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cocoscurios · 7 months ago

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The Hour, the Spot, the Look, the Words Chapter Commentary

Chapter Thirteen: Likeness

Elizabeth gazed down at the miniature.

“Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?” asked Mrs. Reynolds.

Elizabeth felt herself flush. “A little.”

“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?”

Her face grew hotter still. “Yes, very handsome.” I mean, yeah, what else is she going to say to Mrs. Reynolds's face, but I think anyone reading propriety into that line is wildly missing the point. Which is par for the course for Tumblr, I guess. ;)

This, she knew, was tantamount to a concession to herself that she had been pretty entirely wrong about the man over the course of their acquaintance. She had been steadily accepting that point since she had received his letter in April, but this was taking it even further.

She had freely acknowledged his handsomeness when she had first seen him in Meryton, until he had slighted her; then she refused to see anything good in him at all, even in his appearance. That she could admit it again now spoke volumes, and she was not sure she was ready to examine that admission too closely.

She looked down at the miniature again, more to avoid her aunt’s eyes than anything. He was very young in it, only twenty, but it was a good likeness: the same rich, brown curls, the same bright blue eyes, the same high cheekbones, and strong jaw, and serious expression. I have a very clear image of 'my' Darcy and he's not based on anyone in particular (not even my beloved Colin Firth).

Really very good-looking. She was sure that she was quite scarlet by now.

She forced herself to listen to Mrs. Reynolds, trying to put the picture out of her mind, but there was no avoiding the thought of Mr. Darcy himself. His housekeeper sang his praises, and in language that could not be ignored or easily cast aside. I will shout about it forever: the Mrs. Reynolds portion of the book is there for a reason. Anyone who argues that Darcy is essentially a jackass before meeting Elizabeth can't read is wrong, plain and simple. Like... it's evident early on, through his friendship with Bingley, that there's something more there. Elizabeth is just too stubborn to see it and the reader is supposed to be influenced by her. We are told how good he is to Georgiana-- by WICKHAM! Then Mrs. Reynolds takes everyone by the hand and shows them what's been there all along (this does not excuse Darcy's total lack of effort towards anyone outside his inner circle, mind you). I don't know why it shocks people that Elizabeth is actually the one who has to grow the most throughout the book.

Elizabeth wished she were not so interested, wished to be more concerned about the furniture and the rooms, but every time the conversation turned away from Mr. Darcy, she desperately hoped for someone to bring up his name again.

And then they were in the picture gallery, and ashamed as she was to admit it, she was searching for his face among the portraits, impatient to see it. She saw similar features, family resemblances, a man very like - presumably his father - and then… her stomach gave a little leap when she found him, her face probably flushing once more. She stood in front of it, studying it very intently, and even as she worried that her interest would not go unnoticed, she could not tear herself away.

He was a little older in this picture than in the miniature, but still looked younger than he did currently, as she knew him; his cheekbones were sharper now, his shoulders were broader. The smile was the same though: a soft, small smile, but there was a warmth in it; warmth that she recognized but had never fully appreciated. I'm glad more and more people are realizing that Darcy smiles ALL THE TIME in the book.

Everything he had said or done, every one of his looks, had been colored by her disapproval of him. She wanted to dislike Mr. Darcy, so his smiles had been interpreted as contempt. She wanted to believe Wickham’s slander against him, so every one of his actions had been proof of his disdain and bad temper. It had become almost an obsession, finding new and interesting ways to hate him on scanty evidence. Aaaand that's the theme of the first half of the book. Look, Elizabeth Bennet is my favorite heroine in all of fiction, but the way certain sections of the fandom deify her is... something. She's so much more interesting than that.

How often had she done this, and with how many people? Charlotte, Wickham, Darcy… who knew how many others? She saw them the way she had imagined them, and not as they really were. There was a viral post here a few years back that mentioned Elizabeth being a flawless judge of character, and I was always like... GIRL, WHAT?????? WHICH BOOK DID YOU READ???? SHE IS LITERALLY THE 'PREJUDICE' OF THE TITLE (obviously, both Elizabeth and Darcy are proud AND prejudiced, but you know what I mean). THE WHOLE PLOT REVOLVES AROUND HER WILDLY MISJUDGING THE TWO MAIN MALE CHARACTERS.

Looking at his portrait, she felt as though she was seeing Mr. Darcy clearly for the first time, now that she had gotten over her prejudice against him and accepted the truth from the people who knew him best. There was nothing mocking in that smile. There never had been. There was humor and admiration in it, but she had never wanted to see any of that before.

She wondered how things would have been different, if she had.

She returned to the portrait again before they left. She was mortified at the thought of lingering there overlong, she hoped that the others were too preoccupied to see, but she needed to look at it one more time and she couldn't explain why.

“Yes, very handsome.”

If Elizabeth was admitting it again, she was admitting to many other, more consequential things.

Thank heaven she had missed him by a day. PHOTO TAKEN MOMENTS BEFORE DISASTER.

#hslw chapter commentary

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animeking114 · 2 months ago

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Gachiakuta TV Anime Gets Early Mumbai Premiere - India Gets First Taste Before Japan!

This is absolutely incredible news for Indian anime fans! Crunchyroll just announced something that's got us completely pumped - Gachiakuta is getting an exclusive advanced screening in Mumbai on July 4th, and we're honestly losing our minds over this announcement!

Mumbai Gets VIP Treatment with Early Access

Gachiakuta Official Visual The "Gachiakuta World Takeover" event is happening at PVR Icon Mumbai on July 4th - that's two whole days before the anime even debuts in Japan! Talk about getting the royal treatment! This isn't just any screening either; it's part of Crunchyroll's massive 15-country worldwide premiere tour that's taking the anime community by storm. Here's what makes this extra special: India is one of only six countries announced so far for these exclusive early screenings, with more locations being revealed soon. We're talking about being part of something truly global here!

The Story That's Got Everyone Talking

Gachiakuta isn't your typical shonen adventure - this is raw, gritty storytelling at its finest! Picture this: Rudo lives in the slums of a floating city where the wealthy literally throw their trash into the abyss below. When he's falsely accused of murder, he gets the ultimate punishment - exile to the surface with all that garbage. But here's where it gets absolutely insane - that trash has created vicious monsters, and Rudo has to master mysterious new powers and join the Cleaners to survive and seek his revenge. It's like if you mixed social commentary with monster-fighting action and cranked everything up to eleven!

Voice Cast That'll Give You Chills

The stellar Japanese voice lineup is bringing serious talent to this project: Main Characters: - Aoi Ichikawa as Rudo - perfect choice for our determined protagonist - Katsuyuki Konishi as Enjin - that deep, commanding voice we love - Yoshitsugu Matsuoka as Zanka - bringing his signature intensity - Yumiri Hanamori as Riyo - adding emotional depth to the cast - Toshiyuki Morikawa as Regto - legendary voice actor excellence

Production Powerhouse Behind the Magic

Studio BONES is handling animation duties, and honestly, we couldn't be more excited! With Fumihiko Suganuma directing and Hiroshi Seko (Chainsaw Man, Vinland Saga) writing the scripts, this anime is in incredible hands. The Creative Dream Team: - Director: Fumihiko Suganuma (The First Slam Dunk unit director) - Series Composition: Hiroshi Seko (Mob Psycho 100, Vinland Saga) - Character Design: Satoshi Ishino (Date A Live, Release the Spyce) - Music: Taku Iwasaki (Bungo Stray Dogs, Shin Kamen Rider)

Soundtrack That'll Rock Your World

Opening Theme: "HUGs" by Paledusk - expect some serious energy here Ending Theme: "Tomoshibi" by DUSTCELL - perfect for those emotional moments https://youtu.be/yeRvDchyo44?si=oYoxTVrmozNzARWb Gachiakuta opening trailerSources: Press release

When and Where to Watch

Mumbai Premiere: July 4th at PVR Icon Japan Debut: July 6th on CBC, TBS, and 26 other channels Crunchyroll Streaming: July 6th globally Streaming Territories Include: North America, Central America, South America, Europe, Africa, Oceania, Middle East, CIS (excluding Russia and Belarus), and the Indian subcontinent

The Manga Success Story

Since launching in Kodansha's Weekly Shōnen Magazine in February 2022, Gachiakuta has been absolutely crushing it with readers. Creator Kei Urana and graffiti designer Hideyoshi Ando have crafted something truly special - we're already at 14 volumes and the story just keeps getting better! Kodansha USA is bringing the English manga to international readers, so you can dive into the source material right now if you want to get ahead of the anime adaptation.

Frequently Asked Questions

How can I get tickets for the Mumbai screening on July 4th? Crunchyroll hasn't announced ticketing details yet, but keep an eye on their official social media channels and the PVR Icon Mumbai website. These exclusive screenings typically have limited seating, so you'll want to act fast once tickets go live. Will Gachiakuta have Hindi subtitles when it streams on Crunchyroll? While Crunchyroll hasn't specifically confirmed Hindi subtitles, they typically provide multiple subtitle options for major releases in the Indian subcontinent. English subtitles are guaranteed, and regional language options often follow for popular series. Is Gachiakuta suitable for younger anime fans? Given the mature themes involving social inequality, violence, and the overall dark tone of the story, Gachiakuta is definitely more appropriate for older teens and adults. The series deals with heavy topics like false accusations, exile, and survival in a harsh world, so parental guidance is recommended for younger viewers. Sources: Press release Read the full article

#Crunchyroll #Gachiakuta #July2025

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citrinitias · 3 months ago

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it starts out with a call , early in the waking hours where the sun paints the sky an iridescent rose and gentle serenity. he xuan squints through the darkness to check the clock sitting on their nightstand —— a slowly steeping wrath festers in their gut as he xuan reach for their phone , its repetitious jingle only seems to grow in volume and strokes the flames of he xuan’s annoyance as its vibrations urgently tell he xuan to pick up , hang up , whatever their sleep - fogged mind may be thinking as they chase the remnants of a more comforting time. their eyes focus as he xuan brings the screen close to their view , reading the words in the screen above them.

Incoming video chat with “ hua cheng (annoying) ”

the irritation and drowsiness from their sleep quickly fades away as he xuan sits up on their bed , vigorously rubbing their eyes and threading their fingers through inky locks , tugging against their scalp and loosening some stubborn tangles. he xuan walks over to their desk , setting down their phone against a stack of textbooks and pressing the accept button , leaning over to flip the desk lamp on and moving back in view of the phone’s camera.

the sight it beholds gives he xuan whiplash.

he’s glowing ( quite literally ) , hair combed and sticking against his glassy skin akin to wavy rivulets lovingly painted by a virtuous artist , lips glossy and moving , he xuan can’t make out the words as the call is still connecting to audio , his gaze almost piercing through the screen and looking into the depths of he xuan’s being ; it makes them shift uncomfortably against their seat as their eyes glide over to stare off at a different subject — it’s their misfortune that their eyes end up following the glaringly bold lines of his dark tendrils against his cheek to his collar bones , branching out like an obsidian river , following the lines and—

“ did you just wake up ? you look like shit. ” —hua cheng’s melodious language cuts through the trance , the lyrical teasing and light bounce in his diction brings he xuan back to the moment. if it were any other person , he xuan would have dismissed them with an uninterested quirk , but ever since they were children , he xuan had always entertained hua cheng in many ways , having grown used to his bold actions and brusque choice of words to describe those around him. their blank eyed stare returns to their usual bored glare , scoffing and crossing their arms over their chest at hua cheng’s commentary. “ yeah, what’s it look like ? you called me before my alarm even went off. do you have a morning class right soon ? if you have time to video call me , you’ve got time to get ready for your lecture. ” they counter rudely , naught with any malice , yet an obvious irritation at the fault of hua cheng’s.

“ you sound like you’re worried about me. ” he smiles wickedly , eye reflecting mischief as if to say he knew very well what he did ; it only serves to push he xuan’s buttons , their early annoyance coming back in waves.

“ oh well ! at least i woke you up at least! ” hua cheng instead continues , “ my place feels awfully lonely these days and none of the people on campus are worth my time , honestly. i wish you were here so there’s at least someone i can talk to without bringing up deadlines and other subjects of irrelevance …. and i do miss your cooking, ” hua cheng’s voice is muffled as he adjusts his position shifts and he xuan is viewing him on his side , the morning sun casts a warm golden glow against the crown of his head and he xuan has to look above their phone for a second , as if hua cheng was the sun itself. “ you want me to come over. ” he xuan confirms , and cheshire smile returns on an ample visage. like this , hua cheng can’t see clearly the subtle shifts in he xuan’s expression , he does not feel their heart leap from its confines ‘neath his chest. they’re glad for the composure in their voice , never betraying a moment caught off-guard. “ …fine. i think i can come over friday evening and stay for the weekend. don’t call me this early again though , ever. ”

hua cheng’s triumphant laughter is the last thing he xuan hears before a sullen farewell and he xuan is left staring at hua cheng’s contact photo. he xuan scoffs fondly , locks the screen and with it ; thoughts and unfathomable feelings left to fester.

—---

he xuan’s reluctance to turn down hua cheng’s many antics is how they find themself sitting awkwardly in the passenger seat of his car , with a carry-on full of clothes and their bag filled with textbooks and their laptop. the ride is silent for a second , the chatter emitting from the radio like white noise acts as a buffer as they drive past the station , he xuan rubs their hands together , shivering slightly to shrug off the bitter frost still clinging to them.

“ really , what am i to you ? a vending machine that shits out gourmet food ? ” they start , eyes glued to the red light they stopped at , as if will alone would make it turn green. hua cheng merely offers a hum in agreement , eye glued to the road , one hand gripping the wheel and the other , lounged against the ledge.

“ i grew tired of grocery finds and takeaway , plus nothing tastes as good as when you make it. ” his voice is arrogant and unyielding , taking pride in a self - cultivated truth. he xuan rolls their eyes , their expression shifts to an unimpressed quirk of a brow , almost offended on behalf of their family at his words. “ my parents would beat your ass if they heard you. they’re proud of their craft. i , am merely their apprentice. ” hua cheng offers a light , breathy laugh. it’s comfortable , how easy they fall back into the pendulumic nature between hua cheng’s liberal language , and their own tense intellectualism.

he xuan feels lighter and their glare softens into something they can’t seem to put reason to , to explain , dread and anxiety chipped away with every syllable of his joy. he xuan takes a gander on hua cheng , noticing the refined lines of his profile , the corners of his mouth pulled up in genuine laughter to their familiar banter. he xuan barely processes their own lips quirk into a smile , and as quickly as the moment arises , the vehicle moves forward and he xuan’s gaze snaps back to the road , eyes blown wide and hand fisted into their jacket’s pocket.

what the fuck , what the fuck.

—---

it’s nearly dusk by the time they reach the door to hua cheng’s apartment. it’s everything he xuan had always imagined when hua cheng told them they were going into art --- an easel over to the left , abandoned tools and sculptures stacked on top of newspapers on tables , and beneath the chaos; works of art molded from his hands -- an array of different styles that he xuan was sure that they’ve never seen before in the few art books they have read before.

hua cheng steps into the area with an air of authority as he carelessly tosses the keys on a table , falling back indolently against a nearby chair. “ so , when are you gonna cook ? ” he’s lounging against the cushions like an emperor demanding his subject’s attention , and he xuan rolls their eyes and sets the luggage and bag down against the wall , shrugging off their jacket and shoes at the door before entering his space. “ never. go starve. ” they respond blandly , ignoring the offended sound hua cheng makes even as they make their way over to the little kitchen behind him. they’re used to having smaller suppers during this time , hopefully hua cheng won’t mind.

cooking takes up only an hour when he xuan makes something as simple as congee — a familiar , easy supper that does not require too much preparation.

he xuan peeks from their spot by the counter , spotting hua cheng concentrating one of his many works , from the look in his eye and the silence that follows , he xuan dare not intrude on such a rare moment --- they have always seen saccharine smiles and the playful light in his eye ever since they were children , the cool air he always put on as a front that irritated most , but amused he xuan. but the rare treasure of seeing hua cheng so concentrated on one of his passions is an intimacy they are so privileged to experience. he xuan can see , as clearly as a dawn’s subtle welcome , hua cheng’s genuine love for this work , and they’ve seen it before , the passion and curiosity in his eye long ago — a vague memory ; a dome of countless stars / the chilly air / two children speaking in hushed voices as if the moon , the trees and the winds would listen in their conversation and carry their voices in its path.

it is only when he xuan feels their traitorous heart hammer desperately against their chest are they’re pulled from that rose - tinted view , their feet previously firmly planted on the floor twists , and their eyes shift back to the pot , feeling the steam rising and heating their cheeks even more than it already is. they grasp the ladle none too gracefully and pours their dinner into a bowl , ignoring the stinging heat of the ceramic against their palm. “ hey , get up and come here and get your own food — the bowl’s hot. ”

they turn around once more and find hua cheng walking to them , he’s suddenly so close , and he xuan has no shield to wield against him , instead shoves the bowl forward , an offhanded “ here’s yours. ” to accompany their uncharacteristically jerky movement. hua cheng only gives them a confused look , but takes the bowl from their hands nonetheless — resisting to exhale when they feel the telltale brush of his fingertips against the slope of their knuckles. he xuan watches as he brings the spoon close to his lips , a testing sip , and his eyes look up to the chef. his face spreads into a pleased expression , tongue darting out to lick his lips.

he xuan’s heart flutters , and they grab their own serving from the counter – stop it. they will the unrelenting feeling.

“ as always , nothing tastes as good as you make it. ” they can hear the smirk in his baritone , shoves a spoonful of chicken in their mouth in response , and steals a glance at hua cheng , sees the satisfied smirk and his scrutinizing gaze. it makes he xuan ache , the longer it festers , the longer he xuan avoids an unfathomable truth.

“ well it is better than ordering from the shitty burger joint across the street, ” he xuan rationalizes , breaking a piece of egg with the edge of their spoon.

they rationalize yet they fail to reason to the slight smile and fond scoff when they gaze at their friend. he xuan does not linger on ‘ what ifs ’ and ‘ what could have beens ’ , yet they find themself lingering on the loss of hua cheng’s arms , a phantom hand in their mind reaching to feel once more, his arms around his shoulders , his wild wavy tresses tickling their neck.

the limbo between friendship and something else that even the vast vocabulary of words he xuan kept tucked away in the forefront of their mind could not explain clearly.

he xuan wanted so badly to understand. the enmity they have towards this feeling clashes against their insatiable desire [ ... ] so they watch instead.

they watch his fluid motions – bringing the dinner he xuan cooked against his lips and devouring it. not with greed, no… with admiration , with reverence. they watch and comment against his teasing diction … they watch and yearn even when he stands by their side --- it feels as though he is worlds away , untouchable. unreachable.

but the reality of their nameless desire is unyielding , insisting , it rings in their mind continuously like a mantra --- there is only one chance , you have never been the most daring in your life.

ah , he xuan understands now.

—---

much later , when they have finished their dinner and banter subsides , and the moon takes its place in the sky — the hall is dark when he xuan makes their way to the warmly lit room at the end of the short walkway. there they find hua cheng lounging on his bed , eyes fixated on his phone , only looking up and smiling when he hears the light staccato of he xuan’s footsteps against the wood. he insistently pats the space beside him , beckoning he xuan to lie beside him. ( perhaps it is the nature of the countless times they have laid beside each other throughout the years , that makes it easy for he xuan to take their place at his side. )

there is a different ambience now , it feels like a puzzle piece meeting its match. like this , they’re reminded of the days before – when they met under the maple for an evening escapade with the full moon as their witness , a blanketing under the night sky — hua cheng’s finger pointing towards the stars — watching the trembling lights and listening to hua cheng explain the stars , their meanings , which constellation they belong to — but oh …

ultimately , he xuan’s gaze was fixed on him , hua cheng , the boy wonder that came to their life with a crooked smile and journeyed knees and licked at the shores of their lonesome beach – a gentle push and pull … everything falls into place ; the pounding of their heart / the stolen glances / the infectious smile that urges their own to mirror ---

and like that night many years ago , the same moon blankets them in a lovely silver light , the world slows down and he xuan is carried by the wind into hua cheng’s mercy.

“ you’ve been weird , he xuan. spaced out this whole day. ” hua cheng sits up and hovers over them , his hair creating a cavern of darkness , so not even the moon could interrupt such a private meeting between them. he xuan’s breath hitches as they gaze up to the face before theirs , there’s a sense of uncertainty when they see his usual teasing smile gone , replaced with something stern , a look of concern to match his words ; it makes he xuan shift , fingers pull away from their purchase against the bedsheets.

without thinking much of the following , he xuan’s arms reach upwards to wrap around hua cheng’s neck and bring him back down until they feel his breath against their lips , they study the subtle way hua cheng’s eye widen , their hand hovers over the back of his neck , they hope he can’t feel the way they tremble when their hand settles against his skin. he xuan lets their doubts fall away , their innermost thoughts quiet , and with certainty , with finality ; their lips meet his in a chaste kiss.

hua cheng is the first to pull away , face heated , his hand comes up to rest against he xuan’s face , his thumb caressing the hollow of their cheek — with intention , it makes the nervous tremor of their body still , and he xuan looks to him desperately , chasing the feeling of his touch against theirs.

in a hushed voice , he asks , “ did you mean to do that ? ” it’s awfully tender , picks away at he xuan’s icy exterior and leaves them breathless , bare , before his wake.

he xuan nods , “ i didn’t do it right , can i try again ? ” i love you , do you love me too ?

hua cheng’s lips on theirs and his hand cupping their cheek is the only response they gain , but he xuan meets his : again , and again. it feels like coming home , it feels like reprieve.

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rubideaux · 5 months ago

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Incoming video chat with “ hua cheng (annoying) ”

the sight it beholds gives he xuan whiplash.

—---

what the fuck , what the fuck.

—---

cooking takes up only an hour when he xuan makes something as simple as congee — a familiar , easy supper that does not require too much preparation.

he xuan’s heart flutters , and they grab their own serving from the counter – stop it. they will the unrelenting feeling.

“ well it is better than ordering from the shitty burger joint across the street, ” he xuan rationalizes , breaking a piece of egg with the edge of their spoon.

the limbo between friendship and something else that even the vast vocabulary of words he xuan kept tucked away in the forefront of their mind could not explain clearly.

he xuan wanted so badly to understand. the enmity they have towards this feeling clashes against their insatiable desire [ ... ] so they watch instead.

but the reality of their nameless desire is unyielding , insisting , it rings in their mind continuously like a mantra --- there is only one chance , you have never been the most daring in your life.

ah , he xuan understands now.

—---

and like that night many years ago , the same moon blankets them in a lovely silver light , the world slows down and he xuan is carried by the wind into hua cheng’s mercy.

in a hushed voice , he asks , “ did you mean to do that ? ” it’s awfully tender , picks away at he xuan’s icy exterior and leaves them breathless , bare , before his wake.

he xuan nods , “ i didn’t do it right , can i try again ? ” i love you , do you love me too ?

hua cheng’s lips on theirs and his hand cupping their cheek is the only response they gain , but he xuan meets his : again , and again. it feels like coming home , it feels like reprieve.

0 notes

ahb-writes · 5 months ago

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Book Review: 'Reincarnated Aristocrat' #3

As a Reincarnated Aristocrat, I’ll Use My Appraisal Skill to Rise in the World #3 by MiraijinA, Jimmy, Tristan K Hill

castle politics

fantasy

isekai

political science

social commentary

war

My Rating: 5 of 5 stars

Thus begins the march through the County of Velshdt, including a quest to overtake every notable castle and settlement standing in Lord Couran's way. Ars's reliable crew of castoff allies has proved mighty helpful for Lord Couran Salemakhia. But the closer Couran's forces march toward the county seat, the fiercer the fighting grows. And with fiercer fighting come dangerous and strategic alliances (with shady mercenary groups), new political gambles (in negotiating betrayals from would-be enemies), and the changing seasons (laying siege to a castle in winter).

Ars Louvent has unwittingly matured in real time during this battle campaign. REINCARNATED ARISTOCRAT v3 picks up where the previous book ended, and pulls readers through a lengthy but patiently and effectively articulated trundling through dirt roads, forest paths, and castle towns. This novel series reads like a soldier's journal, and it's a delightful encounter from cover to cover.

The book also hitches a ride on the irony espoused in the previous volume that Ars humbly believes himself entirely useless relative to the skill and acumen of his retinue. The current novel carves space for all of Ars's allies to show their stuff: Rietz commands a difficult field battle in pursuit of a desperate but honorable victory; Rosell's confidence and critical thinking earn him the respect of his elders; Pham makes a consequential decision to throw their lot in in with Ars, because sometimes, the world is too unstable even for a freelance, black-market information broker.

But that's not the most fun part. The cleverest addition is such that Ars levels up. Now, instead if simply reading a numbers-based stat screen, the young man now has the capacity to dig out people's backstory (e.g., place of origin, family relations, favorite foods, loyalties, ambitions). Importantly, the young man isn't cocky about it.

Ars complains to Couran, early in the book, "My power doesn't make me all-knowing!" (page 23), only to hilariously discover, soon thereafter, that his capacity to govern others with keenness and intuition is the only thing keeping he and his allies alive and in the fight.

REINCARNATED ARISTOCRAT v3 focuses on old-school siege warfare. The battle for the out-of-the-way Castle Rolto is fierce, and sees Rietz stepping deeper into his role as an attentive adjutant. The planned seizure of Castle Staatz is exciting and multifaceted, and requires layers of strategy from Rosell and Mireille. For readers interested in the week-to-week grind of uncovering next-best-case scenarios from deteriorating situations will truly enjoy this novel series.

Of the book's less favorable quirks, readers are still bereft of a decent map, and one still finds it difficult to track and trace the enormous secondary and tertiary cast of characters, even with the aid of individual notes. Regardless, AS A REINCARNATED ARISTOCRAT, I'LL USE MY APPRAISAL SKILL TO RISE IN THE WORLD v3 delivers a solid story, and future volumes are sure to follow in the same wake.

❯ ❯ Light-Novel Reviews

#light novel #review #reincarnated aristocrat #writeblr #ars louvent #appraisal skill #writing tips #writing advice #5 of 5 stars #goodreads #5 star reviews #miraijin a #information broker #summerforth empire #castle politics #solid story #relatable characters #siege warfare

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somerabbitholes · 5 years ago

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Indian Non-Fiction

A list of books on India, almost all of which are by Indian writers; most of them are about history in one way or other but they also involve politics, culture, and religion. (Doesn’t include writing in Indian languages because most of my non-English reading has been limited to fiction). I’ve also added links to online editions for ones I found.

History

Pre-, Postcolonial India (+ other assorted history)

Land of Seven Rivers by Sanjeev Sanyal - looks at Indian history through its geography; great if you want an introduction. it’s a small book but has very interesting insights; definitely would recommend. Also check his Ocean of Churn, which looks at Indian history in terms of the Indian Ocean

The Lost River: On the Trail of the Sarasvati by Michel Danino - looks into the research and evidence on the existence of the Sarasvati river and makes a case for its existence

Hooghly: The Global History of a River by Robert Ivermee - about Hooghly as a centre of a trans-Asiatic and trans-oceanic commercial network

Indians: A Brief History of a Civilization by Namit Arora - what it says, it’s new and was well-received; it paints a holistic picture to start you off

Modern South India by Rajmohan Gandhi - this one’s new, and I’ve only barely read it. It’s the history of south India from the coming of the Portuguese to modern times and it’s really important because we don’t study about this or even talk about this in mainstream conversations

India Moving by Chinmay Tumbe - on migration within India and how migrants and migrations has shaped history, politics, and policy

The Courtesan, the Mahatma, and the Italian Brahmin by Manu Pillai - a selection of stories (real ones) from Indian history; very engagingly written and very, very interesting stories. Also check other works by Pillai - The Ivory Throne and Rebel Sultans. He also writes a regular column for the Mint

Panipat by Vishwas Patil - (a translation from Marathi) a history of the Battle at Panipat in 1761, which basically created a vacuum for the East India Company to step in and grab power; really expansive and highly detailed

Rama and Ayodhya by Meenakshi Jain - on the Ramayana and its cultural spread across Indian since the ancient times; also about the Ayodhya movement

Decolonizing the Hindu Mind by Koenraad Elst - lays down the ideological and intellectual development of the broad umbrella Hindu revivalist movement; really good starting point to understand the rise and development of a significant chunk of Indian politics in post-independence years; really straightforward work, very clear in its objectives

1962: the War that Wasn’t by Shiv Kunal Verma - on the Sino-Indian conflict in 1962; haven’t read it yet, but it’s supposed to be one of the best ones on the conflict

1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh by Srinath Raghavan - on the creation of Bangladesh; places the history in a Cold War context and includes all stakeholders like the US, China and Russia; has multiple layers to its narrative.The Most Dangerous Place by Srinath Raghavan - on American foreign policy in South Asia right from the earliest times.

Cricket Country by Prashant Kidambi - about how cricket took hold in colonial India and the making of the first all-India cricket team; super excited about this book, I added it to my list too

A Corner of a Foreign Field by Ramchandra Guha - on the growth of cricket in India; takes into account race, caste, and religion in pre- and postcolonial times; looks at how the sport was adapted in local cultures and how it became an expression of resistance

Himalaya: A Human History by Ed Douglas - basically what it says; very thorough and very fresh; about more than India because it takes Himalaya as a unit and so it’s really transnational in its approach

Colonial India

Plassey by Sudeep Chakravarti - a very detailed study of the Battle of Plassey which kicked off the colonial project in India

India’s War: World War II and the Making of Modern South Asia by Srinath Raghavan - on India’s involvement and contribution in World War II

An Era of Darkness by Shashi Tharoor - about the economic impact of the British Empire in India; highly elaborate and detailed work on the economic drain in India during colonisation

Goa Inquisition by A. K. Priolkar - about the Portuguese colonisation of Goa and the subsequent evangelical campaign by the Portuguese crown and the Roman church; very, very, thorough and great if you (like me) know nothing about the whole thing

Hicky’s Bengal Gazette by James Otis - on the development and running of India’s first English newspaper; a fun read because honestly the story of the paper is very dramatic and full of political/colonial gossip; also tells you a lot about the early ideas of free press in colonial India

Sati: Evangelicals, Baptist Missionaries, and the Changing Colonial Discourse by Meenakshi Jain - about the discourse on sati and the need for reform; reviews the idea of the abolition of sati being a progressive act

Castes of Mind by Nicholas Dirks - about the intersection of caste, race, and colonial knowledge and policy

Politics, Sociology, Commentaries

The Indian Trilogy by V. S. Naipaul - a semi-autobiographical work on the kind of civilisation Naipaul sees India to be; very, very honest; paints a picture of postcolonial India over the years. the trilogy includes An Area of Darkness, India: A Wounded Civilization, and India: A Million Mutinies Now. I’ve only read the first one; but I’ve heard and read great things about them all

Republic of Caste by Anand Teltumbde - about caste in post-Independence India; looks at political and policy-related developments and their impact on caste dynamics; sort of subaltern history; it is a little difficult to understand if you don’t already have some amount of knowledge on Indian politics; also a very academic work so not exactly easy to read - I’ve only read parts of it myself

Annihilation of Caste by Dr. B. R. Ambedkar - technically a speech that was never delivered because it was thought to be too explosive; argues that caste is rooted in oppression and for the complete destruction of the caste system; an excellent work, although you do need to know about caste in its religious and political terms. Really just read all of his writing (it’s an entire 14 volume set), they’re excellent and far ahead of their time

The Idea of India by Sunil Khilnani - an analysis of sorts of what pre-colonial and colonial society and the freedom struggle mean for the republic and the kind of nation-building that has happened.

A New India of India: Individual Rights in a Civilisational State by Harsh Madhusudan, Rajeev Mantri - rethinks the “idea of India”; traces cultural and historical legacy in making of modern politics, and explores how individual rights are reconciled with the state’s goals; great thing is that it takes a fresh look at things; perfect to be read after The Idea of India

10 Judgements that Changed India by Zia Mody - recounts ten most important legal cases and court rulings in India; good starting point at understanding how the law works and its development

Republic of Religion by Abhinav Chandrachud - about secularism and religion in India in light of colonial rule, and its implications in postcolonial India

India Unbound by Gurcharan Das - it’s a history from the Independence to 2000 that focuses largely on the political economy and unpacks the kind of growth we’ve seen; it mixes the personal with the political/economic progress and it’s really easy to get into; best when read with his India Grows at Night

People

Kanshiram by Badri Narayan - a biography of Kanshi Ram, who pretty much laid the foundation of modern Dalit political movement in post-independence India; looks into how the movement developed under Kanshi Ram; a useful insight into both the man as well as early Dalit politics in India

Savarkar by Vikram Sampath - first part of a two-part biography (second part isn’t out yet) on V. D. Savarkar, one of India’s first revolutionary freedom fighter; looks at an insane variety of sources and highly detailed; a must read.

History Men by T. C. A. Raghavan - about the friendship of three of colonial India’s first native historians (Sir Jadunath Sarkar, G. S. Sardesai, Raghubir Sinh) and how they collaborated and supported each other in writing Indian history using scientific methods; also looks at their contributions to Indian history in general

Rammohun Roy by Amiya P. Sen - a biography of colonial India’s first social and religious reformers who reinterpreted Hinduism for modern times; very well-written, great for understanding how early reform worked out

Daughters of the Sun by Ira Mukhoty - about women in the Mughal dynasty. note that it only looks at women connected to and part of the royal household, but an interesting read nonetheless. Her other work, Heroines: Powerful Indian Women in Myth and History is a wonderful book on women in history right from the ancient times; also analyses and explains the changing perceptions of women

R. N. Kao: Gentleman Spymaster by Nitin Gokhale - really, really, really interesting book on R. N. Kao and the development of India’s espionage machinery

Art

Indian Art by Partha Mitter - a history, he’s one of the best on Indian art, very useful

The Dance of Shiva by Ananda Coomaraswamy - a collection of essays on Indian artistic tradition in aesthetic and philosophical terms

The Spirit of Indian Painting by B. N. Goswamy - specifically about painting; explores different themes in different regionals tyles; also check other books by Goswamy, he’s kind of a big deal in art history

Indian Painting: the Lesser Known Traditions by Anna Dallapiccola - pretty much what it says; takes into account a ton of styles and traditions that are lumped together ‘folk art’

Cities, Travel etc

The Great Indian Railway Bazaar by Paul Theroux - four-month journey from London to India by trains only; explores themes like colonialism, American imperialism, poverty. One of my favourites

The Epic City by Kushanava Chaudhary - memoir on Kolkata as the author explores and re-discovers the city when he comes back to it after staying in the US for most of his life; a lovely book, delves in the history of Kolkata a little in relation to how the city still feels it, how its people are still negotiating with it, and the kind of future the author sees for Kolkata

Bombay, Meri Jaan by Jerry Pinto & Naresh Fernandes - a collection of essays on Mumbai by a wide collection of people from Naipaul to Khushwant Singh to Manto and Salman Rushdie, compiled by Jerry Pinto; one of my favourites on the city

No Full Stops in India by Mark Tully - writings from when Tully was a journalist in India; commentaries on things he witnesses, also includes a fair amount of personal involvement; explores poverty, postcolonial development, religion and culture in post-independence India

Mumbai Fables by Gyan Prakash - a history of Mumbai city; looks at colonisation, industrial development, the regional politics, architecture and art, as well as the underworld/mafia

Banaras by Diana L. Eck - on Varanasi (Banaras), probably India’s holiest city; tells its history from its conception to now; blends religion, mythology, politics, and history. Also check Eck’s India: A Sacred Geography

The City of Djinns by William Dalrymple - semi-autobiography about living in Delhi; looks at the legacies of independence and partition while thinking about its past

The Book of Indian Journeys by Dom Moraes - it’s an anthology of essays and excerpts from works of a bunch of writers on travelling in India, it’s a favourite when I’m travelling

This is not exhaustive and I will keep updating when I find the time. I’ve tried to keep it diverse (and organised) in its content; hope you find something you like :)

#india #booklr #bookblr #bookstagram #book recommendations #book #reading #history #history major #historyblr #indian history #good reads #book list #academia #asia #south asia #desi academia #book recs

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uwmspeccoll · 4 years ago

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Typography Tuesday

GIOVANNI AND GREGORIO DE GREGORI

Among our collection of incunables (books printed before 1501) is a two-volume Venetian edition of St. Jerome’s biblical commentaries, Commentaria in Bibliam, edited by the scholar monk Bernardino Gadolo for the Gregori brothers, Giovanni and Gregorio (originally from the city of Forli, therefore often referred to in Latin as Joannes et Gregorius de Gregoriis, de Forlivio), and printed in 1497 and 1498.

The Gregori brothers began their printing business in Venice around 1480, and were certainly producing books by 1482. They continued printing together until at least 1505 (when Giovanni may have died), after which Gregorio printed on his own until about 1510. They were known for their fine typography in both Roman and Gothic fonts and were among the first to design and cast a tiny, elegant, and readable Roman typeface in what was known as the nonpareil size, or 6-pt. font, which they produced right around the same time as the printing of these volumes. In 1886, the noted American printer and type scholar Theodore Low De Vinne observed about this “remarkably neat Roman letter on a nonpareil body” that:

Considering the difficulty of cutting symmetrical letters on so small a body, and of casting them in types at this early period in the history of type founding, when tools were imperfect and experience was limited, this font of nonpareil may be regarded as a feat in type founding. . . . Types as small had been made before. . . . but these types . . . were not well cut or cast.

The elegance of their type design in both Roman and Gothic fonts is clear from the examples shown here. Gregorio was also a skilled woodcut artist and probably produced many of the decorative and historiated initials in these volumes. The fine woodcut border for the incipit of the Expositio in Psalterium shown here, however, is a re-use of one of the finest woodcut borders of the fifteenth century, drawn and cut by the Paduan-born Venetian miniaturist Benedetto Bordone for a Herodotus issued by the Gregori brothers in 1494.

The border frames a text that includes a fourteen-line historiated initial showing St. Jerome at his desk. There are several other scholar portraits that serve as historiated initials in these volumes. Shown here, for example, is the initial P, the same as the one used for Jerome, but identified here as the medieval scholar and archbishop of Genoa Jacobus de Varagine. Another for the initial E is identified as the 15th-century Italian biblical scholar Nicolò Manerbi (or Malermi).

View some of our other incunabula.

View our other Typography Tuesday posts.

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incorrectsmashbrosquotes · 4 years ago

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So I finally caught up to RWBY and there’s a major problem with it.

So, I finally got myself up to speed on RWBY after so many years of ignoring it, and there is a major problem storytelling wise.

Writing has never been this show’s strong suit. Even at my most devoted to the show I recognized this as a problem. Now, I’m not here to talk about the really major problems with RWBY, for that please avail yourself of Hbomberguy’s video: “RWBY is Disappointing and Here’s Why”. No, I’m here to discuss my biggest problem with the show, that is to say its treatment of its characters. Particularly the side characters.

Watching the show, Volume 1 - 8, I’ve noticed an upsetting trend in regards to the show’s characters. That is to say, the fans start to like a side character a whole lot, and then they get either a major downgrade or their character is hamstringed entirely. The three biggest examples for this I’m using are Adam, Raven, and Ironwood most recently.

Adam is the first case of this occurring and, in my opinion, one of the most upsetting because Adam’s character had so much potential. The Faunus in the show are supposed to be a stand in for marginalized real life groups and the White Fang were obviously meant to stand in for a Civil Rights movement gone South. Adam and Blake were at the epicenter of this story, Blake wanting to walk a more peaceful route and Adam believing that force was the only way to invoke change. That is a fascinating character dynamic, especially when you take their backstories into account, Blake being born into a wealthy or at least well-off family and Adam being poor and orphaned.

There’s so much you can do with that. Make a commentary on how it’s easier for the rich to buck injustice because they can literally afford to. Write how good intentions can spiral out of control and end up with horrific consequences. Play off Blake’s academic idealism and Adam’s down to Earth realism. People liked that! And they liked Adam. He felt like a real and interesting character.

But, instead, the writers chose to completely demonize Adam and make the conflict between Blake and him not about their differing worldviews, but about their relationship problems.

This happened with Raven, Yang’s mom, as well. She was mysterious, morally ambiguous, and had a complex motivation. She sees the world, not as good or evil, but strong and weak. The struggle to survive separates the two and by being strong you’ve earned the right to exist. There’s a lot to explore there, and a lot of conflict created between her and Yang who is much more about that classically heroic stuff.

But, rather than pursue any of that, they also go out of their way to demonize Raven and pretty much say, directly to the audience, that you aren’t supposed to like this person.

Finally, we get to Ironwood. Ironwood was a fan-favorite character, especially after Volume 7. Ironwood was both likeable and relatable, and was an authority figure who genuinely cared about human life and doing the right thing. His core character trait has always been empathy. His motivations are always towards protecting life and helping others. He’s not a glory hound and he’s not some sneering imperialist, he’s always been about helping others.

In the early volumes he creates an army of robots to minimize human casualties which is a tactically sound move, making your own force of disposable cannon fodder against another force of disposable cannon fodder. And when everything goes wrong, he doesn’t hesitate to act. During the invasion he tells it like it is to the students but goes out of his way to assure them that they can run if they must because they are, in fact, children.

Not only that, Ironwood consistently stuck up for the little guy, defending Weiss against snobby aristocrats and sending Yang, a girl who’s he’s interacted with precisely once, a brand new arm.

The ultimate irony of Ironwood’s character is that, for being based on the Tinman, his most defining character trait is his heart.

And now, as I’m sure you’ve seen the pattern by now, we come to his complete character assassination. In Volume 8 they pull a GoT Season 8 on us and make Ironwood go crazy. He turns on his friends and allies and threatens to commit genocide to get his way.

None of this makes sense. It completely contradicts all of the story beats and character development that was made in the previous volume. The only real explanation given is “his Semblance is driving him crazy”.

(side note: I genuinely hate what Semblances have become. They were originally to add character and style to each character’s fighting abilities but now they’re just another bullshit writing tool for the Authors to get out of a tight corner with)

So frequently we see characters, far more interesting than the main cast, get sidelined or character assassinated to make us like the protagonists more. Not even Team JNPR was exempt from this. People liked JNPR a lot more than they like RWBY. So, they killed off one of JNPR’s central characters and the rest got turned into Ruby’s sidekicks.

If you’re a Ruby fan and you’ve made it all the way through this, WOW, this post is way too long. I won’t say RWBY is meritless, there are things to enjoy about it. And you're not bad or dumb for engaging with it positively But it genuinely saddens me to see real and interesting characters get fucked over so the central protagonists can look better.

#incorrect super smash bros #super smash bros #incorrect quotes #smash bros #RWBY #JNPR #Adam #Adam Taurus #Raven #Raven Branwen #Ironwood #James Ironwood #character #characters study #character analysis #media critique

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cinema-tv-etc · 3 years ago

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Joseph Keppler, The Bosses of the Senate.

Progress and Poverty

The America that emerged out of the Civil War was meant to be a radically more equal place. What went wrong?

By Steven Hahn April 18, 2018

The Gilded Age, as Mark Twain enduringly described it, sticks out like a sore thumb on the American historical landscape. It is a symbol of corruption, greed, extravagance, and exploitation, of a country gone wild with excess. It also serves as a yardstick to measure the indiscretions and inequalities of subsequent times, not least our own. Still, the Gilded Age has never received the scholarly attention lavished on Reconstruction or the Progressive era—the periods before and after—though it is generally attached to the latter as a way of explaining the eventual swing toward a long period of reform.

Richard White takes another approach. In his impressive new book The Republic for Which It Stands, the latest volume in the ongoing “Oxford History of the United States,” White links the Gilded Age with Reconstruction—the two “gestated together,” he writes—and, in so doing, casts both in a different light while raising new questions about a nation born in the cauldron of civil war. Indeed, there’s a sense in which White has the Gilded Age effectively encompass the Reconstruction era; both periods, he argues, were defined by ongoing, and often explosive, struggles over the fundamentals of society and state in postbellum America: Who would rule and be ruled, whose vision of political economy and social relations would prevail, and who would pay the price? White thus speaks of the “twins” that were conceived in 1865. The first was “the world [that Americans] anticipated emerging from the Civil War,” which “died before being born”; the second “lived” but was “forever haunted by its sibling.” The book’s prologue, “Mourning Lincoln” (acknowledging an important study of the same name by Martha Hodes), makes the case for the larger social meaning of Lincoln’s assassination and sets the tone for the many pages that follow. The Republic for Which It Stands offers a sobering and generally dispiriting view of the nation’s contested road from the end of the Civil War to its emergence as an industrial-capitalist power by the turn of the 20th century.

There are no small challenges to reconceiving the three decades of American history that White covers in his book, especially given the demanding standards of comprehensiveness to which the Oxford series is devoted. Readers will find a veritable kaleidoscope of subject matter, from electoral politics, political economy, and industrial warfare to popular culture, literature, and sports. They will find figures of political and cultural prominence as well as those who are now relatively obscure, but who at the time were consequential for their ideas and activism. And they will find geopolitical breadth, as White—drawing on his expertise in Western US history—makes sure that the trans-Mississippi West and its racially and ethnically mixed denizens figure significantly in the unfolding story. Holding the more than 900 sprawling pages together is a framework in which party politics and national elections are set as the chronological markers for a developing battle between the forces of liberalism and anti-monopoly, all carried along by the commentary of the novelist, editor, and critic William Dean Howells, whose intellectual journey in many ways mirrored the political drift of the times.

White’s early chapters on Reconstruction unspool many of the thematic threads that he then weaves together for the remainder of the book. On the one hand, Republicans in Congress looked to extend Lincoln’s America—exemplified by Springfield, Illinois, a place in which artisan shops, small manufacturers, and family farms predominated—to both the West and the South. To that end, the federal government extended and expanded the power that it had accumulated during the Civil War into the postwar period and created new institutions to enact this vision. On the other hand, this newly powerful federal government still lacked the administrative capacity to see such projects through. The Freedmen’s Bureau was to supervise the transition from slavery to freedom in the former Confederacy, ensuring that contract rather than coercion mediated new labor relations, but the bureau was understaffed and underfunded. The Reconstruction Acts, the high point of Republican Radicalism, enfranchised African-American men, but the rapidly shrinking US Army of Occupation was often unable to protect the exercise of their new rights. (In both of these cases, White draws on the important recent work of the writer and historian Gregory Downs.) The results predictably saw African Americans sink into the mire of a “coercive labor system, which although not slavery, was not free labor either,” dependent as it was on “extralegal violence, coercive laws, burdensome debt relations, and the use of convict labor.”

In the trans-Mississippi West, part of the “Greater Reconstruction” (a term that White borrows from the historian Elliott West), the federal government—acting as an “imperial state”—extended its reach and promoted railroad development at the expense of Native peoples, who fought back with ferocity and determination before being relegated to reservations. In effect, the government engaged in a form of land redistribution that it had refused to impose in the South, transferring lands from the control of Native Americans into the hands of aspiring white agricultural operators (through the Homestead Act) and railroad corporations (through the Pacific Railway Act and a raft of other incentives). As White portrays it, Reconstruction—in the South and the West—was largely an uneven process of state-building that advanced a highly repressive brand of capitalist development.

In this way, despite the gains of emancipation and of advancing the principles of civil and political equality, Reconstruction laid the groundwork for the Gilded Age, with its growing wage-labor force, expanding industries, swelling cities, massive population movements, and unprecedented consolidations of wealth and power. Reconstruction also threw a dominant liberal ideology into crisis, as the dramatic expansion of the federal state and the mobilizations of working people in the South, North, and West posed new questions about the world that the abolition of slavery appeared to make possible.

https://www.thenation.com/article/archive/the-long-gilded-age/

#Gilded Age

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killing-all-joy · 5 years ago

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Dancing at 2 a.m. in our Pajamas...

I was inspired by this prompt by @sanderssides-prompts that I saw two weeks ago. I write really slow, so here it is now. I strayed a bit from the prompt, but I hope y'all like it! It’s really just fluffy Roceit. [Edit: here’s part two!]

(cw: janus is a swear-snake so swearing tw)

Janus rubbed lazily at his eyes. He was beyond irritated—for some reason, his mess of a brain decided it would be a good idea to wake up after only three hours of sleep. It was two in the morning, it was raining outside, and he had a lot to do the following day. His brain was running on very little sleep, but despite the small number of things he was able to consider clearly in his mind, he knew that he would be unable to return to his slumber without a substantial period of leaving his room. He was very well aware that he had to reach a higher state of awakeness than he was at now to be able to go back to sleep. It would never make any sense to him, but he complied because he hated sleep deprivation.

He trudged over to his closet and threw on a yellow sweatshirt over his sleep shirt. Then, clothed in that sweatshirt, a pair of black sweatpants, and fluffy black socks, he sunk out of his room, deciding not to bother with his hat. No one would be in the kitchen anyway, and he had decided with a look in a mirror that his hair, while fluffy as ever, wasn't too horribly messed up from sleep.

He planned on getting a glass of ice water, watching an episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender at a very low volume, pacing the living room a couple of times, and then returning to his room to fall back asleep.

His mind seemed to only get fuzzier; Janus hardly registered his present actions in any shape or form. He walked into the blurred haze that was the mindscape living room, grabbing a cylindrical glass from a cabinet and clumsily sliding on the tiled floor over to the freezer. He opened the door, flinching at how cold the damn thing was for his serpentine physiology. He grabbed three pieces of ice and dropped them into his glass. One fell on the floor at his carelessness so he kicked it under the refrigerator and grabbed another to replace it. He walked over to the sink, and after three incidents of fingers slipping on the metal handle, turned on the water and filled his glass. He hissed and immediately turned off the water when it started to overflow.

He sipped the cold water so it wouldn't spill onto the floor and walked away from the sink, deciding to drink in the living room. He stopped short at the door-less doorway, finally realizing that against his predictions, there was someone awake at this hour and occupying the living room.

Of all people it could be, it was Roman.

Just his luck.

His brain could hardly register just how unlucky that was. Nor could it realize that sinking out would probably be the best thing to do in that situation. Roman, his old enemy, his friend (ish), his crush: hateful, annoying, funny, talented, lovely, handso-

"Hey."

Janus' sleepy thoughts halted. He tried to meet Roman's eyes, but likely failed because he could only make out the vague outline of a face. He tried his best to show acknowledgement, but was too tired to put much effort into it.

"Why are you awake?" Roman asked from where he was sitting on an armchair.

Janus thought about that for a second, his brain refusing to remember at this time. Eyebrows furrowed, he tried his best to retrace his steps. His eyes then fell on the glass in his hand, thoughts calming as they recalled. Janus held up his water glass to indicate that it was dehydration that woke him and then made a noise, trying to ask Roman the same question.

"Ah yes, dehydration: the more vicious demon in the early hours of the morning," Roman said with a strained smile. He then bit his lip, knowing Janus wanted to know his reason for being awake as well. "I, uh, couldn't sleep. Too many exciting thoughts, too little time...the price of being Creativity, y'know?"

Janus did know. Or, at least, he was pretty sure Fully Awake Janus knew. (Fully Awake Janus could not count the number of times he'd got up for a glass of water and ended up finding Remus setting something on fire at some ungodly hour. To Fully Awake Janus, it would follow that Roman would be similar in regards to insomnia.)

Janus made a noise of understanding, shuffling over to the sofa. He clumsily set his glass on the coffee table (the contents almost spilling as he fumbled with its placement) and collapsed onto the cushions.

“Are you sure that you shouldn’t go back to sleep, Boa Conflictor? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were sleepwalking.”

When he figured out what the nickname was saying and why it fitted him, Janus snorted. He shook his head to indicate a negative to Roman’s question. “Need water,” he mumbled, taking a sip from the glass.

“Makes sense,” said Roman, moving from the armchair where he was sitting to the sofa next to Janus. “But you should go back to sleep immediately after.”

Janus shook his head again. “Won’t be able. Tried, first need to stuff.”

Roman chuckled. “’Need to stuff’? We better get you stuffing soon, or else you’ll be speaking a whole new language.”

Janus huffed and rolled his eyes. He never appreciated being teased. He was too tired (and perhaps too in love) to be angry, however.

He continued sipping the glass of water, finishing it quickly with no more commentary from Roman. He set it back down on the coffee table, deciding that he would put it in the sink in the morning when he could walk and think like a normal human being (or, well, side). He pulled his knees to his chest; he always got cold in these early hours.

His plan was thwarted, however, when Roman stood from where he was sitting on Janus’ left, picked up the glass, and headed to the kitchen. Janus made a confused noise before he saw Roman place the glass carefully in the sink. When Roman returned, Janus looked up at him in confusion.

“Didn’t havffe, I could’vve mor’hing.”

“Surprisingly, I understood you there.”

“Thanmkh.”

“You’re welcome.”

Janus buried his head in his knees, wondering what he could do that wouldn’t disturb Roman. He figured the prince would be bothered by him watching TV (and also make a lot of comments on whatever he watched, potentially waking the others), so he pondered over other activities.

He heard music start to play quietly through the room. His head lifted slightly to see Roman set his phone down gently on the coffee table. His bare feet then took two smalls steps to stand in front of Janus, where he offered him a hand.

“You said you ‘need to stuff’ before you go back to sleep,” said Roman, sounding like he was trying to mock him but not fully getting that tone across. If Fully Awake Janus were here, he’d say Roman sounded nervous. “I figured, leading you in a dance could perhaps convince your brain to allow you to sleep. Besides, I could use some physical stimulation.”

Janus looked at Roman’s trembling hand for half a second. He then removed his left arm from where it was clasped around his legs and took Roman’s right hand. As soon as Janus’ hand was in his, Roman brought Janus’ hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. Janus blushed furiously at this and was too tired to figure that he should hide such an obvious display of weakness. He let go of his legs and stood up from the sofa. He lost his balance from the position change, but Roman's reflexes were quick and he didn't let him fall more than a few inches. He pulled Janus to his feet and held him securely in his arms. Janus' face flushed an even darker red than it already was and he turned his head away from Roman, casting his gaze to the floor.

"Look at me," Roman murmured lowly.

Janus complied, despite not wanting Roman to see his blushing. He smiled warily at him, anxiety caused by the possibility of Roman seeing the real reason for his flushed cheeks.

"There we go," said Roman, at the same low volume. Janus noted how he wasn't as hyper or dramatic during these early hours, yet still just as passionate (if not more). "Since you need to do stuff in order to properly go back to sleep, I figured I could lead you in a couple of dances. Unless you think that you would collapse of fatigue like Sleeping Beauty...?"

Janus nodded. "Okay."

Roman grinned, tightening one hand's hold on Janus' waist and moving the other hand to hold Janus'. Janus was allowed a couple of seconds to sort himself into a proper dancing stance before Roman started to lead.

"I sh'ld lead."

"You'd walk into every piece of furniture in this room."

Janus made a wounded noise.

"Only because you've shown just how clumsy you are at this time of morning."

Janus huffed. "I'll st'p on foot."

"I can take it," Roman replied with a teasing smile.

Janus rolled his eyes, tightening his grip on Roman's hand and shoulder so he wouldn’t fall.

"Okay, JJ. One, two, three, four," Roman started counting under his breath to help Janus' walnut brain, "...one, two, spin, four, you're wonderful at this, Snakerella..."

---

Janus could feel his brain start to adjust to being awake and a bit of Fully Awake Janus start to have influence in his thoughts. Well, it wasn't exactly "adjust", because it wasn't gradual.

It was just a bit slower than a snap of the fingers.

Nothing was new in his actions, Roman didn't startle them, hell, it was during the middle of a slow song. But without any obvious triggering factor, his brain abruptly shifted into a more awake state of mind. And he realized his situation.

He was dancing...

...in the living room...

...with the love of his life...

...at half-past two in the goddamn morning.

Janus, still a far cry from Fully Awake Janus but with a lot of his mental capacities, couldn't quite remember the exact turn of events that got him here. Things were a bit blurry, events were splotchy, and he could only remember bits and pieces. So, ultimately, how he—while sleepy and filter-less—managed to get Roman "Princey" Fucking Sanders to dance with him was almost a mystery. He did know, however, that the only way Roman could have agreed was if he was extra sleep-deprived too.

"You like this song, Janus?"

He considered saying the truth, that he wasn't listening; or a well-thought-out lie, that he hadn't heard it before but thought it would fit with a playlist he had; or saying that he'd heard it before and liked it very much. But suddenly, Roman pulled him close and to his chest—and he smelled so good and his white sleep shirt was so snuggly and his hair was just inches away and oh so very soft and Janus was in love, so in love and he couldn't help but make a noise of happiness about their current situation instead of answering the question.

"I'm glad you like it."

Janus almost laughed; Roman mistook his noise for one of confirmation, also implying that he thought Janus was still in his state of Properly Out Of It. Janus had an act to keep up if he wanted Roman to continue being so intimate with him, so he decided he would play along—not more than he needed to, of course, but whenever Roman would prompt him to talk, he’d respond how he would if he had just woken up.

More songs went by, their almost-clumsy dancing that they exerted very little energy in doing continuing with it. Roman rarely spoke, but it was comfortable that way, with Roman just holding him as their feet glided across the floor with only the crescent moon as their witness. Janus knew very well that his emotions were senseless and cheesy, especially at this time of the morning in his current situation, but he almost scoffed when he realized that he felt loved—loved by Roman, and loved in a way he had never felt before. It made him feel warm and hopeful, and if he was fully awake, he would probably vomit. Nevertheless, it was a pleasant feeling no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, so he relished in it, soaking up the unfamiliar emotion he figured he would never get again and savoring it as one does with hot chocolate during the coldest winter nights. It was warm and calming, with an underlying hint of melancholy and bittersweetness. Just like how Janus perceived Roman.

Roman and Janus had differences that they were slowly putting behind them in an attempt to advance into a tentative friendship, so it made sense for Janus to think he would never get this again. He was tired, Roman was tired, and he remembered the dashing prince saying something about 'rousing thoughts' so this was probably serving as a release of all the stress that built up in the later hours. Tomorrow, things would be back to normal, but he would never forget.

The song started to slow to a speed that seemed inadvisable to Janus because the song was already quite a slow song in itself, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that the speed was romantic too. Roman's feet stopped taking larger steps and started swaying.

"Sway with me, mi cielo," said Roman in a voice that was practically silent. "This is the last song."

Janus' face burned from the Spanish nickname Roman gave him. Janus didn't know Spanish, but he was able to piece that it might have been a term of endearment. It was late, so it made sense that Roman would slip up like that, especially since he's the romantic side and their current situation was rather intimate. Of course, that assumption could also be Janus' wishful thinking.

"Thank you for dancing with me," muttered Roman, thumb starting to trace circles on Janus' waist. "I needed this outlet too."

From the way Roman phrased it, it seemed that Janus was mistaken in his assumption that he had convinced Roman to dance with him, that it seemed that things happened the other way around. This made Janus' heart flutter.

He hummed, closing his eyes. "M' ple'srre."

Janus peeked one eye open to see Roman's head turn down and smile at him warmly—lovingly, Janus would say, if he didn't know better.

The song started to come to an end. When the last beat played, Roman guided Janus into a small dip. Roman's happy smile as he stared down at Janus was hypnotizing, and Janus knew that he would fight a thousand wars just to see that smile again.

"Let's go to bed, hm? Neither of us wants to be tired in the morning."

Janus nodded. Roman pulled him to his feet and put an arm around his waist. They walked up the staircase together, Janus leaning his head on Roman's shoulder as they walked.

Janus' room was closest, so they paused there as Roman opened the door and led them inside. He kissed Janus hair and slowly removed his arm from Janus' waist.

“Goodnight, Janus,” whispered Roman, pushing a strand of Janus’ hair behind his ear.

Janus kissed Roman’s cheek. “G’nigh.”

He slowly closed the door, smiling to himself. He knew he would come to remember and regret his sleepy clumsiness in the morning, but he would be thankful for it until then.

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @neo-neo-neo @fander-fic-recs

Sorry this took so long to finish. I hope you liked it! [Edit: here’s part two again so you don’t have to scroll all the way back up lol]

#roceit #ts fanfic #janus sanders #roman sanders #romantic roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #prompt #ts janus #ts virgil #swearing tw #kill writes #fic

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gagosiangallery · 4 years ago

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Gagosian at Frieze Los Angeles Online

July 23, 2021

FRIEZE LOS ANGELES ONLINE Chris Burden

July 27–August 1, 2021 __________ Gagosian is pleased to participate in the inaugural Los Angeles edition of Frieze Viewing Room with a survey of works by Chris Burden (1946–2015). The works will be available simultaneously on the Gagosian website and in the Frieze Viewing Room, accessible at viewingroom.frieze.com. Ranging from ink-on-paper drawings to monumental site-specific sculptures, the presentation commemorates Burden’s significant career and body of work on what would have been the milestone of his seventy-fifth year. A radical figure with a fierce political consciousness, Burden possessed a unique ability to wield conceptual art as a tool for sociopolitical change. Dealing in incisive metaphors for the power dynamics of industry and institution, his work remains relevant—perhaps even more so than before—in today’s world. Burden first gained notoriety using his body as his medium. In his performance work Shoot (1971), he filmed himself being shot in the arm at close range—a searing commentary on the dangerous entanglement between media depictions of gun-toting machismo and the very real violence of the Vietnam War. He documented twenty-three of his early performances in Chris Burden Deluxe Photo Book 1971–73 (1974), a unique self-published artist’s book that adds vital commentary and context to his pioneering and often extreme performances. Burden continued to ground his works in contemporaneous issues throughout his career; his installation of thirty larger-than-life police outfits in L.A.P.D. Uniforms (1993)—one of which is included in this presentation—is a looming reminder of the persistent national crises of racial discrimination and police brutality. America’s Darker Moments (1994) restages five of the country’s twentieth-century atrocities—including the bombing of Hiroshima and the Kent State massacre—using detailed lead figurines made in the style of antique toy soldiers. By presenting these scenes in a vitrine, Burden equates the act of scrutiny with the governmental abuse of power that sparked the events he portrays. In the late 1970s, Burden began working extensively in large-scale sculpture, marrying his interests in architecture and engineering with his meditations on the strictures of the urban world. Dreamer’s Folly (2010) stands in stark contrast with the consciously aggressive aura of his early performances. Three white cast-iron ornamental gazebos—seemingly plucked from a traditional English garden—are draped with intricate lace, forming a single whimsical structure that remains rooted in history. With its exploration of the relationship between the body and public space, the work recalls Urban Light (2008), Burden’s site-specific installation of over two hundred antique streetlamps at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art that has become a landmark for the city as a whole. The Hidden Force (1995)—a little-known sculptural installation originally commissioned by the Washington State Arts Commission in 1993 for the now-demolished McNeil Island Corrections Center—will be re-created for the first time by the Burden Estate. For the original work, Burden installed three shallow circular concrete pools in a green space near the penitentiary’s cellblocks. Each pool was equipped with a floating elliptical object containing a magnet at one end, effectively creating a trio of outsize compasses that point north. Visually understated yet powerfully symbolic in its purpose and design, the work hints at the unseen forces that guide individuals toward the “right way. ”The presentation anticipates the publication of Poetic Practical: The Unrealized Work of Chris Burden, a comprehensive illustrated volume published by Gagosian that will catalogue Burden’s various unfinished works of art. Chris Burden was born in 1946 in Boston, and died in 2015 in Topanga, California. Collections include the Los Angeles County Museum of Art; Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles; Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago; Museum of Modern Art, New York; Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; Instituto Inhotim, Brumadinho, Brazil; Tate, London; Museum of Applied Arts, Vienna; and 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art, Kanazawa, Japan. Exhibitions include A Twenty-Year Survey, Orange County Museum of Art, Newport Beach, CA (1988, traveled to Carnegie Mellon University Art Gallery, Pittsburgh; and Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston, through 1989); When Robots Rule: The Two-Minute Airplane Factory, Tate Britain, London (1999); Tower of Power, Museum Moderner Kunst Stiftung Ludwig Wien, Vienna (2002); Beam Drop Antwerp, Middelheim Museum, Antwerp, Belgium (2009); Three Ghost Ships, Portland Art Museum, OR (2011–12); Extreme Measures, New Museum, New York (2013–14); The Master Builder, Rose Art Museum, Brandeis University, Waltham, MA (2014); and Ode to Santos Dumont, Los Angeles County Museum of Art (2015). _____ Chris Burden, The Hidden Force, 1995, concrete, aluminum, magnets, and water, in 3 parts, each: 36 × 108 × 108 inches (91.4 × 274.3 × 274.3 cm), installation view, McNeil Island Corrections Center, Washington (commissioned by the Washington State Arts Commission in 1993, decommissioned in 2011) © Chris Burden/Licensed by the Chris Burden Estate and Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

#Chris Burden #Gagosian Online #Gagosian

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rons-wheezely · 5 years ago

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That’s Definitely You || Fred

[requested!]

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You never thought your first kiss would be taken by your best friend, Fred Weasley. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Fred x Gryffindor!Reader

A/N: Weasleys are going to be the death of me lol

--x--

Tonight was almost like any other game night; one filled with cheers and laughter. The busy crowd trying to worm their way in early to find good seats. Tonight would be the first game of the year, and not only that, but word had gotten around that Harry Potter was playing as Seeker this year. You were standing outside the tent, waiting to get a glimpse of your favorite players.

Fred saw you and instantly his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Y/n!” He said.

“Hey Fred,” you smiled up at his tall figure,” Just wanted to wish you boys good luck.” Your arms glide around his torso as you pulled him in for a hug. You let go, and find that Fred’s face contorted into that of a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just wondering how bad the Slytherins will feel after we beat them with little ‘ol Harry here,” He stifled a laugh, already imagining another win at the end of the night.

“Oh bug off, Fred,” You giggle,” That’s only if you win.” You cross your arms defiantly for a moment before bubbling up with another round of giggles. “Only joking, you know. I’ll see you from the stands then?”

Fred’s face was still, and he was staring. (at you, might I add) “...Fred?”

“Y..Yeah,” He looks down with a sheepish smile. His cheeks were rose colored, but he brushed it off before you could ask. “I’ll see you.” And just as quickly as the visit started, he waved goodbye and walked back into the confines of the tent.

The stands were filled to the brim, just waiting to see Harry’s first match against Slytherins. You stood in the stands waving your well-worn banner with your good friend, Dean, a fellow Gryffindor. It reads: “We love our Weasleys” with little sparkles glimmering every once in awhile because of a charm you casted.

The match was an absolute rollercoaster. Jordan’s commentary had filled the stands with information as you watched on in awe. You never really knew how quidditch players did it. They looked so cool and brave whizzing around up there, scoring left and right. It was a fairly matched game tonight, with the exception of a cheating Slytherin and despite having a new player on the team.

Dean handed you her pair of binoculars when she noticed you squinting. “Here, sweetheart,” She chuckles,” I know you want to see your boyfriend up there; whichever twin it is.”

“Oh for merlin’s sake,” you scoffed. “He isn’t my boyfriend.” You know she’s only teasing you, but you can’t help but burn up a little when Dean mentioned it. You had to bite your tongue when you almost said Fred’s name, the name sounding so natural next to the word ‘boyfriend.’ Being in love with your best friend was hard, and it was even harder to contain yourself in public about it.

Looking through the lens, you spotted Fred whirling the bludger to the opposite side of the field. You smiled to yourself as you see the happy look on his face when the iron ball zooms straight for a Slytherin’s broomstick. He always looked attractive whenever he played, but that was a secret you’d gush about later to Dean.

After sitting through one of the most thrilling matches yet, Gryffindors won! You could hear the ‘I told you so’ and ‘can’t believe you doubted us’ already haunting you before you even approach the twins as they exited off of the field. Fred was still glistening with sweat when you and Dean approached.

Fred opened his mouth, but you cut him off saying,” --If you say what I think you’re about to say, I’m leaving.”

He paused for a moment, casually wiping sweat off with a towel. You tried your hardest not to stare, but to be fair, he was being very distracting. “I told you so, y/n.” A shit eating grin covered his face because he knew those were the exact words you didn’t want to hear from him.

“--I can’t believe you had the audacity to doubt us!” George called out from a distance before catching up with the conversation. You rolled your eyes, but the playful smile you sported told them that it didn’t mean any harm.

“After the crushing win today,” Dean briefly looked back at the stands,” I bet the after party is going to be wild tonight boys.”

“We’re counting on it.” The twins said in unison. Fred winked at you, and you watch as George nudged his arm. The Weasleys walked off towards their dorms to get ready, leaving Dean to deal with the aftermath.

Aftermath: you gawking. “...Am I reading too much into that?” you squeaked. A warm, almost burning, feeling was in your cheeks, swirling around and making you flush. Dean rolled her eyes as she dragged you away to your dorm.

“If you stare anymore, you’ll burn holes onto the back of that weasel’s head.”

---

The celebration was booming in the Gryffindor common room. Music, food, and chatter hit you immediately upon entering. “Y/n! Dean! Glad to see you blokes.” George yelled over the noise. He just let loose one of the many contraptions him and his brother came up with, letting it whiz into the air and explode into a big ball of confetti.

“Where’s Fred?” you asked.

“Oh boy,” George grinned,” wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Very funny.” you quirked your brow and waited for a legitimate answer. The Weasley’s were always good at dodging questions; they’d give some half answered vague remark and then disappear, which is exactly what just happened. “George?”

Dean snorted as she watched George run off somewhere into the crowd. “Good luck getting anything out of him.”

You let yourself enjoy the party, the tray of catered butterbeer satisfied your taste buds as you leaned against a wall. Dean had wandered off long ago to find her brother, leaving you to your lonesome. The room was packed in, so much so, that some even left to party quietly in the halls. You gazed at the many people on the makeshift dance floor before getting whisked there yourself by someone’s hand.

“Fred?”

“No,” he scoffed,” George.”

He twirled you around in his arms, and grooved to the music. His ginger hair swayed along, and you laughed in his arms. “That’s definitely you, Fred.”

“What?” He beamed,” How did you know?”

“Only you shimmy around like that and call it dancing,” you stifled your laughter when he mocked an offended look. He gasped and looked at you with wide eyes.

“I was going to call you clever,” he joked,” but that was quite hurtful you know.” The music was muffled as you got lost in Fred’s presence. It was only the two of you dancing like you always did; no one else mattered in this moment. The way he smiled, and the way you smiled back was just plain romantic. Only lovers look the way you do, but you’d never admit that out loud. Not to your best friend, at least.

The biggest shock of the night happened when he spun you around and dipped you like in one of those muggle films. You held tightly onto him, worried you might fall but loving the thrill all the same. Fred pulled you back up, your face inches away from his. He hesitated for a moment, like his nerves were all jumbled up.

His breath was warm, and you saw the way his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. Fred licked his own and leaned in closer, letting your lips touch together for the first time. They were soft and sweet, the lingering taste of butterbeer shared between your lips. And to think, your very first kiss was taken by your best friend, the one you wanted to do it with the most. His forehead was still against yours when he pulled away, cheeks glowing hot as he stammered.

“--I’m sorry... I should’ve asked I--”

You pulled him under for another one; the muffled music now coming back at full volume. You could hear the people closest to you whistling and cheering. This kiss was rougher than the last, but the stupid grin on his face when you pulled away was worth it. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that..” left your lips with a smile. “The least you could’ve done was take me out first, though.”

His hand that was in your hair moved to rest on your cheek. “I could take you out,” he suggests, “but I quite liked that kiss. It’d be a shame to pretend it didn’t happen.” He looked at you before you both tumbled into a fit of laughter, lost in your own world. “To be honest y/n, I’ve never done this before,” Fred admits.

“Me neither,” you chuckle. “I’m glad it’s with you though.”

--x--

A/N: Do y’all have any good hogwarts date ideas? I wanted to do something other than the Yule ball/ Hogsmeade trip for Ron; do you think he’d be up for a study date in the library?

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dahlia-coccinea · 4 years ago

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Wuthering Heights - Chapter 3

This is a somewhat difficult chapter to discuss fully in a single post. It introduces so many important themes and has the first glimpse of the story of the earlier inhabitants of the Heights. Sorry if this is too long - I've tried to keep my comments concise. It is difficult for me to not mention every tiny detail I like lol

We learn that Zillah has worked at the house a year or two and is aware that Catherine’s old room is off-limits but seems to know little else. It shows that despite the emotional unloading that Heathcliff does to Nelly he is very reserved about all that has happened in the past.

It seems the house has been ruled by chaos for years and there is an instinctual need for the inhabits to defend themselves against it. We see this when Lockwood first climbs into the box bed and closes the doors he says he “felt secure against the vigilance of Heathcliff, and every one else.” The need to shut out the world and crawling into small spaces is repeated later in this chapter with Catherine's diary details how, with Heathcliff, in an attempt to avoid the cruelty of Hindley and Frances “made ourselves as snug as our means allowed in the arch of the dresser,” and closed off the world by fastening their pinafores together.

We get some other interesting glimpses of Catherine and Heathcliff early friendship. It is quite popular to say that Heathcliff is Catherine’s whip and he is a blank slate for her, but I think this diary entry is another example of their oddly egalitarian relationship. First, we have this scene of Catherine lashing out against their ill-treatment:

I took my dingy volume by the scroop, and hurled it into the dog-kennel, vowing I hated a good book. Heathcliff kicked his to the same place. Then there was a hubbub!

That Heathcliff swiftly follows her lead certainly shows a reciprocation of the other’s attitude and worldview - or simply that if one is going to get in trouble then the other will follow suit. Still, I do hold that he doesn’t just mimic her or do as she wishes. We get a number of examples that show neither play a clear leader in their antics with one happening shortly after this incident. Catherine's diary continues:

I have got the time on with writing for twenty minutes; but my companion is impatient, and proposes that we should appropriate the dairywoman’s cloak, and have a scamper on the moors, under its shelter. A pleasant suggestion—and then, if the surly old man come in, he may believe his prophecy verified—we cannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we are here.

Here Heathcliff takes the lead in coming up with more plans to get further into trouble and it seems Catherine is more than pleased to go along with it.

There are other, now iconic, details of Catherine’s character in this chapter. Such as this description of the box bed from Lockwood:

The ledge, where I placed my candle, had a few mildewed books piled up in one corner; and it was covered with writing scratched on the paint. This writing, however, was nothing but a name repeated in all kinds of characters, large and small—Catherine Earnshaw, here and there varied to Catherine Heathcliff, and then again to Catherine Linton.

And later:

Catherine’s library was select, and its state of dilapidation proved it to have been well used, though not altogether for a legitimate purpose: scarcely one chapter had escaped a pen-and-ink commentary—at least the appearance of one—covering every morsel of blank that the printer had left. Some were detached sentences; other parts took the form of a regular diary, scrawled in an unformed, childish hand. At the top of an extra page (quite a treasure, probably, when first lighted on) I was greatly amused to behold an excellent caricature of my friend Joseph,—rudely, yet powerfully sketched. An immediate interest kindled within me for the unknown Catherine, and I began forthwith to decipher her faded hieroglyphics.

Catherine holed up in the box bed and writing on every spare bit of paper she can get her hands on and scratching her name in the paint, tell of someone who has no one to talk to. She’s alone and is compelled to at least make sense of herself with ink and paper. Nelly does say later on that “there was not a soul else that she might fashion into an adviser” beside Nelly herself. Which is a poor adviser, considering how Nelly disliked her throughout her childhood.

Adding to Catherine’s loneliness is the endless abuse of Heathcliff and herself, at the hands of seemingly everyone in the house. In this short excerpt from her diary, we are told Hindley’s treatment of Heathcliff is “atrocious,” and that now he is the new master they are no longer allowed to play, and “a mere titter is sufficient to send us into corners.” Heathcliff has his hair pulled by Frances, Catherine’s ears are boxed by Joseph and they’re both berated and verbally punished by him. Finally Hindley “seizing one of us by the collar, and the other by the arm, hurled both into the back-kitchen” where she says that outside on the moors “cannot be damper, or colder.” Upon their return and proceeding punishment she says she’s cried until her head ached. Consistent with what we later hear her tell Nelly, that Heathcliff’s miseries are her own, it is not her punishment or ill-treatment that makes her so upset but the casting out of Heathcliff. She writes:

“Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond, and won’t let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says, he and I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house if we break his orders. He has been blaming our father (how dared he?) for treating H. too liberally; and swears he will reduce him to his right place—”

Critics that suggest Catherine is glassy-eyed and naive idealist really gloss over these excerpts in my opinion. There is a constant downplaying of her abuse compared to the other characters among those that seemingly think she’s the only character with moral agency and therefore the cause of all problems in the story.

I love how strange the encounter that Lockwood has with the book “Seventy Times Seven, and the First of the Seventy-First,” and the following dream is when first reading Wuthering Heights. Hardly anything in WH is superfluous and when rereading it this makes much more sense. This is quite an interesting segue into meeting Catherine’s ghost, and later learning more of her life. Forgiveness is such an important aspect in the book and will come up many times. Notably, while on her deathbed, Catherine tells Heathcliff she has forgiven him and that he should forgive her.

I think it is amusing and also very interesting how in Lockwood’s dream he’s walking with Joseph (in itself is very metaphorical) and Joseph tells him he should have brought a “pilgrim’s staff” and that Joseph’s staff is really just a “heavy-headed cudgel.”

It’s unsurprising the appearance of Catherine’s ghost is so iconic. It’s impossible to discern if it is merely Lockwood’s dream or him actually encountering her spirit. There are details about her that Lockwood, at this point, does not yet know. Still, he does make many attempts to logically explain what happens. Either way, the imagery of the scene is both frightening and tragic.

We get some really interesting glimpses of Heathcliff’s character in this scene. Normally he is very collected and if his emotions are out of control they tend towards anger, but here we see him truly terrified and unable to maintain composure after finding Lockwood in the room.

Heathcliff stood near the entrance, in his shirt and trousers; with a candle dripping over his fingers, and his face as white as the wall behind him. The first creak of the oak startled him like an electric shock: the light leaped from his hold to a distance of some feet, and his agitation was so extreme, that he could hardly pick it up.

Even after Lockwood identifies himself Heathcliff is said to have found it “impossible to hold it [the candle] steady” and was “crushing his nails into his palms, and grinding his teeth to subdue the maxillary convulsions.” It is interesting that Heathcliff doesn’t become so angry that he throws Lockwood out. It’s another oddly humanizing moment for him. An overly dramatic author would likely have him behave like a complete monster, but he instead tells him to finish the night there and not to scream like that again. This is a scene that I wish we could have some perspective from Heathcliff. Not only is he startled by a noise coming from Catherine’s old room but then Lockwood adds to his distress by rambling about Catherine saying:

And that minx, Catherine Linton, or Earnshaw, or however she was called—she must have been a changeling—wicked little soul! She told me she had been walking the earth these twenty years: a just punishment for her mortal transgressions, I’ve no doubt!

This and Lockwood’s further talk which makes it apparent he has snooped and glimpsed a little bit of Catherine’s and Heathcliff’s past, does set Heathcliff off:

“What can you mean by talking in this way to me!” thundered Heathcliff with savage vehemence. “How—how dare you, under my roof?—God! he’s mad to speak so!” And he struck his forehead with rage.

Lockwood doesn’t quite understand this reaction saying:

I did not know whether to resent this language or pursue my explanation; but he seemed so powerfully affected that I took pity and proceeded with my dreams; affirming I had never heard the appellation of “Catherine Linton” before, but reading it often over produced an impression which personified itself when I had no longer my imagination under control. Heathcliff gradually fell back into the shelter of the bed, as I spoke; finally sitting down almost concealed behind it. I guessed, however, by his irregular and intercepted breathing, that he struggled to vanquish an excess of violent emotion.

And later when watching Heathcliff call for Cathy through the window:

There was such anguish in the gush of grief that accompanied this raving, that my compassion made me overlook its folly, and I drew off, half angry to have listened at all, and vexed at having related my ridiculous nightmare, since it produced that agony; though why was beyond my comprehension.

At one point Lockwood also believes Heathcliff to be “dashing a tear from his eyes” during their conversation. Of course, he is confused because he doesn’t know that one of Heathcliff’s few fixations has been looking for signs of Catherine for the last 17ish years.

I’ve mentioned this before, but something that doesn’t happen in the book because Heathcliff never narrates it, but I think if someone retold the story or made a film adaptation it could be interesting to explore, is how Heathcliff came to find Catherine’s writing on the wall. She must have written it shortly before she talks to Nelly since she’s already considering marrying Linton, and Heathcliff must still be living at the Heights since his name is there also. When Heathcliff returns three years later we know that he takes over Catherine’s old room so really he should have discovered it the first night there, probably after having visited the Grange.

@astrangechoiceoffavourites has mentioned this in one their posts, but another great aspect of the book is the background happenings that are very realistic for the time and particularly farm life. Cats and dogs roam about, Heathcliff mentions that the house goes to bed at “nine in winter, and rise at four,” and there are mentions of chores, etc. The details create a realistic backdrop and ground the characters in reality. I feel like the novel is never overly sentimental because of this and it really strengthens it.

After Heathcliff comes down to the kitchen where the household is starting their day, we are instantly reminded how terrible Heathcliff can be when he swears at and threatens to hit Cathy for not making herself useful and working for her keep. Ironically, he tells her, “You shall pay me for the plague of having you eternally in my sight,” when, as I’ve mentioned before he has her sit at the dining table with everyone else. He also could just send her away if he despises her so much.

I see a lot of similarity between the glimpse we get of Catherine Earnshaw from her diary and the current situation Cathy Heathcliff is in. Their situations are certainly different but both are in a similar state of abuse and neglect and both are quite self-possessed and antagonistic towards those that try to control them. They also are associated with books (Catherine filling them up with writing and Cathy reading) and have an affinity for animals. In this chapter it is mentioned that while Cathy is reading she has “to push away a dog, now and then, that snoozled its nose overforwardly into her face.” There are other similar encounters, such as when the dogs at the Heights come to greet Catherine Earnshaw upon her return from the Lintons.

I’m sure I’m forgetting points I want to make in these posts. I’ll probably to a larger summary after I complete the book and try to tie together some of the ideas I’ve mentioned. Its also difficult because I keep wanting to bring up things that happen later in the book and I want to make a note of it now - but I’m also trying to reread as impartially as possible. Which is really an impossible task lol.

@astrangechoiceoffavourites

#wuthering heights #wh reread 2021 #wh reread #emily brontë #chapter 3 #tw abuse #omg i did it

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yanting01 · 4 years ago

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Is Korean Fandom a friendly space for Malaysian fan?

In this era filled with digital technology, lots of activities could be done on the internet, especially the social media, one of it will be fandom. When I see the word 'fandom', the first direct terms that came into my mind are K-pop, K-drama, all sorts of 'Hallyu' , a global phenomenon that signifies the spread of Korean popular culture, such as their pop music, dramas, etc. Other than 'Hallyu', I know there is also other types of fandom, such as anime fandom, movies fandom, western countries pop singers, etc. Anything that have a state or attitude of being a fan, that will be fandom. So, you have guessed it right! Today's topic is more interesting, which is fandom, and we will also be discussing about fandom in Malaysian fans, is it a friendly space or not? Below is the main cast of drama Vincenzo that I "fandomed" recently 😜

The Term 'Fandom'

'Fan' refers to "an enthusiastic devotee usually as a spectator" (Merriam Webster 2021).

'Fandom' refers to "the state of being a fan of someone or something, especially a very enthusiastic one" (Cambridge Dictionary 2021).

By the definition, fan and fandom are correlated to each other. Fandom provides fans a medium to engage and communicate with other fans that shares same interests (Abd Rahim 2019). It is an essential mediating factor of relationship between fans and the object fans their fanaticism, and between individual fans themselves (Abd Rahim 2019).

In this era of arising digital technology, fans participated in a variety of online discussions related to their interests. They form groups to devote to specific music genres and individual stars, encourage daily interactions within the fandom, between fans and the music industry (Abd Rahim 2019).

Here comes an example of fandom: I remember when the k-drama, Vincenzo first premiered on Netflix, there are already a lot of discussions on the drama itself, and also the casts. When I scroll through my social media (Instagram, YouTube), there are quite a number of fan-made videos, short scenes of the funny moments, and others. When I googled the drama, there are also a lot of discussions regarding the drama's plot, and nevertheless shipping the main cast to be in a relationship (that happened every time in romance genre 😂).

Healthy and Toxic Fandom

Fandom has the advantage of creating sense of community and help boost self-esteem of a person. However, it also has downsides, it is sometimes detrimental, where fandom could foster toxicity around a given figure or franchise. To illustrate, a South Korean celebrity, Sulli was found dead caused by suicide, and the reason was guessed to be the attacked by the community, together suffering from depression (Boroweic 2019).

Good fandom is healthy, appreciative, that support each other in a collaborative community. The opposite is only toxic and abusive.

Influences of Fandom

Korean fandom have appeared to be influencing, industries such as food and cosmetics have been using them to market their products. Below is a video shows a Korean celebrity, Siwon Choi, doing advertisement for Mi Sedap new flavor Korean Spicy Soup instant noodle. Mi Sedap is a top-leading instant noodle company from Malaysia.

(Link to Mi Sedaap Facebook 2020)

And the comments on the video posts are quite engaging and positive, showing that the celebrity did somehow boost the product visibility. Another thing will be the Malaysia community towards this 'Hallyu' fandom is mostly accepted.

(Image captured from Mi Sedaap Facebook 2020)

In addition, in a news post from Syok (2021) stated that Malaysian K-pop fans composed of the 7th biggest market for K-pop-related conversations on Twitter by tweet volume, according to statistics collected by Twitter and fandom data observatory K-pop Radar.

Again, these shows that Malaysian are having high acceptance on Korean fandom, we couldn't say there are no toxic fandom within Malaysian, but based on the statistics, majority are accepting and loving it.

To conclude...

Everyone have different likes and dislikes, even Korean fandom will have somebody that hates it. I believe fandom is a friendly space for Malaysian, where the condition to share the same interests. Apart from that, Malaysian generally also act ethically on the Internet, especially social media. This will ensure that people don't get conflicted easily, and make the internet a friendly space, and a friendly space for fandom.

———————- This is a cute ending line ————————-

That’s all for this week. Thanks for reading! 😍

References

Abd-Rahim, A. (2019). Online Fandom: Social Identity and Social Hierarchy of Hallyu Fans. Journal for Undergraduate Ethnography, 9(1), 65–66. https://doi.org/10.15273/jue.v9i1.8885

Borowiec, S. (2021, January 29). Is South Korea’s caustic obsession with celebrity to blame for the early demise of another young starlet? Steven Borowiec discusses the soul-searching in the country after Sulli’s death. CNA. https://www.channelnewsasia.com/news/commentary/south-korea-celebrity-sulli-f-x--suicide-cause-death-12018318

Cambridge University Press. (n.d.). Fan. In Cambridge University Press. Retrieved May 9, 2021, from https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/fandom

Merriam-Webster. (n.d.). Fan. In Merriam-Webster.com dictionary. Retrieved May 9, 2021, from https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/fan

Syok. (2021, February 4). Malaysia Ranks Seventh Among Countries With Most Tweets About K-pop. https://en.syok.my/viral/malaysia-ranks-seventh-among-countries-with-most-t

This is a blog post for educational purpose only for unit MDA20009 Digital Communities.

#week9 #mda20009 #digital communities #swinburne university of technology

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adultswim2021 · 4 years ago

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Space Ghost Coast to Coast #77b: "Mommentary” December 30, 2001 - 11:30 PM | S07E06

I love Mommentary. You should know that. Space Ghost was one of the first shows I knew about that indulged in the idea of doing the anti-episode. I was a little too young to have watched 80s Letterman, and what few glimpses of it I caught seemed fairly conventional to me. When I was very small I’d wake up in the middle of the night, wander into my parents’ room and watch for a few minutes until I got sleepy again, but I never happened to be viewing when they did stuff like, say, the episode where it’s a rerun, but they hired professional voice actors to redub the episode verbatim so everyone on it just has a different voice, or the episode where they rotated the image a full 360 degrees gradually over the course of the entire show.

Space Ghost almost definitely drew inspiration from this practice, resulting in the creation of Story Book House from 1995, where Kirk the Storyteller and Carl the Cartoonist retell two old episodes of Space Ghost as if they were children’s stories being told on a boring, low-budget local kiddie show. Brilliant Number One and Brilliant Number Two, two episodes that are virtually identical except for the captions, which recite different borrowed prose, as well as tweaks to the background sound design. More information here, I hope.

There’s also Woody Allen’s Fall Project, which features clips of previous episodes but re-enacted entirely in live-action in the same style as the O.J. Simpson trial re-enactments that aired on E!. There’s Warren, which originally aired looping three times in a row, uninterrupted, with a single line change in each iteration. Snatch had it’s ending cut short and replaced with an announcement that the Space Ghost crew were auctioning it off on eBay, which they actually did! Table Read, which featured the cast and crew performing the table read for an upcoming episode, Fire Ant, which itself originally aired with a long, about 10 minute segment where Space Ghost follows an ant as it slowly makes it’s way home.

This was in the grand tradition of all those episodes I described. In it we’re treated to a replay of Kentucky Nightmare, one of Space Ghost’s greatest episodes, but this time it has running DVD-style commentary featuring Mike Lazzo, Matthew Maiellaro, and Dave Willis’ elderly mothers. They are funny and sweet and mostly baffled by what they are watching. The bottom of the screen reads “From the Kentucky Nightmare DVD” as if the 11 minute episode of Space Ghost has it’s own DVD release. Adult Swim actually would release a volume of Space Ghost episodes through their online store featuring Kentucky Nightmare, and they titled it “From The Kentucky Nightmare DVD”.

Mommentary made waves among early Adult Swim viewers. Some absolutely hated it, and felt insulted by it. Lots of COOL CEREBRAL COMEDY LIKERS made way too much hay about how great it was. Which camp was I in? Take a fucking guess. Anyway, I still do love this episode, and it’s worth your time. One of the moms piping in towards the beginning of the episode with “WHERES THE SHARK??” is honest-to-goodness one of my favorite Space Ghost quotes. It pops into my head frequently. It’s also very funny how this ends with, I assume, Dave Willis just scolding the moms for talking about how smart their sons are. Adult Swim would continue do similar experimental stunts with various series. but nowadays they typically stick to April Fools Day. Not sure how or if I will cover those April Fools Day gags; I’m trying mostly to stick to just the episodes themselves. I don’t know man, I guess I’ll just end this on a mail bag, thank god. MAIL BAG

Brandon writes:

I think Mommentary is a prime example that Mike Lazzo's ultimate indifference/outright hatred for the show he created was overall a boon to the show. It may have been what lead to him giving the show the axe and but if he loved the show even a little bit more he would have taken greater care with it and every episode would be like Explode. It ultimately gave them more freedom to do stupid/fun shit with it because of that lack of respect.

This makes a lot of sense, actually. I sometimes lament that the Space Ghost crew weren’t as enthusiastic about making Space Ghost as I was eatin’ ‘em. Yum!

#adult swim #space ghost coast to coast #adultswim2021

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