A reflection on my unnatural relationship with books..
Okay, the only thing new I have to say about the Gemma Doyle trilogy is this: If Kartik dies, I will kick some serious ass.
Because if he dies, I know where this is headed. I'll cry, and quite possibly throw the book across the room [and this one's hardback, so this means bigger dents in my wall], and sulk, and then cry some more. Then for the next two days I will be sullen and glowering. This is to say, my reaction will be far less severe than the one I had at the ending of the Tawny Man Trilogy [sequil one-and-a-half to the Farseer Trilogy].
I'd better explain my relationships with books so that you'll fully understand.
Throughout my life, the one constant I've always had has been books. You can hold them, they have a definite beginning and a definite ending, one that can't sneak up on you because you can see it coming. You can own the books, own the story, refer back to it on dark days. The fantastic worlds and sassy characters are an escape, where you can become engrossed in something beyond your own life, something far more grand. The characters weave themselves into your soul, and become the most steadfast friends you can have. Books have always been my most reliable of friends, ever since I could read. My bookshelf is now overflowing with books whose stories often are more real to me than my own life. Needless to say, when I come across a character I seriously connect with, I become extremely attached.
It started out with the Farseer Trilogy. I read that in seventh grade, and over the years I would go back and reread it, each time gleaning more from it than I had during the last reading and appreciating it more. This past year, I realized that Robin Hobb had more books from the same world.. And that the Tawny Man Trilogy is a continuation of the Farseer Trilogy, with the same characters and everything. I was delighted - those characters were some of the few who have truly taken deep root in my soul [the only characters more deeply rooted are the ones from the Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop]. One of my most honest-to-god OTP's is Fool/Fitz, from Robin Hobb's books. Theirs is perhaps the deepest love I have ever seen, and slash to boot! [Though this is debatable, due to the Fool's mysterious character.. It may actually be het after all. I prefer to think of it as slash, though.] So when my absolute favorite character from the series [I won't name names, because I don't want to ruin it in case you wish to read them - which I sooooo recommend you do!] died, I was devastated. In denial, unable to believe it, I kept stubbornly reading on even though I could barely discern the words through my tears and sobbing. Even when that character came back to life, the ending still made me extremely upset. This is the case in which I threw the book against the opposite wall of my room.
For an entire week I was inconsolable. Every time I thought about the ending of the book, tears would come to my eyes. I am not proud to say that on a few occasions I had to [likely unsuccessfully] hide the fact that I was crying during class. People must have thought I'd broken up with my boyfriend - HA! - or something.
The first time I finished properly reading the Black Jewels Trilogy, I cried and cried and cried. But there was enough potential/hope at the end that I was able to handle it. Every time I re-read the Black Jewels Trilogy, I cry at the ending. But I'm fine the next day. Not so with the Farseer/Tawny Man Trilogies. That one just ripped my heart out, man. I don't know why it affected me more than the Black Jewels Trilogy, which by far holds more of my soul, but it did. I have not yet attempted to go back and re-read Farseer/Tawny Man, as I'm a little bit afraid of triggering that week-long mourning period again.
So I think the point I was trying to get across here was... I get extremely attached to and involved in books. If Kartik dies, I will pitch a fit, but not as big of a fit as we have seen on my record.
Because if he dies, I know where this is headed. I'll cry, and quite possibly throw the book across the room [and this one's hardback, so this means bigger dents in my wall], and sulk, and then cry some more. Then for the next two days I will be sullen and glowering. This is to say, my reaction will be far less severe than the one I had at the ending of the Tawny Man Trilogy [sequil one-and-a-half to the Farseer Trilogy].
I'd better explain my relationships with books so that you'll fully understand.
Throughout my life, the one constant I've always had has been books. You can hold them, they have a definite beginning and a definite ending, one that can't sneak up on you because you can see it coming. You can own the books, own the story, refer back to it on dark days. The fantastic worlds and sassy characters are an escape, where you can become engrossed in something beyond your own life, something far more grand. The characters weave themselves into your soul, and become the most steadfast friends you can have. Books have always been my most reliable of friends, ever since I could read. My bookshelf is now overflowing with books whose stories often are more real to me than my own life. Needless to say, when I come across a character I seriously connect with, I become extremely attached.
It started out with the Farseer Trilogy. I read that in seventh grade, and over the years I would go back and reread it, each time gleaning more from it than I had during the last reading and appreciating it more. This past year, I realized that Robin Hobb had more books from the same world.. And that the Tawny Man Trilogy is a continuation of the Farseer Trilogy, with the same characters and everything. I was delighted - those characters were some of the few who have truly taken deep root in my soul [the only characters more deeply rooted are the ones from the Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop]. One of my most honest-to-god OTP's is Fool/Fitz, from Robin Hobb's books. Theirs is perhaps the deepest love I have ever seen, and slash to boot! [Though this is debatable, due to the Fool's mysterious character.. It may actually be het after all. I prefer to think of it as slash, though.] So when my absolute favorite character from the series [I won't name names, because I don't want to ruin it in case you wish to read them - which I sooooo recommend you do!] died, I was devastated. In denial, unable to believe it, I kept stubbornly reading on even though I could barely discern the words through my tears and sobbing. Even when that character came back to life, the ending still made me extremely upset. This is the case in which I threw the book against the opposite wall of my room.
For an entire week I was inconsolable. Every time I thought about the ending of the book, tears would come to my eyes. I am not proud to say that on a few occasions I had to [likely unsuccessfully] hide the fact that I was crying during class. People must have thought I'd broken up with my boyfriend - HA! - or something.
The first time I finished properly reading the Black Jewels Trilogy, I cried and cried and cried. But there was enough potential/hope at the end that I was able to handle it. Every time I re-read the Black Jewels Trilogy, I cry at the ending. But I'm fine the next day. Not so with the Farseer/Tawny Man Trilogies. That one just ripped my heart out, man. I don't know why it affected me more than the Black Jewels Trilogy, which by far holds more of my soul, but it did. I have not yet attempted to go back and re-read Farseer/Tawny Man, as I'm a little bit afraid of triggering that week-long mourning period again.
So I think the point I was trying to get across here was... I get extremely attached to and involved in books. If Kartik dies, I will pitch a fit, but not as big of a fit as we have seen on my record.