Lena > Recent Status Updates

Love how fast paced the story; many modern fantasy writers could’ve easily padded out the length to a doorstopper trilogy. Yet I prefer Anderson’s approach.

Remarkably lyrical prose, reads almost like poetry

Wow. I’ve been devouring this in audiobook format (preceding a trip to London). The wry 19th century diction, the air of mystery and magical grandeur, the breadth of grounded historical detail… it’s really a book to get lost in. Not looking forward to finishing it :D

I like Dorothy Sayers. She's smart and she has a sense of humor.

Malouf is far more interested in character than in plot. He goes in and expands the history of most characters we meet. I have been holding my breath, waiting for conflict and violence since chapter 1 -- but this isn't that kind of book.

There are long (predictable) speeches about the fickleness of fortune and woes of exile, which do not mesh well with a fantastical plot -- this is a touch tedious.

So far a very straightforward narrative -- like a longer and more fleshed-out Decameron story. Only thorny bit: how Rosalynd's gender-swap changes her attitudes towards women. More on this later.

It's wonderful how the conflict goes beyond stereotypical racism to include the specific stakes characters have. Andy isn't just suspicious of Gemmy; he's a lonely man who desperately wishes his employer would trust him. He feels accusing Gemmy would make him worthier in other's eyes. This is essentially a simplification; I'll have to expand on this in my review :)

Estoy leyendo esto en español. :)

Two more flashback chapters, coloring in two more backgrounds. I'm not going to stop just yet to marvel at these two developments, for all their riveting character-exploration. I'm still troubled by the amount of detail we get from the flashbacks set in "white society," while there is no development of any aboriginal character in Gemmy's flashback. Let's see if this is deliberate...

The portrayal of socially-constructed narrative is fascinating. The tribe encodes their discovery of Gemmy as a mythical story: they claim he was a sea-calf who did a magic dance and transformed into a white boy. But the colonists do it too (though more subtly): Gemmy's interrogators patch the gaps in his tale with material taken from other stories of "aboriginalized whites" --it becomes a "Colonial Fairytale"

The first chapter (set in "white" society) had abundant dialog. The chapter set in "aboriginal" society has scarce detail and no dialog. Why is the text silent on the aboriginals? To keep this plot element more interesting and mysterious? Or because the chapter is fully from Gemmy's POV, and by keeping his memories and observations vague, it brings together the two societies?

Malouf = master of constructing situations and then articulating what each character feels. Writing is deft -- does not feel like a contrived tour of viewpoints.

Typical courtly declarations:

But evere ich have yloved þee
As my lif, and so þou me.

According to this poem, Thrace was the old name for Winchester.

This king sojourned in Traciens
That is a citee of noble defens
(For Winchester was cleped þo
Traciens withouten no).

I smell medieval euhemerism! Orpheus is a descendant of "King Pluto" and "King Juno,"

Þat somtime were as goddes yholde
For aventures þat þey dide and tolde.

All these battle scenes are wearying, and made me realize: the most pleasure I've gotten from this poem comes from its beauteous imagery and turns of phrase, or its up-close, emotionally-fraught scenes. This review (http://www.authorama.com/national-epi...) puts it well: Tasso was "by nature a lyric rather than an epic poet." On the other hand, his attempts at grandeur rarely inspire awe.

Whenever I watch a movie and then pick up a book, the scenes in my mind's eye unfold cinematically. Recently I've been wondering how visual culture informs literary imagery. Tasso's imagination, I think, has been pollinated by Baroque theater: so many scenes could be staged easily. The narrative sweep doesn't glide over the landscape; there is little sense for geography; scene-based plotting circles onto itself...

Ah! The descriptions of heat make me feel feverish. (Within his caves sweet Zephyr silent lies,/Still was the air, the rack nor came nor went,/But o'er the lands with lukewarm breathing flies/The southern wind, from sunburnt Afric sent,/Which thick and warm his interrupted blasts/Upon their bosoms, throats, and faces casts.)

By the way, Max Wickert in the Oxford World Classics edition has a marvelously helpful introduction. (https://books.google.com/books/about/...)

Just... wow. Some really haunting and brilliantly-observed sequences here. Book XII is legendary.

This gets really gory -- pierced hearts bursting blood, heads 'cleft in twain', severed limbs twitching after dismemberment: (Gernier's right hand she from his arme divided,/Whereof but late she had receiv'd a wound;/The hand his sword still held, although not guided,/The fingers halfe alive stirr'd on the ground...)

This book is fantastic. Soap-opera dramatic irony + copious bloodshed + a gloriously overwrought and musical Elizabethan translation = tremendous emotional and cerebral entertainment. And look how Fairfax writes! He's describing a restless and bloodthirsty knight hungering for his next tournament: (Above his head he shooke his naked blade,/And gainst the subtle aire vaine battaile made.) Genius!

Huh, I just found out that Galileo hated this book. (https://books.google.com/books?id=0hS...) He gives some scathing (and hilarious) criticisms. I personally disagree, but that shall await my review :)

How puzzling our Tasso is: he is caught between extremes of idealism (stoic martyrs, pious knights) and complex, precisely-articulated emotion (the deeply moving scene when the Christians first encounter Jerusalem). Fairfax's embellishments only heighten this contrast. The translation is as vivid and overwrought as any Mannerist painting.

That said, the poetry is impressive: (Of silver wings he tooke a shining paire/Fringed with gold, unwearied, nimble, swift;/With these he parts the windes, the clouds, the aire,/And over seas and earth himselfe doth lift,/Thus clad he cut the spheares and circles faire,/And the pure skies with sacred feathers clift;/On Libanon at first his foot he set,/And shooke his wings with roarie May-dewes wet.)

So the first book is mostly set-up: acquainting the reader with the heroes and villains. But it also serves as a training period for the reader -- Fairfax has contrived his translation in full-blown ottava rima, and to pull it off in rhyme-poor English he uses complex syntax and abundant archaisms.

Using the Edward Fairfax translation (1600). Looks promising!