Blackwood Farm, Chapter Sixteen
BLACKWOOD FARM, CHAPTER 16
Quinn describes the two sets of gates that are at Blackwood Farm, and he mentions that Pops planted a pair of "great oaks" by one in memory of Sweetheart. This may be a dumb question, but how long would it take for a pair of great oaks to become, well, great? I always looked at big oaks and thought they must take centuries to get like that, but I don't know much at all about trees. Not a criticism, just a question.
Quinn says that he later found out from the Shed Men that when Pops went out to plant flowers (at least I assume that is what "multicolored impatiens" means) they thought that he seemed "confused and strangely unconcerned about the goings-on at Sugar Devil Island. One side of his face had not looked right, and they had gone to check on him."
Sounds to me like he was having a stroke? Something up with the face means a stroke, right? But do strokes take that long? Wow, I don't know much about strokes either.
Patsy went out to talk to Pops about money, telling the Shed Men on the way that she hated to have to ask for it and it wasn't fair and man, I get it Patsy. Poor kid wants to do what she loves and be independent from her parents but she can't do both. She clearly doesn't want anything to do with this family, especially not Pops, but I guess she really wants to sing, and she needs money for that. Unpleasant as we're meant to find her, I feel for her, as I've said before.
Anyway, she "came screaming back, having already called for emergency help on her car phone" and the Shed Men run over there to find Pops on the ground dead. The whole family go with him to the hospital but it's too late. Aunt Queen orders an autopsy, but isn't able to bring herself to manage the funeral arrangements, so Quinn does.
This is probably the first time I admire Quinn. He's 18 right now, if I remember right, and while that might legally be an adult in the US, I can tell you right now I would not have been capable of doing this at all. And while I've got it very easy, I'm still not as sheltered and babied as Quinn is. So good on Quinn for stepping up for this and getting through it, and not even complaining in the narrative about it.
I love flawed characters, but when a character has been as infuriating as Quinn as thus far, I'm actually glad for them to do something right.
Quinn also says Aunt Queen cries that a woman shouldn't have to bury her great-nephew, it's isn't right. So if Pops was her great-nephew...shit, Quinn is her great great great nephew! Wow! I'd actually forgotten what degree Quinn was related to her by, I thought he was her great nephew, not Pops!
Quinn says that he feels the same "cold panic" that has been slowly taking him over since Lynelle's death but that it's not at it's "worst" yet and that "in my ignorant youth, I had a 'take charge' attitude." Well, good. Quinn's been very passive for so much of this book, I'm glad that he's started taking it upon his own shoulders to do shit, whether it's rowing out into the swamp to find Rebecca or managing his grandfather's funeral affairs. This is purely a matter of taste, some people love a protagonist that is in their own head all the time and I'm sure good stories can come of it, but (perhaps because I myself am a passive person in my own head all the time) I much prefer proactive protagonists who take action, rather than having action thrust upon them. And for better or worse, Quinn is probably the best person to be doing this; he's a family member, he's handling it better than Aunt Queen, and had a better relationship with the deceased than the one other family member (Patsy). Though it's still a lot for teenager and, again, impressive. But not in an "obnoxious prodigy" way, nor in a way that makes it feel like Anne Rice is shoving it in my face how special and great he is.
There's a small bit where Quinn is picking out Pop's Sunday best for him to be buried in, and he mentions that he sends underwear too because he didn't know if it was needed or not and "I had the strange idea that Pops might want his underwear". I think this is a good time to talk about the use of small, inane details like that, and when to use or not use them.
There are moments in Anita Blake that are forever lodged into my brain for the sheer fact of how pointless they were to mention, specifically "I like Whoppers" and "I wiped my hands on napkins" Their inclusion was so utterly dull and uneeded that it stuck in my head for sheer baffled irritation as to why this was in here taking up space. Likewise, there's a lot of stuff in this book that could have been cut, and the line where he describes Lestat and says that his pants were "unimportant" but goes on to describe them anyway made my jaw drop when I read it. Most of the time, stuff like this just isn't needed.
But I think this was a time when it was. This mundane little mention is so poignant, because it captures the realism of death, that someone has to do these things, someone has to pick out the clothing for the deceased, even the underwear. It makes it feel real. And that little bit about the underwear in particuliar, which would be weird in about any other situation, is so...real?...here. I wish I could think of a better word to use but Quinn's feeling that Pops would want it just seems so human to me, and it's a humble sort of human, not grand or tragic. The lack of drama and fanfare thus far actually makes it feel more real too, and more respectful in a way I can't really express (which also makes sense when one considers Quinn is telling this story, which means Rice considered how he would do that)
Rice also doesn't linger on it. It's a relatively short, very simple passage of three sentences. But it's very effective in its briefness. In fact, I think it's at the perfect length where it's not so short as to seem totally unimportant or skipped over, but not long and hammered in to the point of pointless and irritating either.
I really wish I could write down more about what's right with this. I can break down what's wrong with a lot of things in writing very easily, and I believe that's helpful, but I think breaking down what works and why it works is even more important. Unfortunately, it seems harder, and I also suspect it's a lot more subjective. Someone else might well have a very different opinion of this, but I can say that, for me, this works, and works very well.
While Quinn is in Pop's room, Goblin appears and wraps his arms around him. Quinn kisses his cheek "and I saw his tears. A rush of the most intimate love passed out of me into him" and Quinn knows that it is "a dangerous moment."
Quinn says that Goblin understands and knows how much he loves Pops. Goblin says "Patsy bad" and puts a hand on Quinn's penis, which he brushes away. The way Goblin very obviously does have the mind of a child (and a very small child at all) really complicates this whole thing further. So much so I feel like it could really warrant a book of its own. Not that it's bad to have multiple things going on in one book if you can balance it well. In fact, I think it makes for a better, richer story. So we'll just...see how this goes and see how Rice handles it. I'm going to reserve judgement for now until it's played out till the end, or at least a little further.
Quinn tells him that "it's not Patsy's fault, she was just being Patsy, that's all" which to me doesn't seem like the best way to explain anything to Goblin. He tells him to go away, that he has to take care of things. Goblin hugs him again, surprising Quinn with his strength, then disappears. Quinn thinks "Goblin had been the image of my weeping soul. Oh, I had so misjudged Goblin, but who would ever understand?"
I don't. No, I seriously don't understand. Is he saying Goblin is like his mirror emotionally? So he shows what Quinn is really feeling? So what does that make what Goblin did to him?
Quinn goes downstairs. Patsy, Big Ramona, Jasmine, and Lolly are all there. Quinn notes that Lolly's "copper skin and rippling yellow hair just gorgeous" and it feels inauthentic and out-of-place to me for him to be paying attention to that right now. Patsy, on the other hand, has a "poofed-up stage hairstyle, and her lips were thickly made up with frosted pink lipstick."
Confession: I think frosted makeup is actually really cute. It's so 90s!
Anyway, Patsy's eyes are "glassy" and with a "tremor in her voice, a note I'd never heard before" she says "So, everybody's going to want to know what we were talking about."
She confirms that she indeed wanted money, noting that he had lots of it to give and "just wait til they read his will" but says this isn't what got him upset. What got him upset, she says, is that she told him she was HIV-positive.
Oh goddamn.
Ramona asks "What she talking about?" and Quinn explains to Big Ramona that being HIV-positive means that Patsy has "contracted the AIDs virus. She could come down with full-blown AIDS any time."
...ok so, maybe I'm reading Ramona's voice in the wrong tone but it seems to me she was just more wtfing than legitimately not knowing what HIV is? Having Quinn assume she just didn't know is a good way to show he's racist/sexist/classist. I hope this is the case. Also is it just me or is there...something nasty about that "full-blown AIDS any time" bit? I might be reading too much into it there.
Patsy notes the irony that "I'm the one that's sick and he's the one that dies because he was mad at me, mad I got it" but then says she thinks he really died of grief over Sweetheart. I can see why she'd jump to that; even if you've got a terrible relationship with your dad, I imagine it feels awful to feel you were responsible for his death in any way.
Anyway, turns out that what Patsy needed money for wasn't to make music, it was medical bills to pay, and she confessed that to him when he told her he wasn't giving her one red cent. I wonder how long she's had it, if she's at the stage she needs that? How long does that take? Was she paying bills all along? How long has she had to come crawling to this man for money not for her dream but her life? Which I imagine would only make her hate him more.
Quinn, insensitive little shit that he is, asks her how she got the virus. Patsy doesn't know, theorizing first she got it from a man, then from a needle, noting that it only takes once and she only shoots up when drunk "so here we are". Whatever the source, Patsy clearly has problems, and I don't mean the HIV. I don't think people without problems do these things. I wonder if we will ever know her full story?
She assures them she didn't get it from Seymour, and tells them not to tell him about it. My first instinct was to go NO HER BOYFRIEND HAS TO KNOW WTF PATSY but maybe she wants to tell him herself. Given that she's not someone Rice wants us to like, probably not, but maybe.
She then says she has a gig tonight but can't pay her crew. Big Ramona asks if she's implying she wants them to go ask Aunt Queen for money at a time like this, and tells Patsy to cancel the gig because she has no business playing when her father is dead. Patsy says that she's flat broke, and asks Quinn to do it for her. Instead, Quinn gives her the money clip from his pocket that belonged to Pops, which he says he was given at the hospital by the staff there. It has a thousand dollars in total in it.
I'm not as enamored with rich people as Rice is, so maybe I'm wrong, but I never got the impression they just carried oodles of cash in their pocket when they went out to garden? That seems more like a child's idea of rich people.
He asks if she's telling the truth about the HIV, and Patsy says, "Yes, and I can see you're all just crying buckets. He blew his stack when he heard. You're all just one big sympathetic family."
Patsy is right. She comes out with this horrible thing and the only reactions she gets are a total lack of one and her father being so mad he dies. No one has offered any sympathy or comfort. I can cut them a little slack since they're probably numb/overwhelmed from Pops sudden death, it's pretty common not to be able to react to anything else after a tragedy, even when normally you should/would, but no one's even said they're sorry to hear it.
Jasmine asks if anyone else knows, Patsy says no, and asks if they're worried about their B&B because there's no one else to run it, and asks if "Little Lord Tarquinn here could become the youngest bed-and-breakfast owner in the South, couldn't he?"
Finally, Quinn says he's sorry but he says it...like this: "I'm very sorry, Patsy. But it's not a death sentence anymore, being HIV. There are drugs, lots of drugs."
Ok, he's probably trying, but it just...makes me cringe with how he's assuming she doesn't know this, when she's literally said she's been paying some very big medical bills for an indefinite amount of time. She's obviously already on some kind of treatment, Quinn. Between this and explaining to Big Ramona what HIV even means, Quinn is so patronizing here. But again, if it's on purpose, it's a good flaw; of course Quinn, who was always getting praised as a genius by Lynelle and Aunt Queen, and who looks down on Patsy and the staff, thinks they don't know these things even when they obviously do.
Understandably, Patsy shoots back, "Oh save it, Little Lord Tarquinn!"
"Is that going to be my name from now on? I don't like it," I fired back"
...Quinn, that's...not really a fire back. It's not witty or even insulting.
"I was trying to tell you about medicine, advances, hopes. They have a special clinic for research at Mayfair Medical, is all I'm trying to say."
That, on the other hand, is pretty insulting. Seriously, is it just me because I don't like Quinn or does he really just sound like a condescending shit?
Patsy snipes about how "you know all about those things" and him being "Lynelle's little genius"
Jasmine actually ASKS Patsy if she's getting "decent treatment" instead of just assuming she isn't, and we learn that she's not symptomatic yet but she thinks she's "not long for this world".
She tries to leave but Ramona again says she's not doing the gig. I understand Ramona's feelings, I really truly do, but I'm on Patsy's side. Pops is dead, there's nothing more to be done for him. Patsy, on the other hand, is alive, and she needs as much money as possible to stay way, and she's trying to earn it so she doesn't have to beg it from a family she hates. And as big a taboo as this might be...I don't think she's obligated to feel bad about Pops after how he's treated her. Not just despite he's her father, but especially, really.
Quinn tries to stop her too, but she goes, even with him calling after her that she's not thinking and she'll regret this the rest of her life...since he's in any position to tell her that, after all. But again, I think this is a really good way to show how myopic Quinn is.
Oh, it gets better though---Quinn's reason for why Patsy will always regret this isn't that she really loves Pops or whatever but because "Everybody will expect you to care enough to be there."
Oh man I don't even need to break that down, huh? Rice is actually really good at the whole twisted rich old Southern family. I'm not much one for anything without witches and ghosts and monsters in it, but I think this could be a genuinely good novel of the Southern drama nature even without all the supernatural stuff (just, with the help of a good editor)
Patsy retorts that the rest of her life isn't going to be long, and tells him how Pops "went crazy" at her, cursing her, and that his final words to her were "Damn the day you were born!" and then he went down.
Yeah, Patsy is under no fucking obligation to pretend to anyone that she loved this man or that he was a good father to her. And believe me, I am someone who watched my own sibling shame and embarrass my parents, especially my mother, and cost them a ton of money and be in and out of jail and steal from us and be an addict and countless other things, and I resent him a lot for everything he put them through...so if you'd think anyone would be on the side of Pops, it'd be me. But you know what? I'm not. Partly because Rice wants me to dislike Patsy and I'm a contrarian, but more because, unlike my brother, she doesn't seem to have ever actually done harm to her family. She took a career path they didn't approve of, and had a child out of wedlock, but while her parents may be upset by this, it's not something that actually harms them. And while she may ask for money, she doesn't seem to have ever stolen from them. But Pops treats her horribly, and Sweetheart seems to have allowed it. My brother, on the other hand, was a criminal and once hit my mother in front of me. And yet my family still does not treat him the way Pops treated Patsy.
Patsy tells Quinn that if he sees Pops' ghost to tell him she hates him, and then she drives off with her boyfriend Seymour. Good for her.
Quinn decides he doesn't actually care if Patsy comes to the funeral or not because even though "everyone" will talk about it, it wouldn't do anything to lessen the pain for him. Since everything is about Quinn, that's all that matters. At no point does he mention any twinge of sympathy for Patsy, be it for her HIV or how Pops treated her.
He decides that "only being near my Jasmine or Big Ramona or Aunt Queen would help me"
My Jasmine.
Ugh.
The autopsy shows Pops had a massive heart attack, there's a super duper huge funeral and TONS of "young boys and young men" come to Quinn to tell him that Pops had been like an uncle/father to them and it surprises Quinn. I hate to sound like I have a dirty mind but maybe it turns out Pops was having relationships with these boys and men? Maybe that's what Goblin meant when he said Pops did what he did to Quinn in the shower? It seems like that kind of dirty little secret wouldn't be out of place in this book. Hell, maybe it'd explain some of his hatred for Patsy, that she could 'freely' be with as many men as she wanted.
Speaking of Patsy, her absence is a "total scandal" and "at one point it seemed everybody was talking about [it]". Quinn dislikes Patsy "a little more" every time he tells someone why she's not there, and he's not sure if he believes her claims of HIV or not.
There's frankly more about the funeral than I give a shit about; some of it is truly superfluous and should have been cut, some is just stuff I'm not interested in. One page was really sufficient, it gets dragged out three. For once, I think it actually would have been MORE tolerable if Anne Rice had thrown some of her usually-frustrating purple prose at it; if there's one place that would really be lovely, it's an Old Southern style funeral in New Orleans. It's almost odd she misses the chance; maybe I was skimming too much to catch it?
One thing of note is that the priest is a Father Kevin Mayfair, whose surname is surely not a coincidence. Quinn tells us that Kevin Mayfair is "too young to be a priest" and how "I noticed how really handsome he was" and how he's six feet tall and has red hair and green eyes and "I felt drawn to him."
Wanna know how to make me as the reader feel that Quinn doesn't actually feel any real grief at all over Pops? Have him be checking out someone, let alone the fucking PRIEST, at his FUNERAL. You can't even chalk that up to numbness, what the fuck.
Oh, and Goblin is there too and he keeps looking at Father Kevin too. Quinn also notices a "sophistication" to Goblin's expressions when previously he had seemed but a "clown".
Quinn feels as though his fits of panic and despair are a sin and like "atheism" and that "optimism is a virtue" and decides that the "mysterious stranger" from Sugar Devil Island will be apprehended or move away. There are also "security guards everywhere" who are "eyeing anyone or everyone and conferring with me repeatedly as to the 'mysterious stranger' but I saw no one whom I could connect to that being"
Aunt Queen cries a lot and Quinn thinks that "I'd never seen her so broken". Yeah, I bet she's not thinking about how hot the priest is.
After the funeral, Quinn goes to his room and dozes off in his reading chair. Rebecca's voice whispers in his ear "I know how bad you feel." and he sees the memory her being dragged in chains by a shadowy figure, and hears her scream.
He wakes up, and sees Goblin typing on the computer.
"I know all the words you know, words you type. Pops dead, like Lynelle and Sweetheart. Dead, gone, not in the body. Sadness. Spirit gone. Body left. Body washed. Body painted. Body empty. Spirit is life. This life. Life gone. Why does life leave body? People say don't know. I don't know. Quinn sad. Quinn cry. Aunt Queen cry. I am sad. But danger is coming. Danger on island. I see danger. Don't forget, Rebecca is bad. Danger to Quinn. Quinn will leave Goblin."
I have all the sympathy for Rebecca, but I also don't doubt she probably is dangerous. Quinn is the descendant of the man who murdered her, or gave her to whoever did, and the typical formula for ghost stories is revenge on descendants. She probably does want to see Blackwood Manor burn to the ground and while I don't blame her for that, it doesn't make Goblin any less right, and of course he's going to be concerned about Quinn first.
So I wonder, when he says that Rebecca will cause Quinn to leave Goblin, does he just mean, like, emotionally/romantically...or leave like Pops has "left"? And will it be Rebecca's direct doing, or whatever danger is coming from the island that Goblin senses?
See, this is what I'm reading this book for. It almost makes me disappointed I know how things end up, to be honest.
As a note, Goblin's questions about death and what it means and the soul and the afterlife are a running theme throughout Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. I haven't read them all, of course, but that's what I'm told, and that they're strongly based on her own existential issues, possibly stemming from the premature death of her young daughter. I can't say that this sort of thing is interesting to me, but that doesn't make it bad, and in fact it's a large draw for many fans. So if it pops up again, don't be surprised.
Quinn types back that the only way he could leave Goblin is if he were to die, and asks where the spirits of Pops, Sweetheart, and Lynelle have gone.
At first, there is no answer, then Goblin asks "Where did these spirits come from?"
Quinn explains that bodies are born into the world with spirits and when the bodies die the spirit leaves. Goblin asks "Where did I come from?"
Quinn asks if Goblin himself doesn't know this. I find it rather unbelievable that they never had this discussion before. True, Goblin couldn't type for a long time, but he could write by holding Quinn's hand and moving it with a crayon/pencil in it, and I'd find it perfectly believable that they could/would work out some kind of sign language. Especially since Quinn didn't have any other peers around to talk to.
Quinn continues to question him but Goblin doesn't have any answers. He simply says "I love Quinn. Quinn and Goblin one together."
While this is not the mystery I'm invested in, it is interesting and if I didn't already know what the deal with Goblin is, I'd be keen to find out. My only problem is, again, it seems downright absurd to me that Quinn never questioned Goblin before about where he came from.
Quinn tells him yes, that they are one together, and the machine clicks off. Quinn wonders who he can tell about Goblin and his concerns that he is getting stronger. After some time, Quinn asks Goblin what this "danger" is he's talking about, if it came from the stranger who entered his room.
There's no answer, but Quinn continues to ask if Goblin saw the stranger and what he looked like. There's a sort of breeze in the room but no answer, and Quinn concludes Goblin used up all his strength by typing, or perhaps doesn't want to answer.
He's tired, but decides to go check on Aunt Queen since he's man of the house now. He goes to her room and sees Father Kevin Mayfair there and at the sight of him immediately comes to the conclusion that "I knew for the first time that I found both men and women erotically beautiful. Rebecca in the lace-trimmed bed, Goblin in the warm steamy thunderstorm of the shower. Fr. Kevin Mayfair with that dark curly red hair and those green eyes and not a freckle on that pale face. Men and women."
...firstly, again, this is just...not a time I find it realistic for Quinn to be focusing on this, nor is it something that makes him look good. If I wanted to be super generous I'd say I guess someone could try to bury themselves in sex to escape grief, that's absolutely something people do as a coping mechanism, but that doesn't seem to be what's going on here. Quinn just seems disinterested in Pops' death besides worrying about appearances at the funeral and checking out Father Kevin.
It doesn't get much better when he walks by the staff and tries not to think about Jasmine's breasts and the front seam of her jeans and if they could go and do it in Patsy's bed WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO HAVE SEX IN YOUR MOTHER'S BED WHAT THE FUCK QUINN?!
He asks Jasmine what will happen now, and she says "Come sit with me, little boy lost. I've been asking myself that very question."
I don't know what's worse, having sex with your employee, or a 35 year old woman nailing a teenager she herself calls a little boy.
Either way, the chapter ends here.
Quinn describes the two sets of gates that are at Blackwood Farm, and he mentions that Pops planted a pair of "great oaks" by one in memory of Sweetheart. This may be a dumb question, but how long would it take for a pair of great oaks to become, well, great? I always looked at big oaks and thought they must take centuries to get like that, but I don't know much at all about trees. Not a criticism, just a question.
Quinn says that he later found out from the Shed Men that when Pops went out to plant flowers (at least I assume that is what "multicolored impatiens" means) they thought that he seemed "confused and strangely unconcerned about the goings-on at Sugar Devil Island. One side of his face had not looked right, and they had gone to check on him."
Sounds to me like he was having a stroke? Something up with the face means a stroke, right? But do strokes take that long? Wow, I don't know much about strokes either.
Patsy went out to talk to Pops about money, telling the Shed Men on the way that she hated to have to ask for it and it wasn't fair and man, I get it Patsy. Poor kid wants to do what she loves and be independent from her parents but she can't do both. She clearly doesn't want anything to do with this family, especially not Pops, but I guess she really wants to sing, and she needs money for that. Unpleasant as we're meant to find her, I feel for her, as I've said before.
Anyway, she "came screaming back, having already called for emergency help on her car phone" and the Shed Men run over there to find Pops on the ground dead. The whole family go with him to the hospital but it's too late. Aunt Queen orders an autopsy, but isn't able to bring herself to manage the funeral arrangements, so Quinn does.
This is probably the first time I admire Quinn. He's 18 right now, if I remember right, and while that might legally be an adult in the US, I can tell you right now I would not have been capable of doing this at all. And while I've got it very easy, I'm still not as sheltered and babied as Quinn is. So good on Quinn for stepping up for this and getting through it, and not even complaining in the narrative about it.
I love flawed characters, but when a character has been as infuriating as Quinn as thus far, I'm actually glad for them to do something right.
Quinn also says Aunt Queen cries that a woman shouldn't have to bury her great-nephew, it's isn't right. So if Pops was her great-nephew...shit, Quinn is her great great great nephew! Wow! I'd actually forgotten what degree Quinn was related to her by, I thought he was her great nephew, not Pops!
Quinn says that he feels the same "cold panic" that has been slowly taking him over since Lynelle's death but that it's not at it's "worst" yet and that "in my ignorant youth, I had a 'take charge' attitude." Well, good. Quinn's been very passive for so much of this book, I'm glad that he's started taking it upon his own shoulders to do shit, whether it's rowing out into the swamp to find Rebecca or managing his grandfather's funeral affairs. This is purely a matter of taste, some people love a protagonist that is in their own head all the time and I'm sure good stories can come of it, but (perhaps because I myself am a passive person in my own head all the time) I much prefer proactive protagonists who take action, rather than having action thrust upon them. And for better or worse, Quinn is probably the best person to be doing this; he's a family member, he's handling it better than Aunt Queen, and had a better relationship with the deceased than the one other family member (Patsy). Though it's still a lot for teenager and, again, impressive. But not in an "obnoxious prodigy" way, nor in a way that makes it feel like Anne Rice is shoving it in my face how special and great he is.
There's a small bit where Quinn is picking out Pop's Sunday best for him to be buried in, and he mentions that he sends underwear too because he didn't know if it was needed or not and "I had the strange idea that Pops might want his underwear". I think this is a good time to talk about the use of small, inane details like that, and when to use or not use them.
There are moments in Anita Blake that are forever lodged into my brain for the sheer fact of how pointless they were to mention, specifically "I like Whoppers" and "I wiped my hands on napkins" Their inclusion was so utterly dull and uneeded that it stuck in my head for sheer baffled irritation as to why this was in here taking up space. Likewise, there's a lot of stuff in this book that could have been cut, and the line where he describes Lestat and says that his pants were "unimportant" but goes on to describe them anyway made my jaw drop when I read it. Most of the time, stuff like this just isn't needed.
But I think this was a time when it was. This mundane little mention is so poignant, because it captures the realism of death, that someone has to do these things, someone has to pick out the clothing for the deceased, even the underwear. It makes it feel real. And that little bit about the underwear in particuliar, which would be weird in about any other situation, is so...real?...here. I wish I could think of a better word to use but Quinn's feeling that Pops would want it just seems so human to me, and it's a humble sort of human, not grand or tragic. The lack of drama and fanfare thus far actually makes it feel more real too, and more respectful in a way I can't really express (which also makes sense when one considers Quinn is telling this story, which means Rice considered how he would do that)
Rice also doesn't linger on it. It's a relatively short, very simple passage of three sentences. But it's very effective in its briefness. In fact, I think it's at the perfect length where it's not so short as to seem totally unimportant or skipped over, but not long and hammered in to the point of pointless and irritating either.
I really wish I could write down more about what's right with this. I can break down what's wrong with a lot of things in writing very easily, and I believe that's helpful, but I think breaking down what works and why it works is even more important. Unfortunately, it seems harder, and I also suspect it's a lot more subjective. Someone else might well have a very different opinion of this, but I can say that, for me, this works, and works very well.
While Quinn is in Pop's room, Goblin appears and wraps his arms around him. Quinn kisses his cheek "and I saw his tears. A rush of the most intimate love passed out of me into him" and Quinn knows that it is "a dangerous moment."
Quinn says that Goblin understands and knows how much he loves Pops. Goblin says "Patsy bad" and puts a hand on Quinn's penis, which he brushes away. The way Goblin very obviously does have the mind of a child (and a very small child at all) really complicates this whole thing further. So much so I feel like it could really warrant a book of its own. Not that it's bad to have multiple things going on in one book if you can balance it well. In fact, I think it makes for a better, richer story. So we'll just...see how this goes and see how Rice handles it. I'm going to reserve judgement for now until it's played out till the end, or at least a little further.
Quinn tells him that "it's not Patsy's fault, she was just being Patsy, that's all" which to me doesn't seem like the best way to explain anything to Goblin. He tells him to go away, that he has to take care of things. Goblin hugs him again, surprising Quinn with his strength, then disappears. Quinn thinks "Goblin had been the image of my weeping soul. Oh, I had so misjudged Goblin, but who would ever understand?"
I don't. No, I seriously don't understand. Is he saying Goblin is like his mirror emotionally? So he shows what Quinn is really feeling? So what does that make what Goblin did to him?
Quinn goes downstairs. Patsy, Big Ramona, Jasmine, and Lolly are all there. Quinn notes that Lolly's "copper skin and rippling yellow hair just gorgeous" and it feels inauthentic and out-of-place to me for him to be paying attention to that right now. Patsy, on the other hand, has a "poofed-up stage hairstyle, and her lips were thickly made up with frosted pink lipstick."
Confession: I think frosted makeup is actually really cute. It's so 90s!
Anyway, Patsy's eyes are "glassy" and with a "tremor in her voice, a note I'd never heard before" she says "So, everybody's going to want to know what we were talking about."
She confirms that she indeed wanted money, noting that he had lots of it to give and "just wait til they read his will" but says this isn't what got him upset. What got him upset, she says, is that she told him she was HIV-positive.
Oh goddamn.
Ramona asks "What she talking about?" and Quinn explains to Big Ramona that being HIV-positive means that Patsy has "contracted the AIDs virus. She could come down with full-blown AIDS any time."
...ok so, maybe I'm reading Ramona's voice in the wrong tone but it seems to me she was just more wtfing than legitimately not knowing what HIV is? Having Quinn assume she just didn't know is a good way to show he's racist/sexist/classist. I hope this is the case. Also is it just me or is there...something nasty about that "full-blown AIDS any time" bit? I might be reading too much into it there.
Patsy notes the irony that "I'm the one that's sick and he's the one that dies because he was mad at me, mad I got it" but then says she thinks he really died of grief over Sweetheart. I can see why she'd jump to that; even if you've got a terrible relationship with your dad, I imagine it feels awful to feel you were responsible for his death in any way.
Anyway, turns out that what Patsy needed money for wasn't to make music, it was medical bills to pay, and she confessed that to him when he told her he wasn't giving her one red cent. I wonder how long she's had it, if she's at the stage she needs that? How long does that take? Was she paying bills all along? How long has she had to come crawling to this man for money not for her dream but her life? Which I imagine would only make her hate him more.
Quinn, insensitive little shit that he is, asks her how she got the virus. Patsy doesn't know, theorizing first she got it from a man, then from a needle, noting that it only takes once and she only shoots up when drunk "so here we are". Whatever the source, Patsy clearly has problems, and I don't mean the HIV. I don't think people without problems do these things. I wonder if we will ever know her full story?
She assures them she didn't get it from Seymour, and tells them not to tell him about it. My first instinct was to go NO HER BOYFRIEND HAS TO KNOW WTF PATSY but maybe she wants to tell him herself. Given that she's not someone Rice wants us to like, probably not, but maybe.
She then says she has a gig tonight but can't pay her crew. Big Ramona asks if she's implying she wants them to go ask Aunt Queen for money at a time like this, and tells Patsy to cancel the gig because she has no business playing when her father is dead. Patsy says that she's flat broke, and asks Quinn to do it for her. Instead, Quinn gives her the money clip from his pocket that belonged to Pops, which he says he was given at the hospital by the staff there. It has a thousand dollars in total in it.
I'm not as enamored with rich people as Rice is, so maybe I'm wrong, but I never got the impression they just carried oodles of cash in their pocket when they went out to garden? That seems more like a child's idea of rich people.
He asks if she's telling the truth about the HIV, and Patsy says, "Yes, and I can see you're all just crying buckets. He blew his stack when he heard. You're all just one big sympathetic family."
Patsy is right. She comes out with this horrible thing and the only reactions she gets are a total lack of one and her father being so mad he dies. No one has offered any sympathy or comfort. I can cut them a little slack since they're probably numb/overwhelmed from Pops sudden death, it's pretty common not to be able to react to anything else after a tragedy, even when normally you should/would, but no one's even said they're sorry to hear it.
Jasmine asks if anyone else knows, Patsy says no, and asks if they're worried about their B&B because there's no one else to run it, and asks if "Little Lord Tarquinn here could become the youngest bed-and-breakfast owner in the South, couldn't he?"
Finally, Quinn says he's sorry but he says it...like this: "I'm very sorry, Patsy. But it's not a death sentence anymore, being HIV. There are drugs, lots of drugs."
Ok, he's probably trying, but it just...makes me cringe with how he's assuming she doesn't know this, when she's literally said she's been paying some very big medical bills for an indefinite amount of time. She's obviously already on some kind of treatment, Quinn. Between this and explaining to Big Ramona what HIV even means, Quinn is so patronizing here. But again, if it's on purpose, it's a good flaw; of course Quinn, who was always getting praised as a genius by Lynelle and Aunt Queen, and who looks down on Patsy and the staff, thinks they don't know these things even when they obviously do.
Understandably, Patsy shoots back, "Oh save it, Little Lord Tarquinn!"
"Is that going to be my name from now on? I don't like it," I fired back"
...Quinn, that's...not really a fire back. It's not witty or even insulting.
"I was trying to tell you about medicine, advances, hopes. They have a special clinic for research at Mayfair Medical, is all I'm trying to say."
That, on the other hand, is pretty insulting. Seriously, is it just me because I don't like Quinn or does he really just sound like a condescending shit?
Patsy snipes about how "you know all about those things" and him being "Lynelle's little genius"
Jasmine actually ASKS Patsy if she's getting "decent treatment" instead of just assuming she isn't, and we learn that she's not symptomatic yet but she thinks she's "not long for this world".
She tries to leave but Ramona again says she's not doing the gig. I understand Ramona's feelings, I really truly do, but I'm on Patsy's side. Pops is dead, there's nothing more to be done for him. Patsy, on the other hand, is alive, and she needs as much money as possible to stay way, and she's trying to earn it so she doesn't have to beg it from a family she hates. And as big a taboo as this might be...I don't think she's obligated to feel bad about Pops after how he's treated her. Not just despite he's her father, but especially, really.
Quinn tries to stop her too, but she goes, even with him calling after her that she's not thinking and she'll regret this the rest of her life...since he's in any position to tell her that, after all. But again, I think this is a really good way to show how myopic Quinn is.
Oh, it gets better though---Quinn's reason for why Patsy will always regret this isn't that she really loves Pops or whatever but because "Everybody will expect you to care enough to be there."
Oh man I don't even need to break that down, huh? Rice is actually really good at the whole twisted rich old Southern family. I'm not much one for anything without witches and ghosts and monsters in it, but I think this could be a genuinely good novel of the Southern drama nature even without all the supernatural stuff (just, with the help of a good editor)
Patsy retorts that the rest of her life isn't going to be long, and tells him how Pops "went crazy" at her, cursing her, and that his final words to her were "Damn the day you were born!" and then he went down.
Yeah, Patsy is under no fucking obligation to pretend to anyone that she loved this man or that he was a good father to her. And believe me, I am someone who watched my own sibling shame and embarrass my parents, especially my mother, and cost them a ton of money and be in and out of jail and steal from us and be an addict and countless other things, and I resent him a lot for everything he put them through...so if you'd think anyone would be on the side of Pops, it'd be me. But you know what? I'm not. Partly because Rice wants me to dislike Patsy and I'm a contrarian, but more because, unlike my brother, she doesn't seem to have ever actually done harm to her family. She took a career path they didn't approve of, and had a child out of wedlock, but while her parents may be upset by this, it's not something that actually harms them. And while she may ask for money, she doesn't seem to have ever stolen from them. But Pops treats her horribly, and Sweetheart seems to have allowed it. My brother, on the other hand, was a criminal and once hit my mother in front of me. And yet my family still does not treat him the way Pops treated Patsy.
Patsy tells Quinn that if he sees Pops' ghost to tell him she hates him, and then she drives off with her boyfriend Seymour. Good for her.
Quinn decides he doesn't actually care if Patsy comes to the funeral or not because even though "everyone" will talk about it, it wouldn't do anything to lessen the pain for him. Since everything is about Quinn, that's all that matters. At no point does he mention any twinge of sympathy for Patsy, be it for her HIV or how Pops treated her.
He decides that "only being near my Jasmine or Big Ramona or Aunt Queen would help me"
My Jasmine.
Ugh.
The autopsy shows Pops had a massive heart attack, there's a super duper huge funeral and TONS of "young boys and young men" come to Quinn to tell him that Pops had been like an uncle/father to them and it surprises Quinn. I hate to sound like I have a dirty mind but maybe it turns out Pops was having relationships with these boys and men? Maybe that's what Goblin meant when he said Pops did what he did to Quinn in the shower? It seems like that kind of dirty little secret wouldn't be out of place in this book. Hell, maybe it'd explain some of his hatred for Patsy, that she could 'freely' be with as many men as she wanted.
Speaking of Patsy, her absence is a "total scandal" and "at one point it seemed everybody was talking about [it]". Quinn dislikes Patsy "a little more" every time he tells someone why she's not there, and he's not sure if he believes her claims of HIV or not.
There's frankly more about the funeral than I give a shit about; some of it is truly superfluous and should have been cut, some is just stuff I'm not interested in. One page was really sufficient, it gets dragged out three. For once, I think it actually would have been MORE tolerable if Anne Rice had thrown some of her usually-frustrating purple prose at it; if there's one place that would really be lovely, it's an Old Southern style funeral in New Orleans. It's almost odd she misses the chance; maybe I was skimming too much to catch it?
One thing of note is that the priest is a Father Kevin Mayfair, whose surname is surely not a coincidence. Quinn tells us that Kevin Mayfair is "too young to be a priest" and how "I noticed how really handsome he was" and how he's six feet tall and has red hair and green eyes and "I felt drawn to him."
Wanna know how to make me as the reader feel that Quinn doesn't actually feel any real grief at all over Pops? Have him be checking out someone, let alone the fucking PRIEST, at his FUNERAL. You can't even chalk that up to numbness, what the fuck.
Oh, and Goblin is there too and he keeps looking at Father Kevin too. Quinn also notices a "sophistication" to Goblin's expressions when previously he had seemed but a "clown".
Quinn feels as though his fits of panic and despair are a sin and like "atheism" and that "optimism is a virtue" and decides that the "mysterious stranger" from Sugar Devil Island will be apprehended or move away. There are also "security guards everywhere" who are "eyeing anyone or everyone and conferring with me repeatedly as to the 'mysterious stranger' but I saw no one whom I could connect to that being"
Aunt Queen cries a lot and Quinn thinks that "I'd never seen her so broken". Yeah, I bet she's not thinking about how hot the priest is.
After the funeral, Quinn goes to his room and dozes off in his reading chair. Rebecca's voice whispers in his ear "I know how bad you feel." and he sees the memory her being dragged in chains by a shadowy figure, and hears her scream.
He wakes up, and sees Goblin typing on the computer.
"I know all the words you know, words you type. Pops dead, like Lynelle and Sweetheart. Dead, gone, not in the body. Sadness. Spirit gone. Body left. Body washed. Body painted. Body empty. Spirit is life. This life. Life gone. Why does life leave body? People say don't know. I don't know. Quinn sad. Quinn cry. Aunt Queen cry. I am sad. But danger is coming. Danger on island. I see danger. Don't forget, Rebecca is bad. Danger to Quinn. Quinn will leave Goblin."
I have all the sympathy for Rebecca, but I also don't doubt she probably is dangerous. Quinn is the descendant of the man who murdered her, or gave her to whoever did, and the typical formula for ghost stories is revenge on descendants. She probably does want to see Blackwood Manor burn to the ground and while I don't blame her for that, it doesn't make Goblin any less right, and of course he's going to be concerned about Quinn first.
So I wonder, when he says that Rebecca will cause Quinn to leave Goblin, does he just mean, like, emotionally/romantically...or leave like Pops has "left"? And will it be Rebecca's direct doing, or whatever danger is coming from the island that Goblin senses?
See, this is what I'm reading this book for. It almost makes me disappointed I know how things end up, to be honest.
As a note, Goblin's questions about death and what it means and the soul and the afterlife are a running theme throughout Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. I haven't read them all, of course, but that's what I'm told, and that they're strongly based on her own existential issues, possibly stemming from the premature death of her young daughter. I can't say that this sort of thing is interesting to me, but that doesn't make it bad, and in fact it's a large draw for many fans. So if it pops up again, don't be surprised.
Quinn types back that the only way he could leave Goblin is if he were to die, and asks where the spirits of Pops, Sweetheart, and Lynelle have gone.
At first, there is no answer, then Goblin asks "Where did these spirits come from?"
Quinn explains that bodies are born into the world with spirits and when the bodies die the spirit leaves. Goblin asks "Where did I come from?"
Quinn asks if Goblin himself doesn't know this. I find it rather unbelievable that they never had this discussion before. True, Goblin couldn't type for a long time, but he could write by holding Quinn's hand and moving it with a crayon/pencil in it, and I'd find it perfectly believable that they could/would work out some kind of sign language. Especially since Quinn didn't have any other peers around to talk to.
Quinn continues to question him but Goblin doesn't have any answers. He simply says "I love Quinn. Quinn and Goblin one together."
While this is not the mystery I'm invested in, it is interesting and if I didn't already know what the deal with Goblin is, I'd be keen to find out. My only problem is, again, it seems downright absurd to me that Quinn never questioned Goblin before about where he came from.
Quinn tells him yes, that they are one together, and the machine clicks off. Quinn wonders who he can tell about Goblin and his concerns that he is getting stronger. After some time, Quinn asks Goblin what this "danger" is he's talking about, if it came from the stranger who entered his room.
There's no answer, but Quinn continues to ask if Goblin saw the stranger and what he looked like. There's a sort of breeze in the room but no answer, and Quinn concludes Goblin used up all his strength by typing, or perhaps doesn't want to answer.
He's tired, but decides to go check on Aunt Queen since he's man of the house now. He goes to her room and sees Father Kevin Mayfair there and at the sight of him immediately comes to the conclusion that "I knew for the first time that I found both men and women erotically beautiful. Rebecca in the lace-trimmed bed, Goblin in the warm steamy thunderstorm of the shower. Fr. Kevin Mayfair with that dark curly red hair and those green eyes and not a freckle on that pale face. Men and women."
...firstly, again, this is just...not a time I find it realistic for Quinn to be focusing on this, nor is it something that makes him look good. If I wanted to be super generous I'd say I guess someone could try to bury themselves in sex to escape grief, that's absolutely something people do as a coping mechanism, but that doesn't seem to be what's going on here. Quinn just seems disinterested in Pops' death besides worrying about appearances at the funeral and checking out Father Kevin.
It doesn't get much better when he walks by the staff and tries not to think about Jasmine's breasts and the front seam of her jeans and if they could go and do it in Patsy's bed WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO HAVE SEX IN YOUR MOTHER'S BED WHAT THE FUCK QUINN?!
He asks Jasmine what will happen now, and she says "Come sit with me, little boy lost. I've been asking myself that very question."
I don't know what's worse, having sex with your employee, or a 35 year old woman nailing a teenager she herself calls a little boy.
Either way, the chapter ends here.