#also ruza felt a little.. young? for him?

[stormyrainyday]

man no hate to sarai or ruza but i would've been ape shit over a lazlo/nero pairing... when narrative foils understand and complete each other i go fucking crazy

[alexasbookreviews]

Strange the Dreamer Review

⭐️⭐️⭐️

So... wow. Just wow. 

I have so many mixed feelings about this book it's kind of shocking. I've never had such a mixed reaction to a book. It took me 2 days to get through the first half of this book which is extremely rare for me, especially during Covid-19 isolation when there is nothing to do but read. 

Any one who reads this book expecting action and adventure in the first couple of pages will be sorely disappointed, as I was at first. Although the first half of the book is beautifully written and had some of the best descriptions of a fantasy world I’ve ever read, it was also incredibly slow. But oh man did I fly through the second half of this book! 

Beware Spoilers Ahead!

Lazlo Strange

“Lazlo owned nothing, not one single thing, but from the first the stories felt like his own hoard of gold.”

Now, let me start off by saying Lazlo Strange is the purest soul and I have never wanted to jump into a book and hug a grieving character as much as I did with Lazlo. He is and forever will be, my spirit animal. The way that he describes books is exactly how I feel and was never able to put into words. Finally, my thoughts towards books, stories, and legends are out there on paper for people to see and I feel as if someone sees me the way no one has before. And that person is Lazlo Strange (but actually it was Laini Taylor).

“Lazlo couldn't have belonged at the library more truly if he were a book himself.”

Yes Lazlo, I see you, and I feel you.

“Strange the dreamer, they called him. “That dreamer Strange.”

“He believed in magic, like a child, and in ghosts like a peasant. His nose was broken by a falling volume of fairy tales his first day on the job, and that, they said, told you everything you needed to know about strange Lazlo Strange: head in the clouds world of his own, fairy tales and fancy.”

So basically when I think about Lazlo Strange, I think about a rugged 20 year old man who on the inside is truly a fluffy teddy bear that is unable to even hurt a fly, or in this case, a moth. Such an innocent little wildflower but by the end he’s basically the Tizerkane warrior that he always dreamt of being. He did not think before scooping Sarai’s body into his arms and flying up to the citadel where he basically forced Minya to save Sarai’s soul. It was both romantic and demanding which made me fall for him even more than I had before. The last 100 pages of the book was the most action packed and lovely ending that I could have ever imagined. 

Can we talk about the character development in the span of 500 pages?! Lazlo went from being Strange, “The Dreamer” to crazy beast city saving godspawn who simultaneously saves a city while also changing people’s minds to what godspawns could truly be. Like talk about a hero! And the way he saved Sarai was simply swoon worthy. Until he singlehandedly handed Sarai to Minya’s evil mind grip. Either way, Minya was planning on taking hold of Sarai's soul but now she has the power of both Sarai AND Lazlo’s newfound powers.

Lastly, the friendship between Lazlo and Ruza kept me alive for the first half of the book. It was the best kind of friendship and I just wanted more Ruza. I didn't get nearly enough and I was laughing every time they were together.

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Ruza. “Like what” “Like I’m a beautiful book you’re about to open and plunder with your greedy mad eyes.”

“There, there,” Lazlo consoled. “You're a very fierce warrior. Don’t cry. You’re terrifying.” “Really?” asked Ruza in a pitiful little hopeful voice. “You’re not just saying that?”

Sarai

“She was young and lovely and surprised and dead. She was also blue.”

What can I possibly say about Sarai? I feel like I didn't get nearly as much of her personality as I did from Lazlo but then again, she was trapped in the citadel her whole life so what could there be to write about her. I found myself wishing I knew more about her past life but I guess thats because she knows about her own life just as much as I do.

“Sarai was the Muse of Nightmares.”

I also want to know about the other Godspawns! I couldn't help but feel furious when Feral and Ruby got together and left poor Sparrow out in the cold. I wanted Feral to push Ruby off him and go look for the people that he ACTUALLY liked. When he listed which girl he would rather be with Ruby was last on his list. Then again, Sparrow was second and she deserves to be first. Such a precious human who deserved better than what she has so far.

Overall, when it comes to Sarai’s character I hope to learn more about her character in the second book because as of now, it just seems like she’s a sad girl who spoke to someone new for the first time in her life and fell in love. It's hard not to be skeptical of Sarai and Lazlo’s love for one another because they are basically the first person of the opposite sex that they have talked to and saw a bit of interest in.

Thyon Nero

“If Lazlo was a silent baby, harshly raised by resentful monks, Thyon was a small, charming tyrant who demanded everything and was given even more.”

Thyon is the type of character that I want to hate because he’s just an overall mean person who looks out for no one but himself, yet I can’t help but feel bad for Thyon. Like when you see a ferocious puppy. It’s not the puppies fault that it grew up with aggressive circumstances. Just like a puppy, I want to adopt Thyon and teach him how to be nice to people and how to love others.

Enlighten me, Strange,” said Thyon. “In what version of the world could you possibly help me?”

In the end, Lazlo got the revenge (which he never actually wanted) by being the key to saving the Unseen City. The only saving quality I can see in Thyon was the fact that he ran to where he thought Lazlo was when he figured out that the Mesarthim that Lazlo had held had been molded. He was running to speak to Lazlo about what he had found when he could have kept it to himself. Yes, Lazlo figured it out before Thyon had the chance to tell him but it's the thought that counts! Right?

Final Thoughts

In the end, I wish the first half hadn’t been so hard to get through. It was when Lazlo and Sarai meet for the first time where I felt like the book came alive and really became something that I could really enter into and submit myself to completely. Once I got there, there was no taking me away from the strangeness of Sarai and Lazlo. 

I think Minya said it best when she said, “A man makes eyes at you, and just like that you’re ready to turn your back on us and go play house in Weep. Are you so hungry for love? I might expect as much of Ruby, but not of you.” Now, I’m not much of a fan of Mine but I can’t help but agree with her. I think that their “love story” should have started MUCH earlier than it had and that way it wouldn't feel as if they met once and the second time they saw each other were professing their love for each other. It just feels awfully realistic. Then again, they are in a world where people can control ghosts, nature, fire, weather, and dreams. So I guess realistic isn't really what Laini Taylor was looking for,

Now, the final chapter of this book ripped my heart out. Just the fact that Sarai died and is now a ghost I already didn't believe that Lazlo and Sarai could last like that. The fact that Sarai is at the complete control of Minya is 1,000,000 times worse than I ever could have imagined.

“How could it be that in his triumph he had saved everyone but her?”

Why don’t you just rip my heart out instead of making me read that line. I sincerely hope for the sake of my own heart that Muse of Nightmares is easier to get through than Strange the Dreamer because I need to know that Shaini and Lazlo will beat the shit out of Minya and whoever else gets in their way.

Some of my Favorite Quotes

“Forbid a man something and he craves it like his soul’s salvation, all the more so when that something is the source of incomparable riches.”

“Life won’t just happen to you boy,” he said. “You have to happen to it. Remember: The spirit grows sluggish when you neglect the passions.”

“All his life, time had been passing in the only way he knew time to pass: unrushed and unrushable, as sands running through an hourglass grain by grain.”

“And that’s how you go on. You lay laughter over the dark parts. The more dark parts, the more you have to laugh. With defiance, with abandon, with hysteria, any way you can.”

[sarahfazli]

Muharram & Me: Now & Then

Approaching Ashoora, I asked her how she would spend her Muharram. Wanting to go on a spiritual cleansing, she quoted Hazrat Ali (RA):

“Let go of your pride, put down your arrogance, and remember your grave”

These lines have, somehow, always resonated with me. And then sparing no detail, she narrated what Muharram meant to her.

“The first ten days of Muharram rituals were one of the most important religious rites I eagerly participated in as a child; I still do – as we speak today, although for altered reasons. There are several ways in which we memorialize the Karbala events that occured in 680 A.D. Muharram is accompanied with an ambiance of genuine sorrow, centered on the martyrdom of Imam Hussain and his family. Rituals undertaken include memorial services (majalis al-ta'ziya), flagellation (tatbir), visiting Imam Hussain's tomb in Karbala – particularly on the tenth of Ashura and the fortieth day after the battle (Ziyarat Ashura and Arba'in), public mourning processions (al-mawakib al-husayniyya) or re-enacting the battle of Karbala in the form of a play (the shabih).

As a very aware youngster, I remember my daadi crying, as the zakira recounted the brutality with which the Prophet’s (sw) family was slaughtered during Muharram. And because she wept, I wept too – unaware at the time of the reasons behind her tears. In retrospect, any spirituality was illusive, at best – despite the tears being present.

Growing up, my parents ensured I was completely conversational with, “Ya Allah, Ya Nabi, Ya Ali, Ya Fatima, Ya Hasan, Ya Hussain”. With time, I began preparing for Muharram long before the new years’ crescent was sighted. I’d attend majlis with my parents and participate in the zikr. This was when niyaz and nazr would become a regular feature at home and somberness was observed. As is characteristic of being in mourning, sober attire replaced regular (read: colourful / bright) every-day wear. I was taught very young that Muharram was one of the four most sacred months in the Islamic calendar – the other three being Rajab, Dhū al-Qa'dah, Dhu al-Ḥijjah: the seventh, eleventh and twelfth months respectively. The importance of righteousness during these months cannot be overstated:

“The number of months in the sight of Allah is twelve (in a year) – so ordained by Him the day He created the heavens and the earth; of them four are sacred; that is the straight usage. So wrong not yourselves therein and fight the pagans all together as they fight you all together. But know that Allah is with those who restrain themselves.” (Surah Tawba, verse 36)

None of this really sits well with you, when you live in an environment fraught with ethnic, political and sectarian marginalization. You know it’s a thing when children talk about the goats eating the last ten juz of “their quran”, when our Shias brethren are declared kaafir and are considered wajib e qatal. For people like me, the sting is very real. We tend to go on the back-foot: hiding our beliefs, becoming indifferent and apathetic.

But life has a way of showing us that perspectives can change. And it’s unbelievable – how vastly they change. Muharram 2017 saw me travel to Iraq for Ashoora – something I had never thought possible, even in my wildest dreams. Talking to people before I was due to travel, I realized this pilgrimage takes on a mythical, unreachable status for so many of us. Through teary eyes, they told me it was “Jannat on earth” and that this journey would be the proverbial “once in a lifetime trip”. Others requested prayers at Ruza Abbas (as) and Ruza Hussain (as) and asked that I take their names while I prayed.

Having spent a week between Karbala and Najaf, I can safely describe it as one of the most surreal experiences of my life. On my first day in Karbala, I recall watching a little girl urging her mother to kiss the entrance to Imam Hussain Mosque in respect. Her mother dutifully pressed her lips against the huge wooden doors of the mosque, before entering; I couldn’t help but follow suit. We spent 8th Muharram in Najaf; having fallen asleep on the way, I was not entirely sure of what to expect when we reached. Najaf is where the house of Hazrat Ali (RA) is – adjacent to Masjid Koofa. Standing outside the structure, I was unable to overcome its simplicity – despite the stature of its occupants. I had initially feared not having any emotion; but it was instant and I don’t recall when the first snuffle gave way to a flood of tears that I had tried so hard to control. It is indescribable, how small I felt the moment I realized where I was standing. Back in Karbala for Ashoora, I remember another young mother requesting me to help her, with her daughter outside the Masjid Hussain on the night of tenth Muharram. They say only a selected few are tasked with helping others, on such occasions; I couldn’t help but smile up to the heavens above.”

Completely engrossed in her narrative, life suddenly dealt me a sixer – which could very aptly be described as an epiphany, of sorts. She was reciting the durood shareef and it suddenly hit me.

As Muslims, we know that the Durood Ibrahimi starts with “Allahumma salli ala Muhammadiw wa ala aale Muhammad”. Recall that the “ala Muhammadiw wa ala aale Muhammad” refers to the family of Prophet Muhammad (sw). So in sending salutations to Prophet Muhammad (sw), we are also conveying our respects to His family – making them central to all of our faiths, regardless of us being either or.

And as a significant part of Islam, this is the true message of Muharram: that connecting with the rest of humanity – in its truest sense is a divine obligation. And this can happen, only after we change both our individual and collective mindsets. It is time we revisit and reassume the basic principles of thinking before acting; of connecting to people’s hearts before connecting to their minds; and purifying one’s intention before attempting to reform.

So ponder, plan or simply perish. The choice is entirely yours.