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timerippleIt's been a while since I posted about books and stuff!
I'm currently 2/3 done with Libba Bray's trilogy, waiting only for The Sweet Far Thing to make a reappearance in the library. Though I'm not madly in love with the trilogy, these are eminently readable and have much appropriate period detail, for which I am a total sucker. Also the covers have much symbolism, and things like that.
I recently finished The Amazing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl, which was considerably less awesome than I’d hoped, but not terrible. Sadly, the Your Protagonist Is Dumber than Your Reader Syndrome struck again. And. It’s just. Look, if you don’t want to alienate 90% of your audience, don’t disparage Neil Gaiman in the third chapter, okay? Really. And you don’t have to be a goth girl to be a Gaiman fangirl, either. *grumble* No, I do not have a sense of humor about these things. I apologize for my deficiency. I will go on a quest to find what I lack, just as soon as I actually care.
*ahem* Moving on. Finally found a copy of Abhorsen. Frankly, I was a bit underwhelmed, but I was already annoyed that Lirael just kept going on forever, in spite of the badass librarians. I love Mogget to bits, though. Partly because he sounds a lot like my nonconstructive critical voice, and partly because he's just awesome.
I finished Portrait of a Lady back in June. It was long but wonderful, in a heartbreaking way. Poor, poor Ralph! I wept like a distraught weepy thing.
I picked up Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire the other day because I've never read any of her stuff, and I gather this is sort of a seminal (er, sanguinary?) vampire novel. I'm sorry to report that I keep snickering every few paragraphs.
However, I’ve taken to reading Berühmte Gedichte der deutschen Romantik (Great German Poems of the Romantic Era) (complete with translations) on the subway because it’s the only book in the current batch that fits in my purse. I read Goethe’s “Erlkönig” on the way back from seeing The Fall a second time, which went nicely with the music. Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht/ Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?.
Then I found Schiller, and that was magical.
Die der schaffende Geist einst aus dem Chaos schlug,
Durch die schwebende Welt flieg ich des Windes Flug,
Bis am Strande
Ihrer Wogen ich lande,
Anker werf, wo kein Hauch mehr weht
Und der Markstein der Schöpfung steht.
Sterne sah ich bereits jugendlich auferstehn,
Tausendjährigen Gangs durchs Firmament zu gehn,
Sah sie spielen
Nach den lockenden Zielen;
Irrend suchte mein Blick umher,
Sah die Räume schon-- sternenleer.
(Die Gröβe der Welt)
Through the soaring world, which the creative Spirit
Once generated out of chaos, I am flying the wind’s flight,
Until I land
At the shore of its waves,
And cast anchor where no puff of air any longer blows,
Where the boundary stone of Creation stands.
I have already seen stars resurrected in youthful glory
In order to make their thousand-years’ journey through the firmament,
I saw them move sportingly
Toward the goals that lured them;
Bewildered, my gaze sought all around,
And already saw space-- void of stars.
(The Magnitude of the World, stanzas 1 & 2)
“Gorm Grymme” (“Gorm the Grim”) by Theodor Fontane also caught at me, but it’s too long to reproduce here, and I haven’t read it closely enough to pick out my favorite bits yet.
“Die Stadt” (“The City”) by Theodor Storm reminded me of San Francisco and several Japanese lyric poems from that oddest of writing classes:
Am grauen Strand, am grauen Meer
Und seitab liegt die Stadt;
Der Nebel drückt die Dächer schwer,
Und durch die Stille braust das Meer
Eintönig um die Stadt.
Es rauscht kein Wald, es schlägt im Mai
Kein Vogel ohn’ Unterlass;
Die Wandergans mit hartem Schrei
Nur fliegt in Herbstesnacht vorbei,
Am Strande weht das Gras.
Doch hängt mein ganzes Herz an dir,
Du graue Stadt am Meer;
Der Jugend Zauber für und für
Ruht lächelnd doch auf dir, auf dir,
Du graue Stadt am Meer.
By the gray shore, by the gray sea,
And out of the way, lies the city,
Fog presses hard on the roofs,
And through the silence the sea
Roars monotonously around the city.
No forest rustles, in May no bird
Sings uninterruptedly;
Only the migrating geese with a harsh call
Fly by on autumn nights;
By the shore the grass waves.
But I am attached to you with all my heart,
You gray city by the sea;
The magic of youth, nevertheless,
Lies smiling perpetually upon you, upon you,
You gray city by the sea.
Doch hängt mein ganzes Herz an dir. Yes.
All text and translations from Great German Poems of the Romantic Era/ Berühmte Gedichte der deutschen Romantik: A Dual-Language Book, edited and translated by Stanley Applebaum, Dover Publications, New York, 1995. (Don't blame me if the translations suck; it's not like I could do better myself. You should hear my rendition of Ovid some time. Whole new meaning of Epic Fail.)
I'm currently 2/3 done with Libba Bray's trilogy, waiting only for The Sweet Far Thing to make a reappearance in the library. Though I'm not madly in love with the trilogy, these are eminently readable and have much appropriate period detail, for which I am a total sucker. Also the covers have much symbolism, and things like that.
I recently finished The Amazing Adventures of Fanboy and Goth Girl, which was considerably less awesome than I’d hoped, but not terrible. Sadly, the Your Protagonist Is Dumber than Your Reader Syndrome struck again. And. It’s just. Look, if you don’t want to alienate 90% of your audience, don’t disparage Neil Gaiman in the third chapter, okay? Really. And you don’t have to be a goth girl to be a Gaiman fangirl, either. *grumble* No, I do not have a sense of humor about these things. I apologize for my deficiency. I will go on a quest to find what I lack, just as soon as I actually care.
*ahem* Moving on. Finally found a copy of Abhorsen. Frankly, I was a bit underwhelmed, but I was already annoyed that Lirael just kept going on forever, in spite of the badass librarians. I love Mogget to bits, though. Partly because he sounds a lot like my nonconstructive critical voice, and partly because he's just awesome.
I finished Portrait of a Lady back in June. It was long but wonderful, in a heartbreaking way. Poor, poor Ralph! I wept like a distraught weepy thing.
I picked up Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire the other day because I've never read any of her stuff, and I gather this is sort of a seminal (er, sanguinary?) vampire novel. I'm sorry to report that I keep snickering every few paragraphs.
However, I’ve taken to reading Berühmte Gedichte der deutschen Romantik (Great German Poems of the Romantic Era) (complete with translations) on the subway because it’s the only book in the current batch that fits in my purse. I read Goethe’s “Erlkönig” on the way back from seeing The Fall a second time, which went nicely with the music. Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht/ Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?.
Then I found Schiller, and that was magical.
Die der schaffende Geist einst aus dem Chaos schlug,
Durch die schwebende Welt flieg ich des Windes Flug,
Bis am Strande
Ihrer Wogen ich lande,
Anker werf, wo kein Hauch mehr weht
Und der Markstein der Schöpfung steht.
Sterne sah ich bereits jugendlich auferstehn,
Tausendjährigen Gangs durchs Firmament zu gehn,
Sah sie spielen
Nach den lockenden Zielen;
Irrend suchte mein Blick umher,
Sah die Räume schon-- sternenleer.
(Die Gröβe der Welt)
Through the soaring world, which the creative Spirit
Once generated out of chaos, I am flying the wind’s flight,
Until I land
At the shore of its waves,
And cast anchor where no puff of air any longer blows,
Where the boundary stone of Creation stands.
I have already seen stars resurrected in youthful glory
In order to make their thousand-years’ journey through the firmament,
I saw them move sportingly
Toward the goals that lured them;
Bewildered, my gaze sought all around,
And already saw space-- void of stars.
(The Magnitude of the World, stanzas 1 & 2)
“Gorm Grymme” (“Gorm the Grim”) by Theodor Fontane also caught at me, but it’s too long to reproduce here, and I haven’t read it closely enough to pick out my favorite bits yet.
“Die Stadt” (“The City”) by Theodor Storm reminded me of San Francisco and several Japanese lyric poems from that oddest of writing classes:
Am grauen Strand, am grauen Meer
Und seitab liegt die Stadt;
Der Nebel drückt die Dächer schwer,
Und durch die Stille braust das Meer
Eintönig um die Stadt.
Es rauscht kein Wald, es schlägt im Mai
Kein Vogel ohn’ Unterlass;
Die Wandergans mit hartem Schrei
Nur fliegt in Herbstesnacht vorbei,
Am Strande weht das Gras.
Doch hängt mein ganzes Herz an dir,
Du graue Stadt am Meer;
Der Jugend Zauber für und für
Ruht lächelnd doch auf dir, auf dir,
Du graue Stadt am Meer.
By the gray shore, by the gray sea,
And out of the way, lies the city,
Fog presses hard on the roofs,
And through the silence the sea
Roars monotonously around the city.
No forest rustles, in May no bird
Sings uninterruptedly;
Only the migrating geese with a harsh call
Fly by on autumn nights;
By the shore the grass waves.
But I am attached to you with all my heart,
You gray city by the sea;
The magic of youth, nevertheless,
Lies smiling perpetually upon you, upon you,
You gray city by the sea.
Doch hängt mein ganzes Herz an dir. Yes.
All text and translations from Great German Poems of the Romantic Era/ Berühmte Gedichte der deutschen Romantik: A Dual-Language Book, edited and translated by Stanley Applebaum, Dover Publications, New York, 1995. (Don't blame me if the translations suck; it's not like I could do better myself. You should hear my rendition of Ovid some time. Whole new meaning of Epic Fail.)
