I think both lifeofkj and shadowedhills recently tagged me to do the ten books meme again. I’m going to repeat a few books because I can’t go without a few books. If you want to read that post (it has some info about the books on that list and why they mean what they do to me) you can do that here.
Books I’ll always list:
Eight other books I could’ve included the first time around:
I’ve reread the first Amber book recently and though I remember loving it the first time, I went into it hesitantly, wondering if it would’ve changed for me at all. It hadn’t really, I still loved it, and remembered a lot about why I liked it the first time. I’ve never been a big traditional fantasy novel fan, and the Amber series just hit my happy place of fantasy in a modern setting without feelingmodern. Zelazny’s writing is just… something different, even now.
With the success of rereading Nine Princes in Amber, I decided to revisit another old favorite in Lightning. It’s the first Koontz book I ever read and has remained my favorite of his (though I’ll admit to not keeping up with recent works). I’m about halfway through it and while it doesn’t have the same feeling for me (yet) as it once did, I can really see why I liked it at the time.
Sometimes it’s nice to revisit old favorites.
Marya Morevna, all in black, here and now, was a point at which all the women she had been met—the Yaichkan and the Leningrader and the chyerti maiden; the girl who saw the birds, and the girl who never did—the woman she was and the woman she might have been and the woman she would always be, forever intersecting and colliding, a thousand birds falling from a thousand oaks, over and over.
Why do you think all men paint themselves when they go to fight? When I paint my eyes to match my soup, it is not because I have nothing better to do than worry over trifles. It says, I belong here, and you will not deny me. When I streak my lips red as foxgloves, I say, Come here, male. I am your mate, and you will not deny me. When I pinch my cheeks and dust them with mother-of-pearl, I say, Death, keep off, I am your enemy, and you will not deny me. I say these things, and the world listens, Masha. Because my magic is as strong as an arm. I am never denied.
“At night, she whispered into the pipes: I hate it here. Please take me away, let me be something other than Marya, something magical, with a round belly. Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.”
― Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless
Feast your eyes on the elegant grandeur of the Real Gabinete Português de Leitura (known in English as the Royal Portuguese Reading Room or the Royal Cabinet), a 19th-century library in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Constructed from 1880 to 1887 under the direction of architect Rafael da Silva e Castro, the magnificent library has the distinction of holding the largest and most valuable collection of Portuguese works outside of Portugal, with over 350,000 volumes filling its countless bookshelves.
Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless
→ R E M E M B E R T H I S W H E N Y O U A R E Q U E E N
"You can either be executed, or you can be Commander Ambrose’s new food taster. His last taster died recently, and we need to fill the position."
“When I say forever,’ Koschei whispered, ‘I mean until the black death of the world. An Ivan means just the present moment, the flickering light of it, in a green field, his mouth on yours. He means the stretching of that moment. But forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.”
—Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless
literature meme | short stories 1/8
The Yellow Wallpaper is a 6,000-word short story by the American writer Charlotte Perkins Gilman, first published in January 1892 in The New England Magazine. It is regarded as an important early work of American feminist literature, illustrating attitudes in the 19th century toward women’s physical and mental health.
Presented in the first person, the story is a collection of journal entries written by a woman whose physician husband has confined her to the upstairs bedroom of a house he has rented for the summer. She is forbidden from working and has to hide her journal from him, so she can recuperate from what he calls a “temporary nervous depression – a slight hysterical tendency,” a diagnosis common to women in that period. The windows of the room are barred, and there is a gate across the top of the stairs, allowing her husband to control her access to the rest of the house. (x)
I really have discovered something at last.Through watching so much at night, when it changes so, I have finally found out.The front pattern does move—and no wonder! The woman behind shakes it! Sometimes I think there are a great many women behind, and sometimes only one, and she crawls around fast, and her crawling shakes it all over.Then in the very bright spots she keeps still, and in the very shady spots she just takes hold of the bars and shakes them hard.
And she is all the time trying to climb through. But nobody could climb through that pattern—it strangles so; I think that is why it has so many heads. They get through, and then the pattern strangles them off and turns them upside down, and makes their eyes white! If those heads were covered or taken off it would not be half so bad.
A woman who hates you is playing the pianoforte.
You have five hundred a year. From who? Five hundred what? No one knows. No one cares. You have it. It’s yours. Every year. All five hundred of it.
A charming man attempts to flirt with you. This is terrible.
You are in a garden, and you are astonished."