just seemed so focused on being clever with line breaks that it failed to do much else. Like, most of the books on the list have plenty of lines that are more poetic by my (doubtlessly irredeemably philistine) definition than any of the poems that made up the middle of the book. 

40. The Yiddish Policemen’s Union by Michael Chabon

I honestly forget where I first heard about this book, but it’s been very vaguely sitting on my mental tbr list for the last few years,and the library happened to have it in, so. 

Anyway, the conceit (an alternate history where WW2 went slightly differently, and also Israel lost in 1947, and through a bunch of political compromises there ended up being an autonomous federal district carved out in Alaska as a temporary national home for the Jewish people - ‘temporary’ meaning expiring on the near year as the novel takes place) is just fascinating, and Chabon had a lot of fun with little offhand references to how different the rest of the world has gotten, too. The fact that everyone speaks Yiddish but with occasional catch phrases and curses called out as being said in American was cute, too.

The story itself was just incredibly, almost painfully noir - genius of a police detective with a ruined marriage, crippling alcoholism, and no future is woken up in the middle of the night because a heroin addict who boards in the same hotel as him was found dead by gunshot, discovers that the victim was the firstborn son of a prominent underworld/religious authority, disowned and ostracized for being gay, through this he stumbles into a sinister conspiracy involving the CIA and the death of his sister. He can’t stop the conspiracy but he might just be able to get justice for the murder, etc, etc. The commitment to the genre is fun,but the late night diners and descriptions of hangovers do begin to get old eventually.

It was also kind of dated, in an interesting way? Like, the Federal government spooks being clean cut bible college boys, all polite and well mannered and sincere Christian Zionists trying to get America into a war to help bring about the End Times, really feels like the sort of thing that only gets written during the Bush Administration. (The single tragic too-good-for-the-world dead heroine addict gay guy and the constant jokes about every less-than-perfectly-feminine woman being mistaken for a lesbian, also somewhat dated).

Anyway, think my vocabulary of random Yiddish words about doubled from reading this, and also many themes about Judaism that I am not even slightly qualified to comment on. 

41: Rogue Protocol by Martha Wells

This books are so fun. And just about perfectly bite-sized, too.

Or tv episode sized, really - each has about the perfect amount of plot for an hour long episode of network tv, I think. Pity they’re basically unadaptable. 

Anyway, not too much to say about this, really, except that Murderbot’s complete inability to understand their own emotions would probably be annoying by now if it wasn’t so funny, and reading it really left a grin on my face. 

Or well, also, I do really enjoy all the little hints that the ‘corporate rim’ is actually kind of a galactic shithole, and Murderbot just treats it like the hegemonic default because its all they know. Certainly nowhere else seems to be nearly as bad about synthetic life (nowhere’s exactly good either, mind, but).

42. Radiance by Catherynne Valente

Oh I adored this book. 

I mean in large part because I’m a big fan of Valente’s prose when she gets all grandiloquent, and also the basic aesthetic of the setting (High Victorian Space Age by way of the Golden Age of Hollywood on the moon) is just utter catnip to me. But the whole epistolary pretension, telling the story through interviews after the fact and remaining scraps of documentary footage and different drafts of a dramatization made a decade latter that are each completely different genres and occasional clips of Severin’s previous films? 

It’s all just showing off to an incredible degree and I’m sure if I didn’t love the book I’d find it unbearably pretentious, but I do, so it’s absolutely great. 

The amateur historian in me was kind of irked by the sort of political stasis - it does the fallout thing where the fin de siecle kind of just continues uninterrupted for another fifty years bit with stranger and more wondrous tech, the apocalypse of the Great War put off by all the virgin lands to colonize and everything just kind of continuing as it was (except for the development of the film industry). But that’s kind of a theme. (Much more minorly, the world only seems to have gotten weird in the late 19th century, except that there are sovereign and internationally significant Seneca and Iroquois nations that get mentioned several times, which kind of require a fundamental change to the nature of the American state significantly before then.) 

The ending also didn’t really land for me - anything about infinite multiverses honestly makes it difficult for me to stay invested, and anything where the fictional setting tries to encompass/include the ‘real world’ almost always loses me instantly (qualified exception for actual portal fantasy, if it’s good. But introducing the real world in the third act has basically only ever worked for me exactly once).

Which is a pity, because aside from those bits the ending could have been designed to appeal to me in a lab. Was so close to perfection. 

43. How to Invent Everything by Ryan North 

I took a three week break in the middle, so this technically took me a full calendar month to read. Library was getting pretty angry. 

Anyway, I think I said it before but I stand by it  - this book would be a significant improvement over the majority of currently existing middle/high school science curriculums. (In the same way that Magic School Bus and Bill Nye taught me more than science class ever did until high school (and even then)). 

Anyway, did pick up a lot of interesting trivia, and the author is apparently the dinosaur comics guy(?), which really shows through in the writing (not ALL the jokes come anywhere close to landing, but the ones that don’t are mostly dad-joke like enough that it’s kind of endearing). 

Also learned the exact limits of my understanding in (in decreasing order of) mechanical engineering, electricity, and computers. (I really do need someone to gently take me by the hand at some point and explain how basic logic gates doing addition and subtraction ends up with, well, tumblr, or triple A video games, or any of it. Like on a mechanical level.) 

Anyway, I should take up sewing. And write the half-essay floating around my head about how horrible mines are and how morally uncomfortable that is.

44. Stiff: The Curious Life of Human Cadavers, by Mary Roach

Okay I forget who on here recommended this to me, but thanks! Was a ton of fun, great light morbid summer read.

Roach has a great sort of chatty style, and she does the thing I normally rather dislike working personal anecdotes and descriptions of people she interviewed into everything, but she honestly actually makes it work. 

It came out in the early 2000s and was endearingly dated at times, and vaguely racist in a ‘the strange and exotic Orient!’ way at others, but like generally mostly holds up, I think? 

It’s not nearly as difficult a read as you’d expect given the subject matter (‘the human corpse, how it decays, and things we do to it’, essentially). Or, well,that might me a be mostly a me thing, but I found it a trove of fun trivia, anyway. 

(The one exception being the section on the history of the pursuit of the human head transplant, and specifically the animal experiments done on the subject. That made me more queasy than anything I can remember reading recently, which is I suppose a useful thing to know about myself.)

#monthly tally #book review #analysis/review #when the tiger came down the mountain #nghi vo #Deaf Republic #ilya kaminsky #The Yiddish Policemen's Union #michael chabon #rogue protocol #Murderbot #Martha Wells #Radiance #Catherynne Valente #How to Invent Everything #Ryan North #Stiff #Mary Roach

[goshdangronpa]

So, anyone want an overanaylsis of the Jabberwock Park statue?

Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!

- Lewis Carroll, "Jabberwocky"

(oh gosh this actually needs a read more)

The setting of Super Danganronpa 2 is called Jabberwock Island, a reference to Lewis Carroll's classic quest poem. Are we to assume that this statue in the central island is based on that story?

Then perhaps each animal in the statue - and, by extension, the Monobeasts - represent the beasts that Carroll mentions.

The tiger maybe the Jabberwock itself, the one creature that can definitely be said to have "jaws that bite" and "claws that catch." That may be why Usami defeats it first: the hero of the poem heeds his father's advice to "shun" the others, single-mindedly focusing on the Jabberwock.

The eagle must be the Jubjub bird.

That leaves the snake as the Bandersnatch.

Now here's where things get strange. There's no mention of a horse in "Jabberwocky." What is present is the word "galumph" ("he went galumphing back") - a term Carroll invented for the poem, likely a combination of "gallop" and "triumph." This suggests the presence of a horse. (It could also just be embellishment for the statue - if you're gonna have a knight, might as well give him a steed.)

There's no gorilla in "Jabberwocky," either. Helpfully, the DR fan wiki points out that the Gorilla Mecha is the only Monobeast to feature a piece of the original statue: the crested helmet of the knight. The gorilla is not a monster from "Jabberwocky," but the story's hero.

That last one, I think, is the key to the statue's symbolic significance. This beautiful work of art based on another beautiful work of art is transformed into weapons - into obstacles that imprison and demoralize the castaways of Jabberwock Island. In other words, it's corrupted.

Like how Monokuma turns Magical Girl Usami into the diaper-wearing punching bag Monomi. Like how the Junko AI virus turns the therapeutic mind-vacation of the Neo World Program into a harrowing killing school trip. Like how Junko herself turned the more-or-less good people of Class 77-B into the doomsday architects known as Ultimate Despair.

Allow me to spiral even further! Evil is not a creative force. It corrupts that which already exists, twisting it to insidious ends. It's why alt-right creeps co-opt social justice language to push anti-social justice ideology (once you notice, you'll see it everywhere). It's why abusive people tend to talk most about the importance of love, loyalty, and the duties we have to each other. It's why devils manipulate the truth, and why they use our greater aspirations to bring out our worst sides ...

And so these only slightly more than ordinary high school students must take on a great quest. Nothing so simple as defeating the Monobeasts, but also defeating the corruption of Jabberwock Island and - eventually - the corruption within themselves.

All this from an image that's only around for the very beginning of the first chapter! I think this game's pretty well-written.

#danganronpa #super danganronpa 2 #sdr2 #goodbye despair #jabberwock island #jabberwocky #literary allusions (references) can be so great

[pancakeis]

Analysis of Tian Ya Ke Lyrics

(line-by-line with literary references and context)

Analysis: Weibo user 认真看剧的打字机器 (original Weibo post)

Translation: keishi, first posted on Twitter @_keikaku

Full text is also available here. Long post warning!

Tian Ya Ke, being Word of Honor’s ending theme, has appeared in many important scenes throughout the show. Moreover, the lyrics were penned by the script writer herself, thus it can best express the show’s overarching idea, much worthy of a detailed analysis.

[Part 1 - ZZH] 

天苍苍事了功成渡寒江 Under the grey sky, I crossed the cold river as the job was done

Meaning: The deep blue sky was vast and endless, ZZS’s service as Tianchuang’s leader under King Jin had come to an end, and he was about to cross the cold river to leave the Northwest region.

Analysis: “Cold river” points to the river water during the autumn and winter, in this context it points at ZZS leaving the Northwest in a very cold and harsh winter. A line from Jet Li’s (Li Lianjie) Flying Swords of Dragon Gate can also be aptly quoted here: “A lone silhouette on the cold river, an old friend from jianghu”, which accurately portrays ZZS’s current state.

夜茫茫杯中月影笑荒唐 In the vast night, the moon in my cup laughed at the absurdity

Meaning: The vast darkness of the night, whose ends were nowhere in sight, there was only the reflection of the moon in my cup, laughing at my years of living in absurdity.

Analysis: “The moon’s reflection in my cup” comes from Li Bai’s Drinking Alone Under the Moonlight - First. In this poem, the author experienced an extreme sense of loneliness —— “Pouring out a cup, for no friend or kin” (WKX has also quoted this before), so he decided to take the moonlight and his own shadow as drinking companions, “Raising my cup to invite the moon, with my shadow we made three people”. In the lyrics, the moonlight is personified, purpose is to express ZZS’s solitariness at this point, where he can only find company in wine and the moon, and he mocks himself for self-righteously believing that he was sacrificing for the greater good, while in fact, it was just a preposterous case of feeding himself to the tiger.

谁许我策马江湖闯四方 Who allowed me to gallop off to traverse the world?

Meaning: Who can accompany me to travel the world on our horsebacks?

Analysis: A complement to the solitariness in the upper sentence, lamenting about how there’s no one around ZZS who can accompany him to fulfill his wish of galloping off around the world.

谁醉遍天涯 梦醒不见故乡 Who had travelled to the ends of the world in drunkenness, yet couldn’t face their hometown when sober?

Meaning: I can go to the ends of the world and the corners of the four seas to drink wine, but I can never return to the hometown that I dream of going back to.

Analysis: “Wandering the world, drinking to death” is not in ZZS’s romance, but the last punishment that he gives himself. There’s an old saying, “falling leaves return to their roots”; it’s also a traditional mindset of “even if I’m dying soon, I want to die in my hometown, where my roots are”. Even the most highly regarded, powerful court officials also requested to “bring their bones and ashes back to their hometowns” upon reaching their old ages. Du Fu, the God of Poetry, died on a boat heading back to his hometown. ZZS is aware that the countdown on his life has already begun, so he can’t not be thinking about returning. “Couldn’t face their hometown when sober” actual meaning isn’t “sobering up from the wine”, but rather “only can see the hometown in their dreams”, which hints to us ZZS’s reminiscence of his home. However, ZZS is set on believing that he has let down his teacher/forgone the teachings imparted in him, thus feels ashamed to face Siji Manor. Despite clearly having hometown on his mind always, since the departure from the Northwest, he leaves Kunzhou in the Southwest and heads towards the Southeast (Chengling’s home is located in the now-Zhejiang region). This kind of nomadic life, though the heart yearns for a place he can’t return to, is also one of the final punishments ZZS gives himself.

(Which is also my reasoning against hobo-Xu = freedom… he isn’t just drinking wine… he’s using wine to numb the pain in his flesh and mind…)

Summary of Part 1: The first sentence describes ZZS’s current state, the second sentence describes ZZS’s sorrow about his ideals destroying half of his life, the third describes ZZS’s loneliness, the fourth describes his yearning for home.

(Between these three types of emotions, just experiencing one is already torturing enough, yet he’s experiencing all three at once, how can he feel happy…)

[Part 2 - GJ]

西陵下凄秋凉雨吻我窗 Under the dreary autumn sky of Xiling, cold rain kissed my window

Meaning: In the middle of Ghost Valley, there was only desolating autumn rain landing on my window.

Analysis: This sentence comes from Li Shangyin’s The Tomb of Su Xiaoxiao: “Under the Xiling sky, winds blew at the falling rain”.

This poem by Li Shangyin was one of his “ghost poems”. Through the imagery of Su Xiaoxiao’s tomb, he drew up a series of strange illusions, portraying the beautiful yet fleeting ghost of Su Xiaoxiao, thus creating a resplendent but ghostly atmosphere. It bodes well with Wen Kexing’s image in the Ghost Valley: an outstanding beauty with dark and terrifying aura. And although Wen Kexing sits at the highest position of power, there is only the cold autumn rain knocking on his window, illustrating his inner feelings of loneliness and desolation.

(T/N: The author, whose writings were dubbed as “ghost poems” was actually Li He, a poet from mid-Tang dynasty, and not Li Shangyin, a poet from late-Tang. Likely a typo on OP’s part.)

任人憎任人谤 未妨惆怅是清狂 Let people hate, let people slander; but perhaps melancholic “clear madness” will do no harm

Meaning: No matter how others hated me, slandered me, I always persisted with my own desire, without a care for people who said that I was obsessed.

Analysis: “But perhaps melancholic ‘clear madness’ will not do any harm” comes from Li Shangyin’s Untitled Twin Poems. The full line reads, “You may say that it is completely futile to be lovesick; But perhaps melancholic ‘clear madness’ will not do any harm”. However in this context, this part has no relation to lovesickness; we must interpret it in tandem with the former part in the lyrics “let people hate, let people slander”. It conveys WKX’s mental state during his time in Ghost Valley: although hated or slandered by the so-called righteous sects, WKX has never quite cared, and in a state of near-obsession, he step-by-step makes preparations to avenge his parents. Despite deeply knowing that in doing so, he will end up sacrificing himself/can’t step away when it ends, he still wants to go absolute bonker, using the complete destruction of jianghu as a way to return justice to his parents.

春风吹得绿江南水岸 吹不暖人心霜 Spring breezes blew greens to the banks of Jiangnan river; couldn’t blow warmth to a frosted heart

Meaning: Spring winds could bring back luscious nature, but couldn’t melt the frost and coldness in my heart.

Analysis: The first half comes directly from Wang Anshi’s Anchoring At Guazhou. The poem continues, “when would the bright moon shine on my way back home”. Here, the “spring breezes” refers to the spring day of WenZhou meeting, at which point WKX’s heart is still a block of icy frost, but in actuality, he begins to yearn for a bright moon to bring him home, thus the latter half in the lyrics.

猝不及防 那是不是我们的光 Taken by surprise, could that be our light?

Analysis: The bright moon whom WKX yearns for, the bright moon who will bring him home, right on that spring day in the 27th year of his life, he comes in all glowing light, and barges into WKX’s world unannounced.

Summary of Part 2: The first sentence describes WKX’s current state, the second sentence describes WKX’s mental state, the third sentence describes WKX’s yearnings, the fourth sentence describes the effect of WenZhou’s first meeting on WKX.

[Part 3 - GJ]

相见恨晚幸未晚 不再辜负四季花 Hate that we couldn’t meet sooner, happy that it wasn’t too late. Flowers of four seasons no longer bloomed in vain

Analysis: WKX meets ZZS well into his adulthood, at the age where most people celebrate early life achievements, so it can’t be considered late. The fortunate part is, he meets ZZS where he considers to be “near the end of his life”. He then finds his own redemption and is able to live on, that’s why “it wasn’t too late”. “Flowers of four seasons” refers to the beautiful sceneries of Siji Manor: “Spring bathes in a sea of azalea, summer appreciates blooming phoenix flowers, autumn comes with wafting red osmanthus fragrance, winter beholds snow-like plum blossoms”. It also signifies WKX slowly letting go of his obsession to destroy the world after meeting ZZS, breaking free from his vengeance, and learning to admire the everchanging sceneries of four seasons along the journey of living – from then on, the beauty of ever-blooming flowers along the path of life shall not go unnoticed. And it marks the development from “as long as I can burn down this murky water of a martial world and its so-called righteous sects, there’s nothing that I can’t risk” mindset to “as long as we let go of vengeance, we are alive and living”.

将古道西风瘦马 换小桥流水人家 Trade away the old road, autumn winds and scrawny horse, for a small bridge, running stream and a home of nestling

Analysis: This line comes from Ma Zhiyuan’s To the Tune of “Tian Jing Sha”: Autumn Thoughts. Its meaning complements “Flowers of four seasons no longer bloomed in vain”, referring to WKX’s change of heart after meeting ZZS, from a painful and desolating “thin horse trudging on an old road in the autumn winds” to a warm and lively “nestling homes over a small bridge by a running stream”.

(T/N: Tian Jing Sha (lit. Sky-Clear Sand) is the name of the tune to which this qu poem is composed (曲牌名 qubaiming), that is to say, in an oral performance, this poem is intended to be recited with the rhythm and melody of Tian Jing Sha. The english for this line is rehashed from Andrew Wong’s translation.)

Summary of Part 3: In the first sentence, WKX expresses his good fortune of having met ZZS, through which his life is no longer engulfed by vengeance. In the second sentence, he describes the change of heart after meeting ZZS.

(Plainly speaking, he’s just declaring his love to ZZS: “only after meeting you that I realise how important you are to me”)

(…Okay, enough already Wen-ge)

[Part 4 - ZZH]

万里河山万家灯 往事如烟浪淘沙 A thousand miles of rivers and mountains, a thousand lights of homes. The past went up in smokes, washed away like sands

Analysis: “A thousand miles of rivers and mountains” comes from Xin Qiji’s To the Tune of “Qing Ping Yue”: Sleeping Alone in the Wangs’ Hut under Mt. Bo, referring to the vastness of the world. “A thousand lights of homes” is from the Qing dynasty’s novel A Flower In A Sinful Sea by Zeng Pu. Here’s the full line: “A thousand lights of homes, a path lined with songs of the flute”, describing the warm scenes of houses lighting up one after another as the night falls.

“Lang Tao Sha” (lit. waves washing away sands) is the tune title. I initially thought it refers to “great waves washing off the sands”, but the meaning of this phrase is “to stand the test of ferocious battles”, which clearly doesn’t match the context. So I made a bold guess that Liu Yuxi’s Lang Tao Sha was quoted here: “With many turns the Yellow River flows with sands from afar; Coming from the sky's edge, the wind-blown rolling waves never stay”. This matches the sentiment expressed in “(the past has) gone up in smokes” to convey the idea of “no going back”, like muddy sands swept away by the past.

In this line, ZZS is consoling WKX, telling him to treasure the beautiful sceneries and the warmth, homeliness of the mortal realm. Let bygones be bygone, don’t torment yourself over the past.

将平生霜雪 与君煮酒烹茶 Use my life’s worth of frost and snow to warm wine and brew tea with you

Analysis: Wine is warmed by submerging a flask of wine in a hot water bath. This scene took place once before, when WenZhou were at the Siji Manor. Tea brewing is exactly how it’s normally done. However, both of these activities are considered refined hobbies to be enjoyed in the tea stove I brought along; A life free of worries was a hundred years well-spent”. In Dream of the Red Mansion Part 41, as Miaoyu was making tea for Baoyu, Daiyu asked, “Is this rain water from last year?” Miaoyu sneered, “A person like you is such a boor, that you can’t even differentiate water when you taste it. This is snow collected from the plum blossom, when I was at the Panxiang temple in like the heroes i It’s apparent that despite being “rootless water”, melted snow is considered a grade aboThree Kingdoms, drinking warm wine with green plums. ZZS is expressing his desire to live rainaater.20the use of melted snow to make tea would greatly enhance the elegance and appeals of this lifestyle.

Yet, to warm the wine and brew the tea with “my life’s worth of frost and snow” just adds a whole other layer to the depth of emotions. There’s a saying, “good tea must be brewed in good water”. Which water is the purest, the most elegant of them all? The ancients believed that crystal-clear and sweet water was of the highest quality. Tea brewed from water that has once been frozen yields an extraordinary taste. In Bai Juyi’s Rising Late: After A Morning’s Slumber, “Melting snow to brew fragrant tea, melting butter to make porridge”. Lu You wrote in Tea After Snow: “Sweet and clear liquid snow filled my well, simply brewed with the tea stove I brought along; A life free of worries was a hundred years well-spent”. In Dream of the Red Mansion Part 41, as Miaoyu was making tea for Baoyu, Daiyu asked, “Is this rain water from last year?” Miaoyu sneered, “A person like you is such a boor, that you can’t even differentiate water when you taste it. This is snow collected from the plum blossom, when I was at the Panxiang temple in Xuanmu five years ago.” It’s apparent that despite being “rootless water”, melted snow is considered a grade above rain water. Surely the use of melted snow to make tea would greatly enhance the elegance and appeals of this lifestyle.

(This is definitely the stuff that ZZS they all would do… This kind of thing, you couldn’t do it unless you were rich… Except them, who would take time learning this stuff… The common people were already happy to have drinkable water…)

However, ZZS saying this isn’t meant to express his hope for a future life, and definitely not to express self-reconciliation. Because he can’t reconcile with the past, he decisively sticks the nails into his own body, straight until WKX appears, under WKX’s encouragement and gentleness (*noisiness*), that a spark of hope for a future life is ignited within ZZS, kickstarting the process of self-reconciliation. The past which hardens inside his heart like frost and snow, slowly melts away in the warm and beautiful life with WKX, to the extent that ZZS can even joke about it.

Summary of Part 4: In the first sentence, ZZS is convincing WKX to reconcile with the world; in the second sentence, ZZS shows reconciliation with his own self.

[Part 5 - GJ]

芳草长烟波流云映斜阳 Flourishing grass enshrouded in misty waves. Dusky light reflected on floating clouds

Analysis: This line is from Fan Zhongyan’s Waterbag Dance (trans. Xu Yuanchong): 

Clouds veil emerald sky, leaves strewn in yellow dye.  Waves rise in autumn hue, and blend with mist cold and green in view.  Hills steeped in slating sunlight, sky and waves seems one; Unfeeling grass grows sweet beyond the setting sun.

The conveyed meaning is, the sky is painted an emerald shade, yellow foliage covers the ground, the colours of autumn stretch from the horizon to the water, and the chilly, green fog seemingly weaves itself into the water. The distant hills bathe in the dusky sun; the sky and the river meld together. The grass, who understands not the pain of homesickness, grows far beyond the edges of the twilight sky. Going back to the lyrics, we can see that “grass” and “misty waves” indicate an autumn atmosphere, whereas “floating clouds” and “dusky light” refer to sunset. In short, this line paints us the scenery of an evening sky in autumn.

If we impose this layer of meaning onto the drama’s storyline, this should tell us WKX’s emotions after he has fallen in love with ZZS (WKX himself has said this): “The setting sun is ceaselessly beautiful; what a pity that it’s too close to dusk.” Although the autumn sunset is beautiful, soon the winter night will settle in, taking away any lingering warmth of the daylight. What WKX means is, his time together with ZZS is beautiful, but once ZZS finds out WKX’s real identity —— the Leader of Ghost Valley —— this happiness will inevitably come to the end, and ZZS might never forgive him.

问何处仙乡 蝴蝶为骨玉为梁 You ask where my hometown is. I come from butterfly bones and virtues of jades

Analysis: “仙乡” xianxiang is the formal way of addressing one’s hometown. This is basically a question to WKX, asking where he comes from. “Butterfly bones” refers to WKX’s mother, while “virtues of jades” refers to WKX’s father.

Summary of Part 5: In the first sentence, WKX likens his time spent by ZZS’s side to the hours before dusk, beautiful but inevitable. ZZS will walk away the moment WKX’s true identity is revealed, abandoning him in the darkness of the cold winter. In the second sentence, WKX reveals his true origin.

[Part 6 - ZZH]

你一肩担不尽万古愁 不如分我几两 Your shoulders couldn’t bear the weight of eternal sorrow. Why not let me carry some

Analysis: Confronted by WKX’s many worries, ZZS hopes that he can open up his heart, ZZS is willing to share his burdens. Selected lines from episode 22: “I am helping you”, “I will come with you to seek revenge from Zhao Jing”, to the persuasion in episode 24, then again in episode 27: “The only way for you to step into Siji Manor today, is over my dead body”, and straight to episode 32: “Save your breaths” —— ZZS has always used actions to tell WKX this.

(President ZZS of the Care For WKX’s Mental Health Association is online)

陪君醉 三万场 从此不言离殇 Thirty thousand drinks, I’d accompany you. From here on, we’d never bid farewell

Meaning: As long as you’re willing to, we could spend our lives drinking all of the good wines in the world together. From here on, we would never part. 

Analysis: ZZS is consoling WKX, and at the same time making a promise: “I will never leave, I will gladly accompany you drinking to your heart’s content”. Originating from Su Shi’s To the Tune of “Nan Xiang Zi”: With Yang Yuansu, At My Transference to Mizhou, the full line reads: 

Dongwu faces Yuhang, yet (we’re) separated by seas of cloud between the sky’s edges;  When I return in glory, we shall laugh and drink for thirty thousand times.

Summary of Part 6: ZZS shows WKX that he’s there to fight by WKX’s side, to share all of WKX’s burdens, and ZZS vows to never leave him.

(Zhou-ge… Wen-ge just declared his love to you earlier, now you’re also declaring your love… I do not understand…)

[Part 7 is a repeat of Part 2]

[Part 8 - GJ]

无边落木萧萧下 不尽长江滚滚来 Boundless greenery sheds leaves. Unending Yangtze courses through its banks

Meaning: The gentle rustling as the thick, boundless greenery sheds its leaves. The roaring torrent as the Yangtze’s waves crash onto each other.  

Analysis: This line comes from Du Fu’s Climbing High, which was also written in the autumn. Both this poem and Waterbag Dance describe an autumn sunset, however its mood completely contrasts Waterbag Dance: the quoted line leans towards the natural observation of which all beings will eventually be replaced by a newer, younger being. Falling leaves evoke melancholic emotions, but it also gives way for the growth of new, young leaves. The sun sets and night befalls, but it also means a new dawn will soon arrive. All objects or beings are no different from the water running through Yangtze river, new waves crashing onto preceding ones with no end in sight. Or like Yang Shen has written:

On and on to the east rolls the Great Yangtze, Burying in its current hordes of gallant men. Right or wrong, shame or glory, all comes to naught. Only the green hills linger, after many a glowing sunset. White-haired men by the river, mind the seasons not; All they care is in the bottle, and meeting with old friends. Stories new and old, come alive in their witty retort.

Both are depicting autumn dusks, both are expressing WKX’s emotions, but the difference is, after being convinced by ZZS, WKX no longer sees autumn as dreary and miserable. With this change of heart and his soulmate’s company, he begins breaking down his own walls to start life anew.

(T/N: the literal title of Yang Shen’s poem is To the Tune of “The Immortals by the River”: Gushing Yangtze River Flows Eastwards, although it seems more commonly referred to by the tune name The Immortals by the River 《临江仙》. English translation by Alice Poon.)

风刀霜剑皆不惧只要你我还在 Fear not the cutting winds or biting frosts, as long as you and I are still here

Meaning: As long as you are by my side and I you, we don’t have to fear any obstacles.

Analysis: “Cutting winds or biting frosts” (lit. winds that cut like a dagger, frosts that strike like a sword) comes from Burying Flower Song, a poem recited in Part 27 of Dream of the Red Mansion: “Three hundreds and sixty days in a year, ravaged by daggers of winds and swords of frost”. In context, this line talks about how a flower is always quashed by cold winds and frosts, which parallels WKX and ZZS facing great dangers everyday. But there is nothing to be afraid of, because “you and I are still here”.

(That’s right… It’s another declaration of love… This time they declare their love to each other…)

(I’m numb.)

[Part 9 - ZZH]

得即高歌失即休 无拘无束亦无碍 Sing aloud for a win, don’t dwell on a loss. A life free of shackles and hindrances

Analysis: “Sing aloud for a win, don’t dwell on a loss” is from Luo Yin’s Self Consolation:

Sing aloud for a win, don’t dwell on a loss Deep in sorrows and hatred, still take it easy. Let’s get drunk today while there’s still wine Tomorrow’s worries can be dealt with tomorrow.

This describes ZZS’s mentality after he has made peace with himself —— liberated, no longer tortured by the past.

但得一知己 慰尽风尘无奈 But to have found a soulmate, is enough to console my helpless sufferings

Analysis: This line originates from Wei Yingwu’s Jian Lu Zhi. The full poem reads:

How pitiful, the Song of White Snow hadn’t found its zhiyin Troubled by military matters, time slipped by on Huaihai shores. Streamside trees hold on to morning dews, mountain birds chirp at spring’s remnants I have a gourd of wine, which is some consolation to all these sufferings.

Wei Yingwu was upset at his own lack of zhiyin, lack of “the one who understands”, so he could only find “consolation to all these sufferings” in wine. In comparison, ZZS is more fortunate, in the sense that he has met his own zhiji, his soulmate, the one who understands him, which is enough of a comfort to all the sufferings he has gone through.

(Plainly speaking, ZZS is just declaring his love, “Only at the point of meeting you who is so perfect, that I can understand, everything I went through was worth it.”)

(Confession, again…)

[Together]

任山高水远 你在我也在 Mountains grow tall, rivers run far. As long as you’re here, so am I

Analysis: “Mountains grow tall, rivers run far” is derived from “mountains grow tall, rivers run long”, conveying longevity and everlastingness. This line refers to WenZhou’s final ending, forever in each other’s company, living on top of Mt. Changming.

Translator’s Notes, Bibliography and Recommended Readings:

Unless cited above, english translations of referenced poems/lines are mine. Most of them are very rough, just to capture the literal meanings. If you spot any mistakes, feel free to reach out to me.

1. Drinking Alone Under the Moonlight - Li Bai

《月下独酌四首》 - 李白

This is a quartet of poems, the cited one is the first of four (其一).

2. The Tomb of Su Xiaoxiao - Li He

《苏小小墓》 - 李贺

Recommended reading: On the auditory depiction of Li He’s “ghostly writing style”, a thesis by Wen Yu.

3. Untitled Twin Poems - Li Shangyin

《无题二首》 - 李商隐

Li Shangyin in fact wrote many untitled poems, and a quick Baidu search shows several results for 无题二首. The referenced set is this one, with translation by Li Zeng, page 211 of this thesis.

4. Anchoring At Guazhou - Wang Anshi

《泊船瓜洲》 - 王安石

Recommended reading: Commentary on Wang Anshi’s Anchoring At Guazhou.

5. To the Tune of “Tian Jing Sha”: Autumn Thoughts - Ma Zhiyuan. Translation by Andrew Wong.

《天净沙 秋思》 - 马致远

Recommended reading: On the visuals and poetic narrative of Autumn Thoughts, How to Read Chinese Poetry: A Guided Anthology, page 334.

6. To the Tune of “Qing Ping Yue”: Sleeping Alone in the Wangs’ Hut under Mt. Bo - Xin Qiji.

《清平乐 独宿博山王氏庵》 - 辛弃疾

7. A Flower In A Sinful Sea - Zeng Pu

《孽海花》 - 曾朴

8. Lang Tao Sha - Liu Yuxi. Translation by Frank C Yue.

《浪淘沙九首》 - 刘禹锡

This is a series of nine poems. The cited line comes from the first of nine (其一). In similar fashion to Tian Jing Sha, because a ci poem is composed to this tune, it’s called a 词牌名 cibaiming. 

9. Rising Late: After A Morning’s Slumber - Bai Juyi

《晚起 烂熳朝眠后》 - 白居易

10. Tea After Snow - Lu You

《雪后煎茶》 - 陆游

11. Dream of the Red Mansion - Cao Xueqin

《红楼梦》 - 曹雪芹

From Part 27, Burying Flower Song 《葬花吟》. It’s a very lengthy poem. Here's one fully translated version. I’d recommend the translation by Herbert A. Gilles, published in A History of Chinese Literature as well (ebook, page 365). The english translation of Hong Lou Meng can be found on Project Gutenberg.

12. To the Tune of “Nan Xiang Zi”: With Yang Yuansu, At My Transference to Mizhou - Su Shi

《南乡子 和杨元素，时移守密州》 - 苏轼

Again, Nan Xiang Zi is tune title/cibaiming. Recommended reading: brief line-by-line explanation - Reddit.

13. Waterbag Dance - Fan Zhongyan 

《苏幕遮》 - 范仲淹

This poem can also be titled To the Tune of “Su Mu Zhe”: Reminiscence (苏幕遮 怀旧) as Su Mu Zhe is another tune title/cibaiming. Translation by Xu Yuanchong, published in Xu Yuanchong Translates 300 Song Dynasty’s Poems (许渊冲译宋词三百首; ebook)

14. Climbing High - Du Fu. Translation.

《登高》 - 杜甫

15. To the Tune of “The Immortals by the River”: Gushing Yangtze River Flows Eastwards - Yang Shen. Translation by Alice Poon.

《临江仙 滚滚长江东逝水》 or 《临江仙》 - 杨慎

16. Self Consolation - Luo Yin

《自遣》 - 罗隐

17. Jian Lu Zhi - Wei Yingwu

《简卢陟》 - 韦应物

Jian Lu Zhi or Note to Lu Zhi is written by Wei Yingwu to his nephew Lu Zhi. Because I had access to the physical copy of In Such Hard Times: The Poetry of Wei Ying-wu (translated by Red Pine), here is an alternative with much more refined wordings taken from the book:

“You still haven’t met someone who knows the touching tune White Snow I worry about you on the march stumbling along Huaihai shores streamside trees are clinging to morning rain wild birds are singing to what is left of spring I have a gourd of wine so big it will wash away the dust of the road.”

Due to the lack of subject in the first line, it is unclear if Wei Yingwu was talking about his nephew’s lack of a bosom friend or his own. Despite the english phrasing, Red Pine noted that it could be referring to both. In the last line, “dust of the road” or 风尘 is a metaphorical way of referring to mortal sufferings.

#word of honor #shan he ling #woh #shl #山河令 #woh meta #tian ya ke #also tagging this under #chinese poetry #long post #translation #just backing up my tls from bird app but coincidentally today is also the 3rd anniversary of WOH script reading!

[silvysartfulness]

Writer meta asks: 3, 19, 20

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway) 

I already answered this one in another post - there’s no special such scene; if I want to write just a standalone scene I’ll do it as a one-shot and imply context and set-up in-writing. But there are scenes I look forward to writing; for the Roadtrip, a lot will go down and shift perspectives all around in the arc I mentally call the Mountains of Mist arc. That’s definitely a bit I have high hopes for!

... Technically the scene I’m supposed to be writing right now has also long been one of the “oh yeah, I’m really looking forward to this one!” bits, except now that I’m actually about to write it, I’m finding myself a bit frozen. Hopefully I’ll be able to push through this block and make it as good as I previously envisioned it...

Oh, no wait! To be honest - there are a few scenes I haven’t managed to find a good place for in the Roadtrip timeline yet, but have been very entertained by in headcanons, and that’s a fair number of WWX and XY interaction scenes!

I don’t know if I’ll manage to work things out enough in the story to make any of that fit, but I have a vivid image of WWX and XY literally bumping into each other at the market street of a random town while departing a liquor stall and candy stall respectively. XY is delighted by the chance meeting and toothily compliments WWX’s reflexes in catching the falling bottles, WWX is mostly “wtf how are you still not dead??” about things. If I can get the timeline to allow for it, it’s a scene I’d still love to write, but we’ll see.

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?) 

Ahaha. I suspect if you do a word count in my writing, you’ll see the word “pain” repeated at somewhat alarming frequency?

I like to describe body language, especially what people are doing with their hands. And eyes, I pay a lot of attention to eyes.

As for tropes, just stamp me with the “redemption arc” stamp and move on. I love, more than anything, characters who have to face their mistakes and go through a painstaking journey of sorting messes out, setting things right. Sometimes willfully, out of a genuine desire to make things better. Sometimes reluctantly or even trying not to, only sullenly agreeing in the end for one well-founded reason or another.

I love to write messy characters, greyscales, heart wrenching situations where both sides are equally wrong and right. Am also absolute sucker for “hard, cold-hearted character, absolutely coming apart at gestures of care and kindness”. That gets me every single time.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Uh-oh. You've done it now. I'll place the rest under a cut, because I can and will talk about this at length.

I already wrote in a previous post about the layers of meaning in my chapter titles, so I'll leave that aside for now.

I love using symbolism and allegories in my writing. There are some obvious ones at first glance – I often refer to Xiao Xingchen as the moon himself, especially from Xue Yang’s point of view (the moon has been one of the few proxies for Xiao Xingchen he’s had for a long time) His inner light, something with beauty and integrity but also phases of both light and dark and the ability to shift inbetweeen, unreadable. The same way I will often use ice and frost to describe Song Lan - ”he realized with frostbite clarity” is a sentence I remember that I liked writing for him.

Xue Yang isn't as clear cut; his themes shifts depending on the pov character – Song Lan thinks of him as serpent-like, and there's a wolf-theme coming up as well. But my main subtle motif for Xue Yang in this story is the tiger. Drawn partly from the obvious angle of him being able to create a Yin Tiger Amulet of his own, as well as wearing clothing with a leopard-spot like pattern in Yi City, and finally Wei Wuxian's comment of ”releasing the tiger back to the mountain” when learning Xue Yang escaped punishment for the Chang massacre. In Chinese animal symbolism, the tiger is the king of beasts, something very powerful and clever, but also unreliable, prone to lash out.

In one of the first chapters, Xue Yang is described as being ”bound with enough ropes and knots to subdue a tiger” and there are many references to the Yin Tiger Amulet throughout. I drew him and Song Lan as shishi statues in the illustration for chapter 7, feline guardians of the dead that can be interpreted as lions but also tigers. So that's a semi-secret theme. :)

Another layer of symbolism is the Daoist philosophy sprinkled throughout. Sometimes directly, through outright quotes, but often more subtly in how Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan relate to the world and other people.

”Take action by letting things take their course, he reminded himself. The more he hurried, the longer it would take to get where he was going. He could be patient. Would be.”

”He smiled again, grateful for the understanding, for the simplicity, patience, compassion.”

“An empty patch on the ground,” he signed. “We'll make the future a spot where nothing is yet growing.” “An empty spot, where the Universe may plant a seed,” he finished. Song Lan nodded, made the softest hum of agreement.

“Now, now - haven't you heard, Song-daozhang?” he giggled, unsteadily, hauled along in unceremonious jerks. “Treat those who are kind with kindness, but also treat those who are not kind with kindness, only thus is kindness obtaine-... ow.” ← Xue Yang is not above throwing their teachings in their faces for his own benefit, either.

Another thing I enjoy writing is how Xiao Xingchen will very easily fall into familiarity with both Song Lan and Xue Yang when he interacts with them, but they're two very different kinds of familiarity, and he's often not at all aware himself that he's doing it. (They are. Especially the party not currently being interacted with, glaring daggers at the other.) He often just... assumes they'll do a certain thing, and they'll automatically find themselves doing it.

They are both utterly dedicated to him, though they may not realize it themselves, and he certainly doesn't. He doesn't want to take anything for granted with Song Lan, and he doesn't dare trust Xue Yang, but in the little moments of thoughtlessness, they'll just accidentally fall into old familiar roles of attachment, and then blink awake, surprised and disturbed at the ease of it. ♥

I also find it delightful how Xue Yang absolutely despises Song Lan, but is still ready and willing to rope him into herding Xiao Xingchen when necessary - and Song Lan will grudgingly follow his lead, to a point. They may not like it, but they do have a goal in common in keeping their person safe.

There is a certain point to the fact that Xue Yang mostly only mentally refers to a-Qing as ”the girl” in his mind. Nothing quite as strong as actual remorse, but it's a slightly chafing subject he does avoid thinking about. She wasn't supposed to die - hurt, yes, be punished for her perceived part in the destruction of their happy home, but not die - and now that Xiao Xingchen is back, it is odd, at times, that she isn't there as well.

Finally - have some teasers for future written chapters! The apples of the merchant in Tanzhou will make a reappearance, as will the beggar girl by the gate. Xue Yang will write Song Lan a heartfelt poem in an upcoming chapter. Song Lan is made to promise to write a couple of old ladies letters. Xiao Xingchen performs emotional manipulation so badly it offers the other two an unexpected moment of bonding. Xue Yang slips and does an unprompted Good Deed and instantly regrets it. (it does help when Xiao Xingchen smiles at him.)

There are more themes of foreshadowing in there, but I also don't want to spoil things, so I'l leave it at this for now.

As always, if anyone has any specific questions about the Roadtrip, please feel free to ask! I may evade if it's spoilery, but 99.9% of the time, I'll happily flail for hours about this story – and it helps keeping me inspired and writing, too! ♥♥♥

#asksilvy #the happy songxuexiao roadtrip story #untamed artfulness #nagisachan1

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWB 1x03: The Tyger and the Lamb

All right. Sorry this is so late this week. There were actually a LOT of TD symbols in this past episode of TWB. They seem particularly heavy around the character of Silas. And I gotta say, as soon as I saw him in the pilot episode, I kinda liked him. I thought he was interesting and kind of felt drawn to him. And that was before I really knew there would be much TD symbolism around him. I think I liked him because he’s big and quiet, and kind of a loner. In a way, he’s sort of the underdog, and who can help but root for that, right?

So here’s a run-down of the symbols we saw.

First of all, his name is Silas. That’s a biblical name. New Testament. He was Paul’s missionary companion. Not sure what other specific ties there might be, but I’ll let you know if I find any. Also, at the end of this episode, Silas is listening to a recording he has from his (presumably deceased) grandparents, and they quote a scripture in Isaiah (Old Testament) to him. So, definitely some biblical ties going on.

The thing about Silas is that he seems to, at some point, have killed someone he regretted. We don’t actually see who it was in this episode, but he has flashbacks of pretty much being on top of and beating someone. We also see flashes of him sitting in an ambulance, looking down at his hands, and there’s blood on them. So I’m assuming he got angry and killed someone and now has some demons about that. He also told Iris that he doesn’t fear the walkers so much as he does himself, and the anger that can take over when he starts killing them.

He had a flashback where he was listening to headphones (lots of music around him as well) and the Walkman dies (battery theory). In that flashback, the walls are bright yellow (Beth color) and the song is all about the rays of the sun. (See what I mean about Beth symbolism?) When the Walkman dies, he hears two other kids talking about him and calling him a monster. It reminded me of Michonne & Carl’s “I’m just another monster” theme.

@wdway​ made a good observation about part of his arc in this episode, too. Once again, Silas is a big, strong guy. At one point, a bunch of tires nearly fell on the group but he got under them and held them up so everyone could pass safely. Kind of like Sampson in strength? I’ve been harping a lot on the Eugene/Sampson theme in last months, and this would fit right in.

We identified plenty of other small symbols around him. Colors (pink and green), lights shining on him in the same way they did on Beth, etc. 

At one point, there’s an emphasis on a pink, Easy-Bake oven. 

I know that sounds random, and I agree. It’s a very random symbol to put in a show like TWD, so it must have been purposely placed. We’re thinking that, much like the Bisquik reference we saw at Grady, it may represent life or resurrection in general. @wdway explained it perfectly: “So in other words something goes in lifeless and after a long time under a bright shining light it comes out something different and delicious.”

Other random symbols: We saw a huge British flag near Julia Ormond (Elizabeth). It was emphasized enough to catch our attention. We were thinking that the British flag may have been included because it has a cross on top of an X on it.

They also recited the poem, The Tyger, by William Blake. If you read that (below), it’s replete with possible Beth symbols. Obviously the burning and fire symbols. Tiger can’t help but remind us of Shiva. I especially like the line, “when the stars threw down their spears, and watered heaven with their tears.” It just screams Sirius symbolism to me.

Oh, which reminds me. There was a “serious” mention in this episode as well.

If you’re wondering about the episode title, I did some research and William Blake, who wrote “The Tyger” also wrote kind of a sister poem to it called “The Lamb.” 

I read through both poems but haven’t done any extensive research to draw ties to the episode. I’m actually wondering if this theme will become more clear as we move along. Like, I’m kind of assuming Silas is meant to be the Tyger, but is he also the Lamb (two sides warring within him?) or is someone else the Lamb? I’m not sure, yet. But at the very least, we have more biblical imagery here.

I didn’t write down in my notes who said this, but someone said, “No goodbyes, okay?” Which reminded me of Beth and her “not saying goodbye” theme.

In terms of the plot, it was a very interesting episode. I’m still liking the stories and the characters and where they’re taking it. We did learn that Julia Ormond’s group (the helicopter people or CRM) have 200,000 people in their community. That’s a LOT. So it will be interesting to see where they take this.

I think that’s all I have for this episode. Definitely some things to keep an eye on, and I’ll keep watching and interpreting them for you. ;D Thoughts?

The Tiger by William Blake

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp! When the stars threw down their spears And water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

[hms-chill]

RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 10

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

Earl Grey (267): Earl Grey tea is an incredibly common caffeinated tea. It is the base of a London fog.

Hamilton to Laurens, “you should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent” (267): This quote is from an April 1779 letter and is immediately followed by “But, as you have done it, and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on one condition; that for my sake, of not your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into me”. Essentially, “you were rude to me, but I love you so much I forgive you as long as you look after yourself”. Just before it, Hamilton’s like “you taught me what it means to love”. (You can find it here)

Pyramus and Thisbe (268): The pair of lovers whose story inspired Romeo and Juliet, they were separated and could only talk through a wall between their houses (I’ve written a very in-depth analysis of this myth, which you can find here).

Dulles International to Heathrow (268): Dulles International is the airport in Washington, DC, and Heathrow is the classy airport in London.

John Cusack (270): An American actor largely known for his roles in the 1980s. This line in particular likely references Say Anything..., a romantic comedy known in part for a scene where Cusack’s character stands outside a girl’s window and plays music from a boombox.

Y’all had to marry your cousins (270): A reference to the royal tradition of only marrying other royals, which led to a whole lot of inbreeding.

Consummation (275): To consummate a marriage is to have sex for the first time, therefore making it “official”. 

Wilde’s complete works (276): Oscar Wilde is an Irish author famous for writing satires and also defining gay culture in the late 1800s. 

Fit of pique (277): If someone does something in a fit of pique, they do it spontaneously and out of anger at being wronged.

Mr. Darcy brooding at Pemberley (278): In Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (spoilers, though it’s been out for 207 years), after Elizabeth rejects Darcy’s first marriage proposal (which is essentially “your family sucks but you’re hot; marry me”), he goes back to the house his family owns and thinks about it and misses her.

Anmer Hall (278): A house owned by the Crown in Norfolk, England; it is currently home to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge.

Mel and Sue (280): A comedy duo and hosts of The Great British Bake Off. Sue was outed in 2002, but claims that “being a lesbian is only about the 47th most interesting thing about me”.

South Kensington (284): A district of West London known for its high density of museums and cultural landmarks.

Prince Consort Road (284): Prince Consort Road is a street in London named after Prince Albert, consort to Queen Victoria. A consort is a royal’s spouse or partner (hence Alex laughing at the idea of his being a prince’s consort)

Ferris Bueller/ Sloane (284-285): Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is a popular movie from the 1980s about Ferris, who skips school for a day of wild shenanigans in Chicago. Sloane is his girlfriend who’s roped in for the ride. 

Victoria and Albert Museum* (285): The Victoria and Albert Museum, often abbreviated “V&A”, is the world’s largest museum of applied and decorative art and design. (you can explore their collections here)

Renaissance City (285): Room 50a of the V&A is full of Renaissance sculptures. (photo here) 

Seated Buddha in black stone (285): The V&A has a bunch of Buddha sculptures, but this one is the only one I saw that’s in black stone.

John the Baptist nude and in bronze (285): Possibly this piece from 1881 by French sculptor Auguste Rodin and is in the V&A’s collection.

Tipu’s Tiger (285): A nearly life-sized semi-automaton that shows a tiger mauling a man in European clothes. The tiger makes growling sounds and the man screams and waves his hand when a handle on the side is turned; it also contains a small pipe organ on the inside and was created to show the power that the Tipu Sultan of India held over invading Brits. The “give it back” that Catherine argues for is officially called repatriation, it would mean that (Western) museums have to give back stolen objects; British museums are famously bad at doing this. (see Tipu’s Tiger here)

Westminster (286): Westminster Abbey, a church in London where royals are crowned and buried. It is covered with intricate carvings and beautiful stained glass.

The Great Bed of Ware (286): A bed made by Hans Vredeman de Vries from the 1590s; it is ten feet wide and made of oak. (see it here)

Twelfth Night (286): A Shakespeare comedy full of chaos that includes a woman cross-dressing, then her twin brother being mistaken for her. 

Epocoene (286): A 1609 play that includes a boy dressing as a woman to dupe a man into giving his son an acceptable inheritance. 

Don Juan (286): A Spanish figure known for his powers for wooing women; the first text published about him was in the 1630s.

Florence (287): Florence is a city known for its art; it was the cultural center of the Italian renaissance. 

Gothic choir screen in the V&A’s Renaissance City (287): This Roodloft, or choir screen, carved by Coenraed van Norenberch is in the back of the Renaissance City in the V&A. It’s a stunning piece; the link above has great pictures and a more in-depth description than I could give.

Zephyr statue by Francavilla (287): You can see this statue here; it was one of thirteen statues commissioned for the garden of a villa near Florence. According to Greek mythology, Zephyr (the west wind) was married to Chloris, goddess of flowers.

Narcissus (by Cioli) (287): This statue may have once been the centerpiece to a fountain with Narcissus looking into an actual pool; it depicts him in the moment he sees and is mesmerised by his reflection.

Pluto stealing Proserpina (287): Likely the statue “The Rape of Proserpina” by Vincenzo de' Rossi. I couldn’t find it on the V&A’s site, but there’s more info here.

Jason with the Golden Fleece (287): This is a sculpture of a very naked Jason, the Greek hero who stole the golden fleece. He was helped by its owner’s daughter, who was in love with him, but whom he later abandoned. You can see the statue here.

Samson Slaying a Philistine (287): You can see this statue here. Henry does a pretty good job of explaining the incredible history behind it; all I have to add from my (limited) research is that it is remarkable in part for the fact that there is no one point on it that draws the eye-- it demands to be looked at completely or not at all.

Victoria and sodomy laws (288): Queen Victoria famously instituted a whole lot of anti-sodomy laws.

Viau on James/George (288): A 1623 poem by Théophile de Viau:

“Apollo with his songs

Debauched young Hyacinthus

Just as Corydon fucked Amyntas,

So Caesar did not spurn boys.

One man fucks Monsieur le Grand de Bellegarde [a friend of Viau],

Another fucks the Comte de Tonnerre.

And it is well known that the King of England

Fucks the Duke of Buckingham.”

“Christ had John, and I have George” (288): This is an actual thing that James I/VI said to the heads of the church. Here’s the full quote, from wikipedia (emphasis is my own): “I, James, am neither a god nor an angel, but a man like any other. Therefore I act like a man and confess to loving those dear to me more than other men. You may be sure that I love the Earl of Buckingham more than anyone else, and more than you who are here, assembled. I wish to speak in my own behalf and not to have it thought to be a defect, for Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had John, and I have George.”

George iii (289): George III was the king against whom the American colonies revolted. He was deeply religious and instituted laws declaring that royals could not marry without the approval of the court.

Convent church of Santa Chiara in Florence (290): This church is no longer a church, but the altar chapel is in an alcove in the V&A. It is the only Italian Renaissance chapel outside of Italy. (you can see photos of it here and here)

Santa Chiara and Saint Francis of Assisi (290): Saint Francis of Assisi founded a few different monastic orders and is one of the most celebrated saints; Saint Clare of Assisi founded a women’s monastic order and wrote the first set of monastic guidelines by a woman. 

Blessed Mother (290): Mary, the mother of Jesus, one of the holiest figures in Catholicism. 

“Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es Buena, and the honeycomb sweet to thy taste”** (290): “My son, eat thou honey, because it is good; and the honeycomb, which is sweet to thy taste. So shall the knowledge of wisdom be unto thy soul: when thou hast found it, then there shall be a reward, and thy expectation shall not be cut off” -- Proverbs 24:13-14, King James Version (yes, that King James. He translated the Bible to make the church stop hating him). 

David and Jonathan (290): An aggressively gay couple from the Bible who have been presented as friends for centuries. Jonathan was a prince and David a shepherd, but God promised that David would be king one day. Rather than argue this or hate David for it, Jonathan welcomed David into his household and loved him despite the prophecy that he would one day usurp him. Following Jonathan’s death, David took in Jonathan’s son and looked after him. 

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen (291): Many Christian prayers end with “in the name of the Father, the son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen”. It’s a way of celebrating the god who gives you all of the good things in your life while also giving up control to them. 

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A fill in from chapter 1, as requested by someone on AO3: 

Deputy Chief of Staff (Zahra’s position, 23): The Deputy Chief of Staff is the top aide to the president’s top aide, and is responsible for ensuring that everything runs smoothly within the bureaucracy of the White House. 

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*This museum puts out books called “maker’s guides” that teach you how to make pieces based on things in their collections; they’re super duper cool.

**I’m not a theologian, but I am a pastor’s kid, and just... this gets me. This whole bit, but this Proverb especially. Like obviously there’s the “oh we’re kissing and I’m thinking about honey tasting sweet”, but verse 14 coming in with the “when you’ve found what’s right, you will be rewarded with the confidence of that rightness and you will have hope”? Just kill me outright next time. Don’t make me google my own murder weapon.

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If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it!

—–-

Chapter 1 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 11 

#this is for that anon who thinks I'm smart and cute #but y'all can read it too #rwrb study guide #rwrb analysis #English Major Brain™ #English Major Brain™️ #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor x alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #june claremont diaz #nora holleran #pez okonjo #bea fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #red white and royal blue

[moonwaif]

Graphic by ao3commentoftheday

Soooo I was working on a story for w/ang/xian week but I don’t think I’ll be finishing it in time. Anyway, here’s the premise:

Wei Wuxian, the Cultivation World’s resident disaster, thinks it’s a good idea to set up his shijie with someone so that she’ll get over her hopeless crush on Jin Zixuan. He enlists the help of his BFF-and-totally-not-crush Lan Wangji, whose older brother Lan Xichen has just come out of conclusion and is the perfect candidate for Jiang Yanli. But chaos ensues when Wei Wuxian’s plan starts to run afoul. Are- are his shijie and Lan Zhan falling for each other?!

Aka, the one where Wei Wuxian jumps to the wrong conclusion like it’s an Olympic sport and he’s a professional athlete. 

Aka, the Emma!AU.

Here’s a very unedited excerpt:

Growing up, Wei Wuxian was always the life of the party. Now, as the Yiling Patriarch, he’s far more content to just sit with Lan Wangji after the party is over. Although “sit” might not be the most accurate description, at least not at the moment. Right now, full and sleepy and perhaps just a bit tipsy after the wedding banquet, Wei Wuxian prefers to lay down. On the floor, to be specific, rolled over onto his side, chin propped on his hand so that he can gaze up at Lan Wangji’s face in the candlelight.

“You’re the only one here who isn’t afraid to talk to me, Lan Zhan.” He tosses back another cup of wine, then slams it on the low table between them. “Everyone probably thinks I’ve got you possessed.”

Lan Wangji takes the cup and refills it. “Not Luo Qingyang.”

“Heh. That’s different. Of course she’s glad to see me. After all, I’m the whole reason she’s getting married.”

Lan Wangji raises a brow. His skepticism causes Wei Wuxian to sigh.

“Come on, Lan Zhan--think about it. If it weren’t for me rescuing the Wen remnants, Mianmian would have never defected from the Jin sect. And if she’d never deflected from the Jin sect, then she never would have met her husband. In a way, it’s like I helped match them!”

“Mn. Luo Qingyang must be grateful.”

Wei Wuxian shoots him a sour glance, but doesn’t argue further. His gaze drifts thoughtfully. “Not only did Mianmian get married, she was even able to reunite with the Jin sect. It’s a happy ending, right? It’s really too bad . . .”

Lan Wangji frowns. “What is too bad?”

“That Jin Zixuan is here!” Wei Wuxian bursts out. “Did you see Mianmian and her husband thanking him? What for? He should be thanking them for even wanting to rejoin his stupid sect! Ugh, he thinks he’s so great, just because he’s the Chief Cultivator. All those people flocking around him all night, just trying to marry off their daughters--he didn’t spare them a single look! I can’t stand that peacock! What does shijie see in him?!”

“Many admire the Chief Cultivator,” Lan Wangji says politely, after a pause. “He is a man of culture and refinement.”

Wei Wuxian nearly chokes. “Refinement?” he repeats incredulously. “Lan Zhan, since when did you get so flowery with your praise? Didn’t you see how he treated my shijie at the banquet? She greeted him, and he barely mumbled a word to her in response. He was so stiff and uncharitable. I guess he still thinks he’s too good for her. Well up his, I say! Only a fool wouldn’t recognize my shijie’s peerless qualities. Even the corner of her handkerchief is too good for him. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve knocked that peacock down a peg or too tonight, dammit.”

Wei Wuxian pauses his tirade to pour more wine down his throat. Lan Wangji watches him drink, eyes moving to Wei Wuxian’s mouth as he swallows, smacking his lips with relish.

“And you know what else bugs me?” Wei Wuxian continues. “As if his head isn’t already big enough, everyone goes around acting like he’s the hero. The sects throw all these banquets and conferences in his honor when in reality, it was your hard work and investigation that brought everything to light, Lan Zhan!”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t need to explain. He can only be referring to one thing, after all--the assassination of Jin Guangshan, the attempted murder of Jin Zixuan, and the fiasco that was Jin Guangyao’s betrayal. Lan Wangji sighs. He reaches for the jar of wine and pours Wei Wuxian another cup. “Wei Ying’s hard work, too.”

“Pfft. Yeah right,” Wei Wuxian mutters. “We both know I wasn’t good for much back then . . .”

Lan Wangji’s face darkens. Wei Wuxian knows what he’s thinking. He must be remembering Wei Wuxian’s meltdown, how he almost lost control. Better yet, how he almost played right into Jin Guangyao’s hands. If it hadn’t been for Lan Wangji’s--and Wen Qing’s--quick thinking, Wei Wuxian would never have been able to clear his name from the Curse of 1000 Holes. At least, not while he still had the Stygian Tiger Amulet pumping his body full of resentful energy day in and day out.

‘I owe Lan Zhan everything,’ he thinks to himself.

In the past, that thought would have bothered him. After all, Wei Wuxian hates being indebted, even though it’s been the constant state of his life as far back as he can remember. First he was indebted to the Jiangs for saving him from the streets, then the Wen siblings for rescuing him and his shidi. Now he’s indebted to Lan Wangji for--well, for everything, basically. But oddly enough, he doesn’t mind. 

Trying to pay Lan Wangji back doesn’t sound like such a bad way to spend the rest of his life.

“What is it?” Lan Wangji asks, concerned. Wei Wuxian smiles.

“Nothing. I was just thinking. You really are amazing, Lan Zhan. How come you’re still a bachelor?”

Normally, Lan Wangji would dismiss this kind of frivolous question. Tonight, he seems to really consider.

“I am satisfied,” he says at last. “What about Wei Ying?”

“Ha! The answer is obvious. Who in their right mind would have me?” This time, Wei Wuxian drinks straight from the jar. “Besides, isn’t marriage just tying yourself down? What’s the point?”

“Companionship,” Lan Wangji answers. “Security. Affection.”

Wei Wuxian raises a brow. “Lan Zhan, how long have you been such a romantic? Since when have you been holding out on me?”

Lan Wangji’s ears redden, but he says nothing. Wei Wuxian smirks. He goes back for another drink, then frowns. The jar is empty.

Sighing, Lan Wangji reaches behind himself to retrieve another jar. Wei Wuxian takes it with a grin.

“Anyway, Lan Zhan--I have an idea. Since I helped Mianmian and her husband get together--” Lan Wangji frowns. Wei Wuxian keeps going. “--this time I’m going to do the same thing for my shijie. With a little nudge in the right direction, I think she’ll finally be able to let go of Jin Zixuan.”

“Letting go is difficult,” Lan Wangji cautions. “Sometimes, impossible.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. “That’s just because Shijie won’t even give anyone else a chance! Look, Lan Zhan--I don’t want her pining after someone who doesn’t even notice her. Who doesn’t even deserve her! She’s spent her whole life looking out for me. It’s time I finally stepped up and took care of her, too. That’s why I’ve picked out the perfect candidate for her cultivation partner!” 

“Who?”

Wei Wuxian smiles mysteriously. “Someone who’s gentle, but also strong and protective. Someone who’s wealthy and powerful, but humble, with a kind heart. Someone who knows how to take matters seriously, but who also has a good sense of humor. Better yet, someone famous for his good looks! Can you guess who it is?”

Lan Wangji blinks, expressionless. Wei Wuxian lets the suspense build for a few more moments, then throws his head back and laughs.

“Who else? It’s your brother, Zewu Jun!”

All things considered, Lan Wangji receives this declaration fairly well. “Brother just recently exited seclusion,” he says, after a beat of silence.

“Then what better way to help him move past his grief than by bringing love into his life? Think about it, Lan Zhan. Wouldn’t they make a beautiful couple?”

Lan Wangji tries again. “Brother has no intentions to marry.”

“Just wait until Zewu Jun gets to know my shijie,” Wei Wuxian scoffs. “I’m sure that’ll change. Unless you don’t think my shijie is good enough for him?”

Lan Wangji knows better than to take the bait. “Do not trifle with matters of the heart.”

Wei Wuxian gapes at him. “Wow. Lan Zhan, did you get that from a poem? Anyway, are you going to help me or not?”

Lan Wangji lowers his gaze, resigned. “I will help.”

TBC..........

#wangxian #wip wednesday #if theres something you wanna see happen let me know #wwx #lwj #wei wuxian #lan wangji #fanfic #my stuff

[yinyangofnevermore]

RWBY Character Allusions

Ruby Rose -> Little Red Riding Hood 🌹(micro allusion in the early volumes: Dorothy from Wizard of Oz)

Weiss Schnee -> Snow White ❄️(micro allusion in the early volumes: Tin Man from Wizard of Oz - no heart)

Blake Belladonna -> Belle AND the Beast (as in combined cuz she’s clearly Belle but she’s also a faunus - Black the Beast descends from shadows 🐈), also yin (from ☯️)  💜 (micro allusion in the early volumes: Cowardly Lion from Wizard of Oz - runs away)

Yang Xiao Long -> Goldilocks, also yang (from ☯️), also kind of Belle from Beauty and the Beast (Yellow beauty burns gold) 💛Sunny little dragon 🐉(micro allusion in the early volumes: Scarecrow from Wizard of Oz - depicted as a dumb blonde)

Zwei -> Toto from Wizard of Oz 🐕

Professor Ozpin/Ozma -> THE Wizard of Oz 🧙🏼‍♂️

Oscar Pine -> Dorothy from Wizard of Oz (his aunt is Auntie Em), some ppl say he may be the Little Prince or Tip from WoO (I’m honestly not sure)

Glynda Goodwitch -> Glinda the good witch from Wizard of Oz 🧙🏻‍♀️

Qrow Branwen -> The Scarecrow from WoO and Muninn, one of Odin’s birds

General James Ironwood -> The Tinman from WoO

Leonardo Lionheart -> The Cowardly Lion from WoO

Professor Theodore -> Still unsure as we haven’t met him yet (in the actual show), some folks think Dorothy some think Scarecrow (in After the Fall and Before the Dawn he is apparently very Dorothy-like)

Jaune Arc -> Joan of Arc ✝️

Nora Valkyrie -> Thor ⚡️

Lie Ren -> Mulan 🌸💮

Pyrrha Nikos -> Achilles 🍁 

Sun Wukong -> Sun Wukong aka The Monkey King (Journey to the West) 🐒

Neptune Vasilias-> Literally the god Neptune/Poseidon, only terrified of water 🌊🔱

Velvet Scarlatina -> Velveteen Rabbit 🐇

Coco Adel -> Hot cocoa and also kinda Coco Chanel

Fox Alistair -> Fox Hunter’s Pie and also potentially Fox and The Hound

Yatsuhashi Daichi -> Yatsuhashi is a Japanese treat, some ppl say Quasimodo?

Dr. Bartholomew Oobleck -> Bartholomew and the Oobleck

Professor Peter Port -> Peter and the Wolf (One could also make an argument for Teddy Roosevelt)

Cardin Winchester -> The Cardinal of Winchester, Henry Beaufort (that judged Joan of Arc) ✝️

Cinder Fall -> Cinderella 🔥

Rhodes -> Colossus of Rhodes as well as possibly Rhodopis (one of the earliest known Cinderella type tales)

Emerald Sustrai -> Aladdin 💎

Mercury Black -> The god Mercury/Hermes

Roman Torchwick -> Romeo Candlewick/Lampwick (from Pinocchio)

Neo Politan-> Neapolitan Ice Cream (some ppl say Mary Poppins cuz of the umbrella, but I dunno) 🍦

Adam Taurus -> Gaston 🐐(He is also the Beast in some ways, but his main allusion in relation to Blake is Gaston)

Salem -> Rapunzel, but mostly the Wicked Witch from Wizard of Oz

The Grimm -> Named after The Brothers Grimm 

Also many Grimm have very specific allusions, some of the more pertinent ones are:

Beowolf -> Representations of the Big Bad Wolf from Little Red Riding Hood (also the name is from an old English epic poem called Beowulf)

Ursa -> Representations of the bears from Goldilocks and the Three Bears

King Taijitu -> Taijitu is the proper Chinese name (in western letters) for the yin and yang symbol (it has two heads - a light and a dark one)

Death Stalker -> Potentially based on Scorpius/Scorpio from Greek mythology

Nevermore -> Reference to The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

Wyvern -> dragon/winged creature from western European mythology

Nuckelavee -> Based on a demon from Orcadian mythology

Seer -> Like a Grimm version of a crystal ball

Griffon -> Based on griffins from Greek mythology

Manticore -> Based on manticore from Persian mythology

Sabyr -> Saber tooth tiger

Sphinx -> Obvs based on Sphinx from Egyptian mythology

Winged Beringel -> Flying monkeys from WoZ

Sea Feilong -> Based on Chinese Flying Dragon

The Apathy -> Apathetic feelings (I.e. Like executive dysfunction/depression in Grimm form)

Leviathan -> Judeo-Christian sea monster/serpent

Monstra -> The giant whale from Pinocchio that swallows Geppetto

The Hound -> The Fox AND The Hound (Fox Faunus turned into a hound Grimm)

Tyrian Callows -> The scorpion from the Scorpion and the Frog story 🦂

Arthur Watts -> John Watson from Sherlock Holmes

Hazel Rainart -> Hansel from Hansel and Gretel

Penny Polendina -> Pinocchio

Pietro Polendina -> Geppetto from Pinocchio

Raven Branwen -> Huginn, one of Odin’s birds (she also gives me a Morrigan vibe from Irish mythology) 

Taiyang Xiao Long -> Twin Dragons (his name roughly means great sunny little dragon) 🐉

Summer Rose -> The Last Rose of Summer 🌹

Vernal -> Vernal legit means springtime sooo.....

Ilia Amitola -> Kaa from Jungle Book (some ppl say Mowgli?)

Ghira Belladonna -> Bagheera from Jungle Book 🐆

Kali Belladonna -> Raksha, the mother wolf, and also kinda Kali the Hindu mother goddess of destruction?

Sienna Khan -> Shere Khan from Jungle Book 🐅

Corsac and Fennec Albain - Tabaqi from Jungle Book?

Klein Sieben -> The Seven Dwarves (all in one)

Jacques Schnee -> Jack Frost ❄️

Winter Schnee -> The Snow Queen ❄️

Whitley Schnee -> Mirror from Snow White (maybe? honestly I’m not sure) ❄️

Willow Schnee -> Queen Grimhilde, the Evil Queen from Snow White (that’s my best guess for her, anyways)❄️

Nicholas Schnee -> Possibly Santa Claus?

Neon Katt -> Nyan cat meme

Flynt Coal -> Flint Coal from Minecraft

Maria Calavera -> Legit the Grim Reaper

Jinn and Ambrosius-> Djinn/Genies 🧞‍♂️

Lil’ Miss Malachite -> Little Miss Muffet 🕷🕸

Caroline Cordovin -> The Lady in the Shoe 👞

Ace Ops -> Aesop’s Fables

Clover Ebi -> A Fisherman’s Good Luck 🎣

Vine Zeki -> The Elm and the Vine

Elm Ederne -> The Elm and the Vine

Harriet Bree -> Hare from Tortoise and the Hare 🐇

Marrow Amin -> The Dog and Its Reflection 🐕

Robyn  Hill -> Robin Hood

Happy Huntresses -> Merry Men from Robin Hood 

May Marigold -> Maid Marian

Fiona Thyme -> Friar Tuck

Joana Greenleaf -> Little John

Fria -> Blue Fairy from Pinocchio 🧚🏼‍♂️

Little -> The sleepy teacup Dormouse from the Mad Hatter’s tea party

Jabberwalker -> Jabberwocky

Alyx -> Alice in Wonderland

Red Prince -> Red Queen from Wonderland

Curious Cat -> Cheshire Cat

I’m not doing ALL of the characters, just the ones who have a bit more substance in the story.

Several of these are kind of guesses that I’m not sure about. Please don’t tear me apart if I’ve gotten something wrong, but I do take suggestions into mind. And let’s be real, in most cases we simply don’t know for sure unless CRWBY tells us. So unless Miles or Kerry or someone from CRWBY says FOR SURE who a character is based on, do not just tell me I am wrong because we simply don’t know. But if I missed something Miles or Kerry or someone more official in CRWBY has said, please feel free to tell me.

I will try to keep this updated.

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #Blake Belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #JNPR #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #qrow branwen #robyn hill #oscar pine #yin yang of nevermore #neo politan #penny polendina #tyrian callows #clover ebi #winter schnee #whitley schnee #raven branwen #professor ozpin #general ironwood #cinder fall #summer rose #analysis #character analysis #character allusions #RWBY allusions

[bettsfic]

Writing question! 1st person and 3rd-person-from-someone's-POV--what other narrator choices are there? Thoughts on 2nd person? Is there such a thing as cinematic narration--inside no one's head but shown all of the things a movie would show to get a sense of what people are thinking? Basically, what are your thoughts on perspective and narration?

what a great question! i have a whole powerpoint presentation on this!! i will copy and paste/add some info (it’s for a lecture).

First person

Singular

I coughed up a bunch of chicken bones earlier.

Default in nonfiction and YA

Good for fiction with one POV

Tip: consider first person like a very long monologue -- this is your main character’s actual voice, so it should be reflective of the way they speak

Plural

We watch the sad man eat all those chicken bones.

Generally experimental/rare

You’d write in first-plural if you have a narrator with a hive-mind, literally (sci fi, fantasy) or metaphorically (literary)

Ex: “Debbieland” by Aimee Bender (one of my favorite stories of all time!! tw for graphic bullying)

Second person

Second POV is difficult because some of these are not actual second POV; I just didn’t know where else to put them. The way I refer to them here isn’t anything fancy or official, just how I personally refer to them.

True second

You stand on the side of the road, complacent, wondering how many chicken bones you ate.

“You” is primary pronoun and functions like first or third-limited

Somewhat experimental, unfortunately frowned upon (but one of my favorites)

Used more often in poetry and lyric essays than fiction

There are lots of different reasons you���d use this. In one of my stucky fics, I use second person because Bucky is brainwashed and talking to himself at a distance. Some people think it puts the reader closer to the text; some believes it distances the reader from the text.

Ex: Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerny (novella, so I can’t provide the full text)

Imperative

“You” is the primary pronoun here too, but omitted; the sentences are written as commands

A writer might use this POV for a story/poem structured as a how-to guide

Ex: “How to Become a Writer” and “How to Be An Other Woman” by Lorrie Moore (I don’t have the full text of the second one, so I linked to the collection it’s in)

One of my favorite writing exercises is writing your own “how to be a ______” with a facet of identity you embody. How to be a fangirl. How to be a tumblr ancient. How to be a bisexual disaster. It’s a lot of fun, and the results are always great.

Direct address

I implore you, dear reader, please avoid the chicken bones.

Or

I miss you, Nancy, and your goblinesque gnawing of chicken bones.

Addressing the audience/another character directly

Not actually second person but often first (or you could do it in third)

I don’t have an example for this one; I’m working on a novel right now that’s first person direct address, where “you” is the woman who is the obsession of the narrator.

Epistolary

Dear Karen, go choke on a chicken bone. Love, Helen

Epistolary format is something written as a letter, so it’s like direct address, but more specific

Also not technically a POV, just a form

Third person

Limited

She thinks about buying a bucket of chicken.

Used in fiction with alternating POVs; as popular as first person

We’re only in the mind of one person, can only see/think what they do

Generally speaking, no head-hopping mid-scene

Narration is often reflective of the character’s thoughts and voice

Description/knowledge cannot go beyond the literal scope of the character’s mind, which is to say, if you’re character is blindfolded, he can’t see a door opening and closing, but he can hear it. So you wouldn’t be able to describe the stained-glass inlay of the door

Omniscient

He stares for a long moment at the fried chicken menu, then flits through his wallet. 

Either the narrator has no insights into the minds of characters (cinematic), or all insights into the minds of characters (head-hopping)

This answers one of your questions -- yes, you can write in third person without a specific narrator and without being inside the mind of any character, but it is (for me anyway) extremely difficult

Ex: (cinematic) Plainsong by Kent Haruf (novel, not full text)

Ex: (head-hopping) “A Romantic Weekend” by Mary Gaitskill and “The Hunter’s Wife” by Anthony Doerr

Narrator

He buys the chicken! They fall in love! How romantic.

The narrator has its own persona/voice but isn’t a character within the story

Often found in fairy tales, comedies, and frame stories

Ex: A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket (not full text)

Ex: “Tiger Palace” by Kirsty Logan

to my knowledge, this is every possible POV you can have. i’ve provided examples of fiction, but all of these can be considered for poetry and nonfiction also. note that POV is different than tense, form, and style, which are close cousins of POV (although i have provided some examples that toe the line).

how to choose a POV that is right for your piece is another task entirely. my advice is to choose what excites you most, and experiment as often as you can. if you feel overly limited by one POV over another, then go with the one you find more freeing. if you really can’t decide, write one scene in your gut instinct, then rewrite it in a different POV and see which you like better. 

all voices are created equal. there is no one voice that is worse than another, only ones that work with the piece you’re writing.

#pov #writing advice #dow19 #that-this-will-do

[ghostsofmemories]

What piece have you written that you're most proud of?

I’ve written a couple poems I really love, which I’ll put under the cut because I don’t want to be obnoxious, but the one I’m the most proud of to this day is The Universe In You (that’s a link to the Tumblr post with the poem), which I wrote several months ago and actually won some contests with. Unfortunately, none of them got me any money, but I do have my biggest contest with this poem coming up where I actually have to show up in person and read it in front of an audience for a chance at scholarship money. I never did show it to the person who I wrote it about, which is kind of easy to understand once you read it. Here are a couple others I’m a little proud of:

I think this is the only one in another post, titled Children Like Melting Pots. I love it because it was one of the only poems I wrote that included not only my fear of being like my parents, but that my parents will be like each other. It also ended with an actual resolution where I realize I am my own person. Also, I love the title.

- - -

Origin:

My hometown.Every corner of every streetHolds a memory for me.A pair of shoes hanging from the skyFor three Thanksgivings.

Born here,Raised here,I was nearly buried here,Everything about meTraces backAnd backTo the poorly kept up park,To the woodland’s hidden hills,To the trees with our names carved deep,To the water,To the street,Climbing hills with bare feetAnd hand-me-down sweaters.

This town.The only roads I truly know,The only place I want to goBack to.You know I can’t stay,But you do know I love you.

My hometown.Every corner of every street,I walked it all with aching feet,A pair of shoes hanging from the skyFor six Thanksgivings.

I love this poem because I feel like it’s the only way I can truly express where I grew up and my love for that place. I wouldn’t ever want to live there again because of all the pain I experienced there, but I’ll always miss it and it’ll always be my home. Additionally, there’s a family joke in here from when my cousin threw a pair of shoes up at the powerlines on Thanksgiving years and years ago, and they’re still there. This one is also entered in the contest!

- - -

I didn’t steal anything, I swear.

I am nothing if not clayIn the hands of the world—In the hands of a universe.Mold me,Shape me,Write meLike the stories of thoseJust like meThat they never got the chance to tellBecause they were cut short.Because they were cut open,Words and blood falling outOf their bodies,Unfiltered yet unspoken.An illegal love forAnother womanWho knew it would kill her?Who knew it would hurt so muchTo exist?She was born like this,And yet she will pay for itAs if it were a pair of sunglassesFrom a department store - a stolen kissAnd not the love of her life.I am nothing if not clayBut make no mistake,I will write this story with every acheThat I feel for the people like me.

I wrote this poem after I had finally gotten over a lot of my internalized homophobia, and I spent a year coming back to it and changing things. Probably my most edited poem of all time.

- - -

A Portrait

How do you Capture such beauty?With paint, with pens, with poetry?It’s just so impossibleMy problem? Unsolvable.But I try to make something you’ll see.

I’ve tried and I’ve triedTo draw or describeThe way that you make me feel.But despite what I do,My portrait of youWill only continue to fail.

Paint and paper just Don’t seem to fit you,I can’t put all my love in one piece.So I’ll pick a lyric,And I’ll let you hear it,And then I’ll paint that, at least.

My words come up shortEvery damn time,And most disappear when I blink.Spoken or written,Whatever I’ve givenIs half of what I truly think.

You’re far too infiniteFor someone like meTo capture in something so small.You’re far too expansiveFor this dopey romantic,I just don’t have a catch-all.

Poem and picture,Rhyme after rhyme,Hoping to get it all down.But I never run out ofWords for you, love,I can only pray to get decent ones out.

This poem is sometimes very hard to look back on because it’s from not only the happiest part of my relationship, but the happiest part of my life. I wrote it in July of 2019, and in several of my other poems from my collection I reference July. “Starry nights under a July sky,” and “Every time I see you smile / I’m reminded of July / And I’m reminded of who I used to be.” It also has a very specific rhyme scheme and took me a very, very long time to write.

Tired-Eyed Girl (The Homecoming Poem)

This particular poem isn’t one I’m comfortable sharing on a platform that the person I wrote it about also uses and follows me on, and having it in my collection makes me anxious enough. This poem has several references to poems my ex wrote about me, specifically one called Teary-Eyed Girl and another one called Tiger Lily, and it’s basically me being confused after being asked to homecoming, then un-asked, and then spending that night together anyway but not in a romantic context. It talks about the hurt of being completely abandoned in a romantic relationship, but that person still being your best friend. Basically, taking what you can get. I’m proud of it but reading it also makes me cry every time.

- - -

Hers

She holds the sun,She’s walked the moon.The world’s in the palm of her hands.

She owns the night,She swims in the stars,And her world is made of silkThat you’ll never touch.

It’s too good to be true.She’s too good for you.Even if you could win,You’d try not to.

She rules the world,And you live a lie.And no matter how much you do for her,She won’t even try.

You’ll give up your whole lifeFor a girl and a knife?

Bend to her will and her way;She rules the world, she saves the dayDon’t see the little things she does that hurt.

You’re nothing,You are nothing,

If not hers.

I wanted to include this one so it could be in writing somewhere on the internets before my collection gets published next year. This poem is not about my ex. First of all, my ex is not a girl. Secondly, my ex was never this toxic. There may have been what felt like power imbalances at times, but those were never taken advantage of and this poem isn’t about that. It’s about toxic friendships, and doing what people say because you’re not sure what else to do. Maybe you aren’t being threatened, but you don’t have anywhere else to go, either.

- - -

Red, Like You

To be perfectly honest,I didn’t used to like red.But when you became so incredibly adamantThat red was the greatest color,I saw it in a whole new way.

Red is different now.It’s no longer the color of blood,Of anger,Of pain.

Red is love.Red is excitement.Red is the color I turn Every time you use that smile.Red is you.

I don’t even know if this countsAs poetry.There’s no rhythm, no rhyme, nothing.Just thoughts in verse.Just thoughts that burn.Just simple wordsThat never workQuite how I want.You’re all I want.

I find in youThe most essential type of beauty.The primary red.I used to think I was blue.Blue because I don’t even know why.But you told me I was grayAnd it all made sense.The contrast feels nice.

[I think red might be my new favorite color.]

This poem isn’t necessarily one of my best, but I’ve always loved it because it’s the most honest poem I’ve ever written. It’s a stream of consciousness and to me, this poem is what love feels like. It’s a change in perspective that burns, sometimes, but it’s necessary. There’s also some primary color wordplay and the implication that the person this poem is written about is bright, exciting, warm. Which he was. The line in brackets at the end is a line that used to be in the poem, but I later removed it because it just didn’t seem to fit. However, it is graffitied under a highway near my house. I wrote this poem in September when I was under a fervor of emotions and felt nothing but love, and to me, the world felt totally and completely red. 

Alright, that’s all I’ve got! I have a ton of poems set aside from my collection and these are a couple of my favorites that I think sum up the collection better than I could. I also wanted a couple of the explanations down in words so people can’t turn some of these around on me later.

#poem #poetry #poems #writing my obituary #wmo #graffiti #long post #lynn answers #ask #anon #love #relationships #breakup #beautiful #love poems #queer #queer lit #lesbian #lesbian poetry #sappho

[literalisha-blog]

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

William Blake (1757—1827) was odd, to say the least. He definitely did some weird stuff throughout his career. For now, however, let’s ignore his visions, his prophecies, and his entirely way too in-depth ‘mythology.’ Instead, let’s focus on specific works of art. Once you remove all the crazy, it’s easy to see that Blake was an immensely talented and extremely creative human being.

For instance, his Songs of Innocence and of Experience: Shewing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul is insane (in a good way). There are many poems, or “songs,” in this book that help validate Blake’s idea of the human soul. The fascinating part is that Blake didn’t merely write the poems, he also illustrated each one through a painstakingly long process he referred to as “illuminated printing.” To fully experience the poems, viewers would need to see Blake’s original art, or at least a copy of it.

That being said, I want to hone in on just two of his poems. Like many in this book “The Lamb” and “The Tyger” have a connection. Blake demonstrates the innocence and the experience by questioning the existence of the two animals through the eyes of an innocent child and through the eyes of a more experienced adult. The main idea of each poem is essentially the same. Both have someone inquiring about the creation of each animal. The difference being that in “The Lamb,” the questioner asks politely by simply requesting, “Little Lamb who made thee?” This plays very well into the innocence of the soul. Whereas in “The Tyger,” the questioner asks in a more aggressive and perhaps even in an offensive manner with the words, “What immortal hand or eye, could frame thy fearful symmetry?” A reaction like that could only be performed by someone with more life experience than that of a young child. Moreover, Blake managed to differentiate the poems further by using specific tones, dictions, metaphors, and imagery techniques.

First up: tone. On one hand, “The Lamb” is from the perspective of a young child. This automatically adds a dash of innocence to it. The poem could be a song, happily sung by the child, because Blake repeated so many words and even whole lines. For example, “Little Lamb who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee?”, “Little Lamb I’ll tell thee,” and “Little Lamb God bless thee.” On the other hand, “The Tyger” is almost the complete opposite, which is sort of the point. Sure, it could be a song as well, but it would have to be sung by a heavy metal band that desperately needs more sunshine in their lives. The questioner in “The Tyger” is an adult, therefore, the tone of the poem is naturally going to be more grown up and mature.

Next: diction. Blake did a splendid job choosing the correct use of diction to get his soul thesis across. “The Lamb” flawlessly portrays innocence, while “The Tyger” seamlessly portrays experience. For “The Lamb” Blake used simple, friendly, and childish words and lines that would never be found in “The Tyger.” Such lines include: “Gave thee life & bid thee feed,” “softest clothing wooly bright,” and “making all the vales rejoice!” Alternatively, in “The Tyger” Blake used harsher, longer words and lines; words that children might not have learned yet. Some examples include: “burning bright,” “twist the sinews of thy heart,” “furnace,” and “what dread grasp, dare its deadly terrors clasp!” It’s all so very dramatic; I love it.

Lastly: metaphors and imagery. In the innocence poem, Blake used the metaphor “clothing of delight, softest clothing wooly bright” to describe the lamb’s wool. For bonus marks, it is also tactile imagery! Additionally, he used auditory imagery when he wrote, “such a tender voice, making all the vales rejoice!” Simple word play for a simple poem; lovely. In contrast, Blake used a much more complex metaphor for “The Tyger,” one that requires experience! He used an extended metaphor, about fire, with lines, such as: “In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire in thine eyes,” “What the hand, dare seize the fire,” and “In what furnace was thy brain?” In this poem, the fire has many meanings. On one hand, the fire in the tiger's eyes, and the fire that the hand dares to seize, is referring to the fierceness that the tiger possesses. The fire of the furnace, on the other hand, is the fire where the tiger was created. Moreover, Blake used “burning bright, in the forests of the night” as a fire metaphor and, also, visual imagery.

“The Lamb” and “The Tyger” are very different poems. Yet, clearly, they are connected. The most obvious connection is that they both involve an individual inquiring about the existence of an animal. However, there is a certain line in “The Tyger” that completely ties the two poems together into a nice little bow. The line is: “Did he who made the Lamb make thee?”

#william blake #poetry #Poems #poet #romantics #literature #Books and Literature #bookworm #books #reading #book #read #songs of innocence and of experience #booklr #book quotes #the lamb #the tyger #blake #poem

[stripesthesupervillain]

Mad Hatter's quirks relating to the Lewis Carrol books

Traits directly from the book:

These are just a reference for me to look at for future Batman fanfiction and shitposts because I want to get them right, and perhaps for anyone who hasn’t read the book Alice in Wonderland, or its sequel, Through the Looking Glass. If Jervis is truly trying to mirror the Hatter to the letter, he should get all of these. 

If you want to see the traits alluded to instead, they’re under the cut. If you’re interested in some of my personal headcanons, they’re also just under the cut.

Anyways, here we go.

- According to illustrations, he’s small and wears a proper dress shirt, coat, and bowtie, along with a large hat with a card stuck in the top reading “In this style 10/6”

- The Hatter appears in chapter 7 and 11 of the book, Alice in Wonderland. He’s with the March Hare and the Dormouse, who can be perceived as his best friends.

- In Through the Looking Glass, he actually makes a small appearance, and is one of the four reoccurring characters, the others being the Hare, Alice, and her real cat, Dinah. He’s referenced being in a prison/dungeon (no idea why) in chapter 5, but you meet him in chapter 7, where he’s inexplicably let out of prison (again, no idea why) and watching a lion and a unicorn duke it out.

- Also on that note, he isn’t called the Hatter, he’s called Hatta. The March Hare is called Haigha (pronounced Hayor) (get it? Hare?), and they’re both messengers for the white king but it’s clear they’re the same characters; they’re practically best friends, and Hatta is seen always sipping tea and eating bread, and is depicted as wearing the same exact hat as before. So yeah, he can also go by Hatta, and will sometimes call the Hare “Haigha”. No Dormouse, though.

- If you attempt to sit down uninvited at his table, he’ll shout “No room! No room!” even if there’s tons of room available.

- If you sit down without his invitation, he’ll be grumpy. Even though the Hare does this, Jervis can offer you wine even if there’s no wine at the table, calling you out for sitting without an invitation.

- He has an odd need to cut Alice’s hair. “Your hair wants cutting.”

- “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” This is the most common question he’ll ask people. Those who get it right will put him in good spirits with them.

- The answer to the riddle, by the way, is “I haven’t the slightest idea” or just saying you don’t know. There is no answer. Lewis Carroll never came up with an answer until a bunch of fans of his work wrote to him, so Jervis stays faithful to the book.

- He’ll easily confuse you if you contradict yourself. For example, when Alice says that “I mean what I say” is the same thing as “I say what I mean”, the Hatter replies with the notion that it’s like saying “I see what I eat” is the same as “I eat what I see”.

- He has a pocketwatch that tells the day, month, and year instead of the time. And it’s two days off.

- He can’t tell the time because he believes that it’s 6:00 all the time. This is because Time, who is described as a person, doesn’t like him, and thus stopped moving for him.

- 6:00 was British tea time back then, which explains his obsession with tea.

- He loves stories, and will demand one from others.

- He also sings. Yes, he sings. “Twinkle twinkle little bat, how I wonder what you’re at. Up above the world you fly, like a tea tray in the sky.” Luckily, that’s all.

- He’s also no stranger to rude remarks, even calling Alice stupid at one point.

- There’s a point where he tries to shove the oversized Dormouse into a teapot. I like this idea because I like imagining Jervis grabbing Riddler by the hair and slamming his head into a teapot.

- He collects hats to sell them, so he has a large variety.

- He has a large fear of the King and Queen of Hearts. In fact he gets extremely anxious in these situations when under a lot of pressure and fumbles when he speaks to the point where he even fucks up a few of his movements, biting a piece out of a teacup instead of his bread.

- This is a rule for practically everyone in the book: if someone is trying to make sense of things, they’re automatically an idiot. If you try to reason with something weird Jervis says, he’ll probably think your stupid. That’s the attitude of almost every character in the book.

Jervis’ possible quirks according to the books:

These aren’t particularly attributed to the Mad Hatter, but can be used as references that are good to know. Most of these are about Alice or Wonderland in general.

- Alice prefers picture books, so, being in a place of imagination, it would make sense the Mad Hatter would like them more. However, being a genius, he will read regular books if he really must. He just finds them boring.

- Despite speaking more than proper English, there are some made up words sometimes from the book that Alice or the characters use, like the infamous phrase “Curiouser and curiouser,” which was a word made up and coined by Lewis Carroll. Though, it’s not considered a legit word. Examples also include “pleasanter”. Some are just completely made up, like “brillig” (meaning 4 o’ clock), or “mimsy” (a cross between flimsy and miserable). Expect Jervis to use a few of those.

- The metaphors are very odd and almost always come from the books, and are hard to understand. For example, “shutting up like a telescope” means to get smaller. 

- At one point, Alice gets confused about who she is, believing herself to be another little girl instead of Alice. It would make sense for the Mad Hatter to call other people he believes to be “Alice” by that name, believing they’re just confused over who they are.

- He’ll sometimes speak to animals as if they’re people. Does he expect them to answer? Maybe.

- Alice is actually learning French. It would make sense for Jervis to deliberately learn French for this purpose. He just might be bilingual.

- Alice carries around a box of comfits and enjoys marmalade. Jervis might be more favorable to sweets.

- Most of the denizens of Wonderland are animals, so it can be guessed that Jervis would have a love of them.

- “We’re all mad here,” says the Cheshire Cat. Jervis could very well know he’s nuts and just rolls with it. Hell, he might even desire it, possibly refusing psychoactive treatment.

- Flowers can talk, too. Yeah. Apparently, the only reason they don’t is because the ground is too soft. Jervis might speak to flowers or something. He doesn’t speak to daisies, because they’re annoying.

- In fact, pretty much everything can talk to him.

- Not trees, though. Trees bark. *wink*

- The Looking Glass world is actually a separate world, where everything is backwards. The more practice you have riding a horse, the more you fall off it; if you want to stay in the same place, you have to run as fast as you can; you have to pass around a cake for everyone to eat before you cut into it. Those sorts of things. So if you get thirsty, expect a dry-ass biscuit for refreshments, because yeah, that happens, too. If Jervis believes he’s in this world, the things he says might make even less sense than before, and he might demand you call him “Hatta”.

- Being a messenger in Through The Looking Glass, that might contribute a bit to his character. Maybe he’ll talk about serving the white king or, y’know, going to prison, or how he needs to get the drums to “drum” the lion and unicorn out of town after watching their fight. Yeah, it’s a weird book.

- Some of the sayings in the book can be interpreted differently, and some of the poems can get kinda dark. You might see him use those to express his opinion or mood. 

Personal headcanons:

- It’s already been established he’s short as fuck, but hey.

- Jervis names every supervillian and hero in Gotham after a character in the book. For example, Jonathan is the March Hare, Batman is the Jabberwocky, Joker is the Queen of Hearts and Harley is the king, things like that. Anyone who’s a doctor or police officer or just a citizen are usually reserved to the rolls of “Cardsmen” or “soldiers” or just “chess pieces” and “pawns”.

- He has very proper English and uses complex vocabulary, as well as made-up words from the book. The only ones who can really understand him completely are Scarecrow, Riddler, and Batman, who have read the books front to back to understand him.

- He has a copy of Alice’s Adventures with him at all times. He’ll hand it to someone if they can’t understand what he’s talking about. Scarecrow dubs it “Jervis’ dictionary”.

- To calm himself down from a particularly harsh schizophrenic episode, he hums some of the rhymes from the books.

- The rhymes and phrases he mutters to himself when it gets quiet also dictate what mood he’s in. Usually he’s pretty cheerful, but the poems get darker as the more disgruntled or sadistic he feels.

- He’s prone to suddenly stopping himself in random conversations and quiet situations to squeal that he’s late or needs to deliver a message or something like that. He’ll continue to freak out for a good thirty seconds before calming down and continuing to talk like nothing happened.

- No one actually knows what he’s late for, but reminding him of it is a good way to stop him in his tracks for a good few seconds. The only time this doesn’t work is with a serious event going on or if he’s upset.

- His most prized possessions are his hat and his copy of Alice in Wonderland, but in case those are every destroyed, he has, like, twenty other duplicates at home.

-He is bilingual in both French and English.

- He’ll take a hammer to any copy of the Burton movies he comes across.

- He owns a Tiger lily that he likes to talk to. He keeps it watered and generally well kept.

- Many of the sayings he takes from the book and he’ll use to express his opinion or desires. For example, if he offers you wine, it means he’s annoyed with you and he doesn’t consider you an ally. If he says “your hair wants cutting” it means he wants to kill you.

- The “tea party” refers to the rogue’s gallery in general. So anyone like Two-Face or Joker is considered a part of or invited to the tea party.

- Speaking of which, I might as well name everyone after an Alice in Wonderland Character, huh? Alright, let’s do this. These are the names Jervis refers to everyone and why.

- He adores animals, since Wonderland is practically made up of them.

Batman: The Jabberwock. In the poem, it’s considered the most dangerous of beasts.

Robin: Jubjub bird. Also something you need to watch out for, apparently. Appears in the Jabberwocky poem, but in passing.

Batgirl: Bandersnatch. Also appears in the same poem in passing, but is still pretty bad. Also said to be fast.

Jervis Tetch: Hatter/Hatta. Duh.

Scarecrow: March Hare. C’mon, the two worked together. They’re pretty much best coworkers. Also because he’s pretty intelligent and plays along with Hatter’s rhymes and whatnot.

Riddler: The Dormouse. Also intelligent and can understand Jervis. Nerd squad.

Joker: Queen of Hearts. Yeah, I know, he’s a guy, but the bitch is insane in the book, executing everyone for the craziest of reasons, kinda like Joker.

Harley Quinn: King of Hearts. Still debating.

Catwoman: The Cheshire Cat. Not good, not bad, and likes to disappear and be sly and all that. Plus it’s a cat.

Poison Ivy: The Tiger lily. Basically rules the other plants and is top-dog. Plus its a talking plant.

Mr. Freeze: Mock Turtle. This one was kinda hard to decide. He’s always sad and a bit of an abomination. Not really a villain like the other are, like how the Mock Turtle isn’t a real turtle. Might change.

Zsasz: Carpenter. A god damn murderer. The Carpenter got a bunch of baby oysters to trust him and then killed them

Killer Croc: Walrus. Basically the same as Zsasz, but you can now include the fact that he’s an animal and eats the oysters.

Clayface: I actually can’t think of anything. Griffin, maybe? Wouldn’t suit him.

Bane: Also hard. Maybe the Lion?

Professor Pyg: The Duchess. Basically a play on him being obscenely ugly. Has a weird obsession for correcting things, and the Duchess’ baby turns into a pig, too, so yeah.

Doctors/People/Police: Cardsmen/Pawns/Chess pieces/soldiers.

#Batman #Mad Hatter #Jervis Tetch #reference

[spiritualgateway]

The Sermon of No Words

There is an ancient saying: "Better an inch of practice than a foot of preaching." It refers to the sermon preached by the body itself, through action and without speaking.

The sermon of words and phrases is the finger pointing to the moon, the fist knocking at the door. The object is to see the moon, not the finger, to get the door open and not the knocking itself; so far as these things do achieve their objects they are fine.

The object of the Buddha's life of preaching was not to turn words and phrases. The Diamond Sutra compares his sermons to a raft, which is only an instrument for reaching the far shore. The sermon, which is an instrument, can be discarded after a time, but the real preaching—which is not discarded—is the preaching by the body itself.

As to what that preaching may be, the truth of it is very profound, but in simple language it means that others receive right inspiration from that person. It is said that when a Bodhisattva has continued spiritual practice for three kalpa-ages they are qualified to be a Buddha.

After a hundred ages, their appearance becomes majestic. This does not mean anything outwardly magnificent, but it means that in helping others,  the manner in which the thing is done is of first importance, and through the force of wisdom and compassion there manifests in one a peculiar dignity and tenderness. By contemplating the form of Bodhisattvas like Kannon and Jizo, one's heart becomes somehow softened, but along with that there is something awe-inspiring which cannot be gainsaid.

When one feels it within all the time, it is naturally reflected in the outward appearance, and love and respect are attracted from others.

What gives us inspiration is the sermon of action of the Bodhisattva. They have the power to do it without uttering a word, but it is not to be confined to Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. For religious and other teachers, for all who stand in authority over many, as head of a household, with many dependants, or as employer of a single man or woman, it is all important.

A sermon is not something said by the Buddha long ago, or prated nowadays from a pulpit. The sermon of words is like a sort of advertising puff; but the real sermon is when the employer acts as a right employer, the servant as a right servant, and so with the merchant and official. All things, dogs and cats, trees and grass, things animate and inanimate, have all, so to say, their right path, and, so far as they keep to it without faltering, it is the sermon of action.

A poem of Sontoku expresses it: "Without voice or incense, heaven and earth are ever repeating unwritten scripture."

The man called Reiun was realized when he saw the peach blossoms; then Kyogen when he heard a stone strike against bamboo. There are instances of people who having matured their spiritual training were then enlightened on seeing the flying petals or falling leaves of autumn. The Buddha himself had his great Realization on seeing the brilliance of the morning star.

In the same way the mountains and rivers and sun and moon and stars, every morning and night, are preaching the sermon to bring us to realization.

We should understand that it is never effective merely to rebuke others harshly. Let each of us keep to our own role and play it properly; then a beauty will manifest spontaneously; high and low will be affected and, one's conduct will change to harmony and virtue.

Since the self is a creation of the mind and good and bad too are from the mind (or, rather, correspond to the spiritual beauty or ugliness of the person), the first thing is to train the mind. Training produces a charm and power which appear externally and affect others. There are various ways and means in spiritual training, but the first effect is faith.

One's faith may be true or false, right or mistaken, shallow or deep, high or low and so on. ��When this reverent faith bubbles up, our everyday nature of itself begins to shine with the light of compassion, and the beauty and power of the true Heart break forth, and we move in harmony with the Buddha-light. When this happens the virtues of the Buddha-body are ever in our breast, and from head to feet our action is prompted by the Buddha. Such is the life of faith, and in it every incident preaches the sermon of action.

Those who have no light in their hearts are always in darkness, a darkness in which a hundred demons come and go. Under their sway, life goes from darkness to darkness, ordinances of heaven are broken, the way of man is transgressed, and finally one is broken.

Faith is all important to people, and it is given to us by religion. There are different religions also, but in Japan Buddhism has come down in an unbroken stream for well over a thousand years and has deeply penetrated the life of the people.

If today the people live in the faith of Buddhism and in the Bodhisattva spirit preach the sermon of action, we ... demonstrate the sermon of no words to the people of the world, and this is the supreme task today.

Rosen Takashina 

Source: A Tiger’s Cave - translations of Japanese Zen Texts - pub 1964

By: Trevor P Leggett 2017

#silence #right path #inspiration #spiritual #spirituality #buddhism #spiritualgateway #soulfood