...and mate.
I said I wouldn't know what to say but I seem to have composed an entire sonata for keyboard. It could be worse; I managed to extract some thoughts from the sdkfsdfjksdasdfasds that was my brain last night.
I probably have more Thoughts but this is long enough already.
Part of me thinks it is a little ridiculous to be that invested in yet another story about a rich tormented white guy. Marthe really says it all: "How nice to go through life being male, pretty, and wanted." BUT IT IS SUCH A GOOD STORY. Also I am half in love with him and half want to be his overprotective sibling (this explains some of my frustration with Richard). Healthy boundaries, moi?
Lymond is my favorite character. I can't help it.
I rather disapprove of Sybilla's secret-keeping. Clearly keeping promises is an admirable family trait ("If I make a promise, I keep it"), but the intent behind the promise matters too. There was a point when the secret began to hurt the people it was meant to protect, and she should have confided in Francis then.
I was so caught up with the Crawfords that Jerott and Marthe didn't have the chance to break my heart like they did in Pawn. Okay, I was quite a bit less invested in Marthe in PF than in Jerott's hopeless love for Lymond, but…why do they not deserve happiness? Why does Jerott lose the second love of his life (I think it is clear that however much he may have unknowingly wanted Lymond, he does love Marthe) and go back to Malta again when it was clear before that it wasn't really for him? But on the other hand, Gabriel aside, maybe Malta was actually the right place for him, but he, like many others, was swept away on the tide of Lymond's charisma? It's a good question, whether Lymond's charisma is a good or bad thing for people caught unawares. One is compelled to make Icarus metaphors here.
Anyway, Jerott: the whole thing is incredibly unfair. I really wish there were a book about Jerott's journey post-Checkmate. It's interesting that Lymond let him go without a word. He knows what it's like in Jerott's shoes and he knows that he himself would not wish to be stopped by well-meaning friends. But honestly, well-meaning friends are generally in the right here; you don't necessarily have the best perspective on what's good for you when you're hurting all over. When Jerott finally decided to obey Lymond's wishes, it ended in Marthe's death. But there Jerott goes, exiling himself for no good reason.
The women in these books frustrate me a little. In a lot of ways they are more fleshed out, complicated, diverse, and well-rounded than the supporting male characters. On the other hand, other than Kate and Philippa, they really aren't nice and likeable like Lymond's - oh, what'd I call them - loveable gang of French and/or Scottish homosexuals (I suppose they really are just gay for Lymond while Lymond was at least theoretically available). I think there are a lot of things you could say about why that is, but I'm leaning towards it being a side point about various kinds of power, and that same as a lot of power can corrupt, having to scrabble and fight all the time for power and agency outside the immediate role society has prescribed you also isn't conducive to making you a nice person.
Speaking of Marthe, man. I can't say she inspires anything but pity in me. Her life was a waste of an extraordinary person and an example of the importance of nurture over nature. Her death was kind of infuriating and senseless and I'm sure I would actually be infuriated if I weren't all THANK GOD IT ALL WORKED OUT FOR THE CRAWFORDS. But at some point, especially considering her strength of character, don't you become old enough to decide to stop wallowing in your misery? On the other hand, it's not like Lymond ever became old enough for that. Argh. The thing is, she speaks so much sense. Like what she says about Jerott: "Intolerance drunk is bad enough, but intolerance sober is quite insupportable."
Anyway, so her ride to Flaw Valleys: did she, in fact, decide to put her bitterness aside and give Sybilla's papers to Lymond? Was that what she was intending to do in the first place? How did her fight with Danny influence her actions? I didn't really understand much of that. Or was she riding to Jerott - because, as Lymond and Philippa, they simply cannot stay apart?
I'm not sure what I think about the revelation that Dame de Doubtance's various prophecies drove all the events in the Crawfords' lives. Maybe it's my skeptical frame of mind, but my respect for characters who just accept this crap tends to drop a little. On the other hand, the best kind of prophecy is a self-fulfilling one, and that's clearly what happened here, so… fair enough? Consistency, that's me!
Ever since
rusty_halo told me that the Peter Wimsey books were an inspiration for Lymond, I can't unsee it. Mmm, blond and tormented rich guys. The romance between Lymond and Philippa in particular is very similar to Lord Peter/Harriet, the spiritual/academic aspect of it, at least. In this instance, it was a bit overdone for my taste, or maybe I'm being cynical again in not buying that a connection at that level is possible? I mean. THEY OPEN THEIR MINDS AND TALK TO EACH OTHER. Philippa senses it when he almost dies! Try to be a little less epic, guys?
I was thinking about poor Robin Stewart and Lymond's very unjust bitterness that Robin's feelings for him were not love but hero-worship. They certainly were not love in the way you love a person when you know them, but they were pretty close to in love. Christian and Robin both saw his inner warmth and capacity for joy, same as Philippa when she realized she loved him. And the St. Mary's men love him simply for who he is. Honestly, it makes me kind of wistful, maybe even jealous a little: to have so much love and devotion in your life is amazing; it bothers me that he doesn't appreciate it enough. Like this:
RICHARD. Guys, why do I love Richard so much when he is so very infuriating? But. He loves Francis so much. The coldness, the punches, the lashing out are expressions of a broken heart and spurned overtures. Yeah, I'd be mad too. He loves his country and his family and he has principles and morals and rides through the night to meet his brother... Lymond would not ride to meet his brother if he knew he was alive. Although of course Lymond loves Richard too. I loved that bit somewhere in Checkmate when Lymond contemplates his few real friendships, including the young, tentative one he had with Richard. Lymond's estrangement from his family was what really broke my heart and kept me racing to the finish more than anything. (I... think family is important. To put it mildly. Richard and I see eye to eye on that.). So Lymond's careful efforts to bring that friendship back to life made me so very happy. The way he refrained from tweaking Richard, their talks on the boat, Richard's half-apology for returning Lymond's gift to Kevin, and, finally, Richard's refusal to leave Lymond alone in captivity and his joyous cry when he sees Lymond ride towards them... it was all wonderful.
Speaking of Lymond's friendships, he thinks about the three women with whom he had an affinity and equal friendship: two who had died and one whom he cast off. Christian Stewart, Eloise, and… Kate? Or does he mean Sybilla?
I love Danny. The names of Condé and d'Eghien and the Vidame of Chartres which had appeared with mysterious frequency in her previous discourse tended to disappear, to the disappointment of Danny, who was hoping for further details of his commander's disgusting past. He should settle down with Jerott when they're on Malta. Is Danny also exiling himself because the Tartar girl he wanted to marry died? Poor Danny. He is also one who deserves to be happy.
And since we're quoting from The Little Book of Danny Hislop, I have to mention "It would be a bloody funny death, being drowned in a watermill. Where is Suo Magnifico?" and "If that's supposed to be a straight line for the bridge, then he hasn't much experience in steering watermills." It's all fun and games until someone goes blind, gets caught in an explosion, and goes into a coma, Danny.
I haven’t got much to say about Archie except ARCHIE. God, he is wonderful. He lay in bed, worrying. Elephants gave you less bother, any day.
Likewise, I have not much to say about Adam except that if I had to choose a wife or husband from the cast of characters, I would choose to marry him.
And lastly, I'm sorry, the whole SEX STOPS MY MIGRAINES thing is hilarious.
Bits and quotes I bookmarked (in this book only)
And Jerott Blyth, standing with them in his expensive high-collared cloak and paned pourpoint wondered why, successfully settled in this handsome city, he troubled tof urther the career of someone who was, after all, no longer his commander. And why [...] he should find his gloved hands clenched, his pulse hurrying.
IT'S CALLED LOVE, JEROTT. FRIENDSHIP, IF YOU LIKE. By the way: Lymond hugged Jerott when they met. I think dolphins hundreds of miles away could hear me squee AWW, HE MISSED JEROTT! And Marthe is all, "Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" Poor Marthe.
And:
BOW CHICA BOW WOW
And: He knew how it turned you to water, that unguessed-at well of delight under the bitter intelligence. Oh, Jerott.
"She thinks, as a maiden lady, I should wear my hair down."
Lymond said repressively, "As a maiden lady, you would wear anyone down."
One did not say, to Marthe or anybody, that since one was a schoolgirl of ten, one had watched the deepening bond between Francis Crawford and one's mother.
Yes, I feel terrible for Kate. I do love that Kate's love for Lymond was acknowledged and respected, and Philippa was completely bowled over by the fact that it's herself Lymond loved. And that little, stupid "But I am her daughter" she utters as her brain processes that new piece of information was precious.
A funny bit from a serious scene (this happens often):
"Do I appear," she inquired, "crazed with lust?"
His eyes wide open, Lymond considered her. […] "Very seldom," he said.
"Madame," he said, "I have brought you milk from your cow." Okay, Lymond milking a cow: amazing. I fell in love with him all over again then. I found it hard to follow the war tactics because I was honestly more interested in the story, but I have to say that once again I half-thought that he really was going to sell out France. Of course it was all a ploy! Oh Lymond, you are so much 1337er than anybody.
Can someone explain this to me (in that same scene with Renee Jourda), after she tells him that he is the child of Béatris and the first Baron Culter: Ask one more question, and there would be nothing left to ask, ever, that mattered to him. What is that question? Whether the first baron and Sybilla had an affair?
Here you have a hawk of the lure, not of the fist. He will not come to you. If you would have him, you must lay your heart upon your hawking-glove; and feed it to him.
God, that's what she did, didn't she? I don’t really know what to say about her sacrifice to Leonard Bailey. It's just horrible. I read that scene at first thinking he assaulted her and she fought him off and killed him, probably because I couldn't believe my eyes. It all fell into place later. I must say I don't particularly like surprise rape/coercion in my plot, but it was pretty sensitively handled, for all that. Except Marthe's incredible pep talk/values dissonance extravaganza that drove Philippa from the country.
I really like the scene where Lymond meets the Scottish Commissioners after his collapse in Dieppe and is very, very flippant:
Which makes the sound, the hammer or the anvil? Which feels the concussion?
I believe I have recognized a fifth quotation? "Moab is my wash basin" and so on? Thanks, Stephen Fry.
FRENCH POETRY TIME:
Tant que je vive, mon coeur ne changera: I'm surprised there are so few hits online for the original of this poem. Apparently it was written by Marguerite of Austria and actually goes Tant que je vive mon cueur ne changera / Pour nul vivant , tant soit-il bon ou saige / Fort et puissant , riche , de hault lignaige / Mon chois est fait, autre ne se fera.
It's such a beautiful poem.
Et tes fils autour de ta table,
Arrangés, beaux et verdissans,
Comme la jeunesse agréable
D'un plant d'oliviers fleurissans.
Beautiful poem and apparently only quoted in one book, at least according to Google. (Oh, huh, it's a version of Psalm 128!)
Belle qui tiens ma vie
Captive dans tes yeux,
Qui m'as l'ame ravie
D'un souris gracieux,
Viens tot me secourir
Ou me faudra mourir.
Now, this, apparently, is quite famous. Yes, I am going to learn this. Also: Margot labourez les vignes!
Somehow, knowing what the music sounds like makes the books even more vivid than they were before. Not that I had any trouble envisioning any of it. I'm really not a very visual reader; somehow everything gets processed into reactions and emotions when I read, bypassing the stage where words ought to create visuals, but for some reason this wasn't the case with these books.
...this is really an unbelieveable amount of tl;dr. oops.
ETA: This goes without saying, but these books are awesome, and you guys are awesome. ♥ As long as we're talking about properly appreciating people.
Read this entry on Dreamwidth. (
comments.)
I probably have more Thoughts but this is long enough already.
Part of me thinks it is a little ridiculous to be that invested in yet another story about a rich tormented white guy. Marthe really says it all: "How nice to go through life being male, pretty, and wanted." BUT IT IS SUCH A GOOD STORY. Also I am half in love with him and half want to be his overprotective sibling (this explains some of my frustration with Richard). Healthy boundaries, moi?
Lymond is my favorite character. I can't help it.
I rather disapprove of Sybilla's secret-keeping. Clearly keeping promises is an admirable family trait ("If I make a promise, I keep it"), but the intent behind the promise matters too. There was a point when the secret began to hurt the people it was meant to protect, and she should have confided in Francis then.
I was so caught up with the Crawfords that Jerott and Marthe didn't have the chance to break my heart like they did in Pawn. Okay, I was quite a bit less invested in Marthe in PF than in Jerott's hopeless love for Lymond, but…why do they not deserve happiness? Why does Jerott lose the second love of his life (I think it is clear that however much he may have unknowingly wanted Lymond, he does love Marthe) and go back to Malta again when it was clear before that it wasn't really for him? But on the other hand, Gabriel aside, maybe Malta was actually the right place for him, but he, like many others, was swept away on the tide of Lymond's charisma? It's a good question, whether Lymond's charisma is a good or bad thing for people caught unawares. One is compelled to make Icarus metaphors here.
Anyway, Jerott: the whole thing is incredibly unfair. I really wish there were a book about Jerott's journey post-Checkmate. It's interesting that Lymond let him go without a word. He knows what it's like in Jerott's shoes and he knows that he himself would not wish to be stopped by well-meaning friends. But honestly, well-meaning friends are generally in the right here; you don't necessarily have the best perspective on what's good for you when you're hurting all over. When Jerott finally decided to obey Lymond's wishes, it ended in Marthe's death. But there Jerott goes, exiling himself for no good reason.
The women in these books frustrate me a little. In a lot of ways they are more fleshed out, complicated, diverse, and well-rounded than the supporting male characters. On the other hand, other than Kate and Philippa, they really aren't nice and likeable like Lymond's - oh, what'd I call them - loveable gang of French and/or Scottish homosexuals (I suppose they really are just gay for Lymond while Lymond was at least theoretically available). I think there are a lot of things you could say about why that is, but I'm leaning towards it being a side point about various kinds of power, and that same as a lot of power can corrupt, having to scrabble and fight all the time for power and agency outside the immediate role society has prescribed you also isn't conducive to making you a nice person.
Speaking of Marthe, man. I can't say she inspires anything but pity in me. Her life was a waste of an extraordinary person and an example of the importance of nurture over nature. Her death was kind of infuriating and senseless and I'm sure I would actually be infuriated if I weren't all THANK GOD IT ALL WORKED OUT FOR THE CRAWFORDS. But at some point, especially considering her strength of character, don't you become old enough to decide to stop wallowing in your misery? On the other hand, it's not like Lymond ever became old enough for that. Argh. The thing is, she speaks so much sense. Like what she says about Jerott: "Intolerance drunk is bad enough, but intolerance sober is quite insupportable."
Anyway, so her ride to Flaw Valleys: did she, in fact, decide to put her bitterness aside and give Sybilla's papers to Lymond? Was that what she was intending to do in the first place? How did her fight with Danny influence her actions? I didn't really understand much of that. Or was she riding to Jerott - because, as Lymond and Philippa, they simply cannot stay apart?
I'm not sure what I think about the revelation that Dame de Doubtance's various prophecies drove all the events in the Crawfords' lives. Maybe it's my skeptical frame of mind, but my respect for characters who just accept this crap tends to drop a little. On the other hand, the best kind of prophecy is a self-fulfilling one, and that's clearly what happened here, so… fair enough? Consistency, that's me!
Ever since
rusty_halo told me that the Peter Wimsey books were an inspiration for Lymond, I can't unsee it. Mmm, blond and tormented rich guys. The romance between Lymond and Philippa in particular is very similar to Lord Peter/Harriet, the spiritual/academic aspect of it, at least. In this instance, it was a bit overdone for my taste, or maybe I'm being cynical again in not buying that a connection at that level is possible? I mean. THEY OPEN THEIR MINDS AND TALK TO EACH OTHER. Philippa senses it when he almost dies! Try to be a little less epic, guys?
I was thinking about poor Robin Stewart and Lymond's very unjust bitterness that Robin's feelings for him were not love but hero-worship. They certainly were not love in the way you love a person when you know them, but they were pretty close to in love. Christian and Robin both saw his inner warmth and capacity for joy, same as Philippa when she realized she loved him. And the St. Mary's men love him simply for who he is. Honestly, it makes me kind of wistful, maybe even jealous a little: to have so much love and devotion in your life is amazing; it bothers me that he doesn't appreciate it enough. Like this:
RICHARD. Guys, why do I love Richard so much when he is so very infuriating? But. He loves Francis so much. The coldness, the punches, the lashing out are expressions of a broken heart and spurned overtures. Yeah, I'd be mad too. He loves his country and his family and he has principles and morals and rides through the night to meet his brother... Lymond would not ride to meet his brother if he knew he was alive. Although of course Lymond loves Richard too. I loved that bit somewhere in Checkmate when Lymond contemplates his few real friendships, including the young, tentative one he had with Richard. Lymond's estrangement from his family was what really broke my heart and kept me racing to the finish more than anything. (I... think family is important. To put it mildly. Richard and I see eye to eye on that.). So Lymond's careful efforts to bring that friendship back to life made me so very happy. The way he refrained from tweaking Richard, their talks on the boat, Richard's half-apology for returning Lymond's gift to Kevin, and, finally, Richard's refusal to leave Lymond alone in captivity and his joyous cry when he sees Lymond ride towards them... it was all wonderful.
Speaking of Lymond's friendships, he thinks about the three women with whom he had an affinity and equal friendship: two who had died and one whom he cast off. Christian Stewart, Eloise, and… Kate? Or does he mean Sybilla?
I love Danny. The names of Condé and d'Eghien and the Vidame of Chartres which had appeared with mysterious frequency in her previous discourse tended to disappear, to the disappointment of Danny, who was hoping for further details of his commander's disgusting past. He should settle down with Jerott when they're on Malta. Is Danny also exiling himself because the Tartar girl he wanted to marry died? Poor Danny. He is also one who deserves to be happy.
And since we're quoting from The Little Book of Danny Hislop, I have to mention "It would be a bloody funny death, being drowned in a watermill. Where is Suo Magnifico?" and "If that's supposed to be a straight line for the bridge, then he hasn't much experience in steering watermills." It's all fun and games until someone goes blind, gets caught in an explosion, and goes into a coma, Danny.
I haven’t got much to say about Archie except ARCHIE. God, he is wonderful. He lay in bed, worrying. Elephants gave you less bother, any day.
Likewise, I have not much to say about Adam except that if I had to choose a wife or husband from the cast of characters, I would choose to marry him.
And lastly, I'm sorry, the whole SEX STOPS MY MIGRAINES thing is hilarious.
Bits and quotes I bookmarked (in this book only)
And Jerott Blyth, standing with them in his expensive high-collared cloak and paned pourpoint wondered why, successfully settled in this handsome city, he troubled tof urther the career of someone who was, after all, no longer his commander. And why [...] he should find his gloved hands clenched, his pulse hurrying.
IT'S CALLED LOVE, JEROTT. FRIENDSHIP, IF YOU LIKE. By the way: Lymond hugged Jerott when they met. I think dolphins hundreds of miles away could hear me squee AWW, HE MISSED JEROTT! And Marthe is all, "Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" Poor Marthe.
And:
BOW CHICA BOW WOW
And: He knew how it turned you to water, that unguessed-at well of delight under the bitter intelligence. Oh, Jerott.
"She thinks, as a maiden lady, I should wear my hair down."
Lymond said repressively, "As a maiden lady, you would wear anyone down."
One did not say, to Marthe or anybody, that since one was a schoolgirl of ten, one had watched the deepening bond between Francis Crawford and one's mother.
Yes, I feel terrible for Kate. I do love that Kate's love for Lymond was acknowledged and respected, and Philippa was completely bowled over by the fact that it's herself Lymond loved. And that little, stupid "But I am her daughter" she utters as her brain processes that new piece of information was precious.
A funny bit from a serious scene (this happens often):
"Do I appear," she inquired, "crazed with lust?"
His eyes wide open, Lymond considered her. […] "Very seldom," he said.
"Madame," he said, "I have brought you milk from your cow." Okay, Lymond milking a cow: amazing. I fell in love with him all over again then. I found it hard to follow the war tactics because I was honestly more interested in the story, but I have to say that once again I half-thought that he really was going to sell out France. Of course it was all a ploy! Oh Lymond, you are so much 1337er than anybody.
Can someone explain this to me (in that same scene with Renee Jourda), after she tells him that he is the child of Béatris and the first Baron Culter: Ask one more question, and there would be nothing left to ask, ever, that mattered to him. What is that question? Whether the first baron and Sybilla had an affair?
Here you have a hawk of the lure, not of the fist. He will not come to you. If you would have him, you must lay your heart upon your hawking-glove; and feed it to him.
God, that's what she did, didn't she? I don’t really know what to say about her sacrifice to Leonard Bailey. It's just horrible. I read that scene at first thinking he assaulted her and she fought him off and killed him, probably because I couldn't believe my eyes. It all fell into place later. I must say I don't particularly like surprise rape/coercion in my plot, but it was pretty sensitively handled, for all that. Except Marthe's incredible pep talk/values dissonance extravaganza that drove Philippa from the country.
I really like the scene where Lymond meets the Scottish Commissioners after his collapse in Dieppe and is very, very flippant:
Which makes the sound, the hammer or the anvil? Which feels the concussion?
I believe I have recognized a fifth quotation? "Moab is my wash basin" and so on? Thanks, Stephen Fry.
FRENCH POETRY TIME:
Tant que je vive, mon coeur ne changera: I'm surprised there are so few hits online for the original of this poem. Apparently it was written by Marguerite of Austria and actually goes Tant que je vive mon cueur ne changera / Pour nul vivant , tant soit-il bon ou saige / Fort et puissant , riche , de hault lignaige / Mon chois est fait, autre ne se fera.
It's such a beautiful poem.
Et tes fils autour de ta table,
Arrangés, beaux et verdissans,
Comme la jeunesse agréable
D'un plant d'oliviers fleurissans.
Beautiful poem and apparently only quoted in one book, at least according to Google. (Oh, huh, it's a version of Psalm 128!)
Belle qui tiens ma vie
Captive dans tes yeux,
Qui m'as l'ame ravie
D'un souris gracieux,
Viens tot me secourir
Ou me faudra mourir.
Now, this, apparently, is quite famous. Yes, I am going to learn this. Also: Margot labourez les vignes!
Somehow, knowing what the music sounds like makes the books even more vivid than they were before. Not that I had any trouble envisioning any of it. I'm really not a very visual reader; somehow everything gets processed into reactions and emotions when I read, bypassing the stage where words ought to create visuals, but for some reason this wasn't the case with these books.
...this is really an unbelieveable amount of tl;dr. oops.
ETA: This goes without saying, but these books are awesome, and you guys are awesome. ♥ As long as we're talking about properly appreciating people.
Read this entry on Dreamwidth. (
comments.)