Yes, I'm stuck in George R. R. Martin's A Song Of Ice and Fire series. Happily so! I'm starting to worry that I'll get the the end of book five and be left hanging. That sounds excruciating! I almost want to slowly proceed and hope book six is released sooner than later.
The fourth installment, A Feast for Crows, continues to impress. Martin so thoroughly inhabits the principal character of each chapter, I think he is the warg. There were some wonderfully satisfying developments at the end, especially around the Cersei story. I was disappointed to have this book end with so little word on Bran and John and others, but when I started reading book five, well, it was heartening. I'm also getting comfortable with a common vocabulary that includes words like jape, craven and vainglorious. It's a great ride.
Here are the (too few!) quotes I kept:
Page 286: She could not have said which she found most hurtful, the pretty girls with their waspish tongues and brittle laughter or the cold-eyed ladies who hid their disdain behind a mask of courtesy.
Page 379: The wool clung to his wet chest, drinking the brine that ran down from his hair.
Page 406: The next day the road dwindled to a pebbled thread, and finally to a mere suggestion.
Page 477: "In the game of thrones, even the humblest pieces can have wills of their own. Sometimes they refuse to make the moves you've planned for them." (Petyr)
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
A Storm of Swords
George R. R. Martin's third in his A Song of Ice and Fire series is just as compelling as the first two.
A Storm of Swords is so vast that I do start getting lost in all the characters. The appendix helps.
My quotes:
Page 83: "I've never been quite sure what the point of a eunuch is, if truth be told. It seems to me they're only men with the useful bits cut off." (Lady Olenna)
Page 84: "All these kings would do a deal better if they would put down their swords and listen to their mothers." (Lady Olenna again!)
Page 290: Jaime could not have said how long he pressed the attack. It might have been minutes or it might have been hours; time slept when swords woke.
Page 387: Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.
Page 756: All that had happened hundreds and thousands of years ago, to be sure, and some maybe never happened at all. Maester Luwin always said that Old Nan's stories shouldn't be swallowed whole.
Page 947: Half a mile north, the wildling encampments were stirring, their campfires sending up smoky fingers to scratch against the pale dawn sky.
A Storm of Swords is so vast that I do start getting lost in all the characters. The appendix helps.
My quotes:
Page 83: "I've never been quite sure what the point of a eunuch is, if truth be told. It seems to me they're only men with the useful bits cut off." (Lady Olenna)
Page 84: "All these kings would do a deal better if they would put down their swords and listen to their mothers." (Lady Olenna again!)
Page 290: Jaime could not have said how long he pressed the attack. It might have been minutes or it might have been hours; time slept when swords woke.
Page 387: Old stories are like old friends, she used to say. You have to visit them from time to time.
Page 756: All that had happened hundreds and thousands of years ago, to be sure, and some maybe never happened at all. Maester Luwin always said that Old Nan's stories shouldn't be swallowed whole.
Page 947: Half a mile north, the wildling encampments were stirring, their campfires sending up smoky fingers to scratch against the pale dawn sky.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
A Clash of Kings
I finished reading the second book of George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire (Game of Thrones) series a couple weeks ago. A Clash of Kings continues to expand the stories, so many story lines, independent and interwoven. I love it.
Check out these beautiful lines:
Page 97: The color of the ice was wont to change with every shift of the light. Now it was the deep blue of frozen rivers, now the dirty white of old snow, and when a cloud passed before the sun it darkened to the pale grey of pitted stone.
Page 147: The burning gods cast a pretty light, wreathed in their robes of shifting flame, red and orange and yellow.
Page 342: The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses.
Page 398: At sixteen, he was cursed with all the certainty of youth, unleavened by any trace of humor or self-doubt, and wed to the arrogance that came so naturally to those born blond and strong and handsome.
Page 498: The long ranks of man and horse were armored in darkness, as black as if the Smith had hammered night itself into steel.
Page 708: Dawn was breaking, and pale ripples of light shimmered on the surface of the river, shattering under the poles and re-forming when the ferry had passed.
Page 960: A spark flew, caught. Osha blew softly. A long pale flame awoke, stretching upward like a girl on her toes. Osha's face floated above it.
Check out these beautiful lines:
Page 97: The color of the ice was wont to change with every shift of the light. Now it was the deep blue of frozen rivers, now the dirty white of old snow, and when a cloud passed before the sun it darkened to the pale grey of pitted stone.
Page 147: The burning gods cast a pretty light, wreathed in their robes of shifting flame, red and orange and yellow.
Page 342: The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses.
Page 398: At sixteen, he was cursed with all the certainty of youth, unleavened by any trace of humor or self-doubt, and wed to the arrogance that came so naturally to those born blond and strong and handsome.
Page 498: The long ranks of man and horse were armored in darkness, as black as if the Smith had hammered night itself into steel.
Page 708: Dawn was breaking, and pale ripples of light shimmered on the surface of the river, shattering under the poles and re-forming when the ferry had passed.
Page 960: A spark flew, caught. Osha blew softly. A long pale flame awoke, stretching upward like a girl on her toes. Osha's face floated above it.
Saturday, March 28, 2015
A Game of Thrones
Although I don't have HBO at home, I did see the first three seasons of Game of Thrones before I started reading the A Song of Ice and Fire series. And of course the books are better, but not by much. There's nothing like a story told, and George R. R. Martin is masterful in his telling.
A Game of Thrones is a complex and epic tale, constructing a thorough world in which to lose oneself.
Page 9: When the blades met, there was no ring of metal on metal; only a high, thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain.
Page 86: Something about the howling of a wolf took a man right out of his here and now and left him in a dark forest of the mind, running naked before the pack.
Page 251: "Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust." (Grand Maester Pycelle)
Page 760: Dany called out for the men of her khas and bid them take Mirri Maz Duur and bind her hand and foot, but the maegi smiled at her as they carried her off, as if they shared a secret. A word, and Dany could have her head off... yet then what would she have? A head? If life was worthless, what was death?
I'll keep reading.
I am looking forward to finding out what happens after book three.
A Game of Thrones is a complex and epic tale, constructing a thorough world in which to lose oneself.
Page 9: When the blades met, there was no ring of metal on metal; only a high, thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain.
Page 86: Something about the howling of a wolf took a man right out of his here and now and left him in a dark forest of the mind, running naked before the pack.
Page 251: "Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust." (Grand Maester Pycelle)
Page 760: Dany called out for the men of her khas and bid them take Mirri Maz Duur and bind her hand and foot, but the maegi smiled at her as they carried her off, as if they shared a secret. A word, and Dany could have her head off... yet then what would she have? A head? If life was worthless, what was death?
I'll keep reading.
I am looking forward to finding out what happens after book three.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Ender's Game
I have been reading A Game of Thrones this year, but I subbed in an English class for three days last week and decided to read the book that they were working on: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. It was on my "list" to get to someday. Made a nice excuse to borrow the teacher's copy and be able to help the kids with the study questions. Really enjoyed it. For a sci fi book written in 1977, I found it pretty current. Most notable for me was the treatment of the human, the layers of emotions and motives and power, internal structures, and the search for identity and role separate from manipulation.
Page 102: "Listen, Ender, commanders have just as much authority as you let them have. The more you obey them, the more power they have over you." (Dink)
Page 231: Perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be.
Page 241: "...If you try and lose then it isn't your fault. But if you don't try and we lose, then it's all your fault." (Valentine)
Definitely recommend it.
Page 102: "Listen, Ender, commanders have just as much authority as you let them have. The more you obey them, the more power they have over you." (Dink)
Page 231: Perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be.
Page 241: "...If you try and lose then it isn't your fault. But if you don't try and we lose, then it's all your fault." (Valentine)
Definitely recommend it.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Black House
I'm not a fan of horror, but I started reading Stephen King after I read a book he wrote on the art of writing. And after seeing The Green Mile. I find his talent at crafting words and structuring story amazing. There is a depth and a life to his "worlds" that is beautiful. So that's why I picked up Black House, the creepy thriller that Stephen King and Peter Straub collaborated on together. I haven't read Straub before and have no way to identify who penned what lines or how they shared the writing. I don't care. I found myself in a frightening and tangible world, alongside a believable other-world. The characters were fully, roundly developed. I especially liked the blind disc jockey with his various on-air personas, his insight and his gumption.
I kept only three quotes. I'm glad I did. As I read them over again, the story comes back. And I remember why I connect to the story; it's written by people who, from what they write, seem like me.
Page 6: Like most assumptions, this one embodies an uneasy half-truth.
Page 83: Voluntarily, idly, he walked into craziness, and now he was crazy.
Page 93: Jack's grief, which has been sharpening itself underground, once again rises up to stab him, as if for the first time, bang, dead-center in the heart.
I kept only three quotes. I'm glad I did. As I read them over again, the story comes back. And I remember why I connect to the story; it's written by people who, from what they write, seem like me.
Page 6: Like most assumptions, this one embodies an uneasy half-truth.
Page 83: Voluntarily, idly, he walked into craziness, and now he was crazy.
Page 93: Jack's grief, which has been sharpening itself underground, once again rises up to stab him, as if for the first time, bang, dead-center in the heart.
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