#literary work

[lepetitdragonvert]

Die Sterntaler (illustration aus “Deutsche Märchen” )

The Star Money

1939

Artist : Paul Hey (1867-1952)

[theaskew]

Sanctuary, a novel by William Faulkner. (New York: Jonathan Cape & Harrison Smith, [1931]. First edition, first printing.)

[cettelunesposts]

help ;-;

does anyone know any good writing platforms to post work on? (っ °Д °;)っ

[lofijellydreamer08643]

Things That Are Infinite: Those Starry and Misty Eyes

Long ago, when the sky was a bit closer to the ground, hidden within the great mountains of the land was a small village in a great, lush valley. Its inhabitants were simple folk, rice farmers, and fishermen. And one extraordinary child named Luna. The whole town loved her and her family. Her father was a great fisherman, and her mother was a wonderful tailor who tragically passed away when Luna was born. What made Luna so special was her ability to float during a full moon. Because of her gift, every full moon, she and her father would climb up a hill by the village outskirts and gaze out at the stars. Luna’s father would tell her stories about her mother and how she watched over them from the skies, and that one day they would go with her. He would tie the scarf his wife made him around Luna to keep her from floating away, and it was their tradition.

But after one particularly cold and rainy day, the visits to the hill became quite scarce. Luna’s father came out of his room less and less, and Luna had no idea why. She didn't want to go to the hill without her father, but he had grown so distant that he did not even speak to her anymore. A few months went by. Luna was worried. Her father had not come out of his room at all. She decided to check on him and found him sleeping in his room. She spoke softly to him and nudged him a bit, trying to get him to wake up. But when she touched his hand, she found it to be very cold. Too cold. The reality of the situation dawned on her as she realized that in front of her was the corpse of her dead father. 

Overcome with shock and grief, Luna let out a terrible cry of anguish that could be heard all throughout the village. Immediately, the townsfolk rushed over to see what happened and, seeing the devastating scene before them, wept along with Luna. A funeral was held a few days later. When it came time to say goodbye to him in the casket, Luna couldn't even find the courage to look her dead father in the face. All she could do was cry into the scarf that was once her father’s. 

The town mourned, and Luna fell into a deep depression. No matter what the people told her, no matter what they did, nothing could bring her out of it. She never realized how much joy her father gave her each day. Now she could never have that joy back. Luna stayed in her room for weeks. Neighbors would occasionally come by to give her food and check up on her, but other than that, the most contact she had with the outside world came from staring at the sky from her window. As the starry nights passed, something resonated within Luna. A distant thought that came to her. That gave her a sort of strange peace. A thought that grew along with the waxing moon.

The night of the full moon came, and Luna was totally at peace. The moon was at its perigee, which made Luna’s power stronger. She felt the sky calling to her. With her father’s scarf in hand and sandbags to weigh her down, Luna made her way up the hill that she and her father always climbed together. As she traversed the hill, all the memories of her life and her father came flooding back to her. All the stories he told her, all the moments they shared, until finally, finally, Luna reached the top of the hill. Clutching the scarf close to her body, she stared up at the enormous moon and sky above. She removed the bags and lifted up off the ground, closing her eyes and crying, tears floating all around her. 

She cried and cried and cried for a very long time. When she finally opened her eyes, Luna found herself high among the stars. It was quite a beautiful sight to behold. All of them sparkling brilliantly, the colors blurring together from the tears in her eyes. As she took in the scenery, Luna felt peacefully empty. There were nothing but stars and her father’s scarf to keep her company. She drifted endlessly into the infinite void of space, her unceasing tears adding to the glimmering beauty of the night sky.

[oli-draw]

this fairy tale inspired the author to the artist @cutiecorner and for insomnia (yes, I have 00:51 in Sarapul time now)

The mouse who was afraid of the dark

__________❤❤❤❤❤❤___________

There was a little mouse in the world, he was so small that it seemed to big moose with the size of an ant.

And this mouse was terribly afraid of the dark, that he was sleeping in his house with a burnt-out lamp.

And if any ray of light disappeared, then the mouse began to squint in fear, closing its eyes with paws and ears and squeaking screamed

- Mommies! Somebody turn on the light! I'm scared!

And from the rustle in the dark, he shied away and screamed loudly and cried.

One night the little mouse wanted a drink and took a lamp with him.

Wandering along the corridor for a long time and slowly, he was afraid and squeezed his tail and thought: "there is no one there."

His legs were shaking, his nose was twitching nervously, and his breathing was out of rhythm.

And then the light in the lamp went out and complete darkness reigned in the corridor, the baby could not see anything in the dark and he was so scared, so scared that he squeezed his eyes shut, covered his face with his paws and ears and curled up.

- well, why did I go to drink some water - the mouse thought and began to cry.

At that moment he heard some sounds in the dark, the footsteps of big paws walking on the floor like a bear. The mouse opened one eye and saw a big and fluffy monster, his paws were big and fluffy, his fur shone with a gentle blue glow. The monster's eyes are big and round, like an owl, a nose like a bunny, and horns grew on his forehead.

The mouse cried even more and squeezed his eyes shut, but then the monster asked him.

- Baby, why are you crying?

- How can I not cry-the mouse answered whimpering -I'm too afraid of the dark and I can't live without light.

- And what's so scary about it in the dark? She is very wonderful-the monster answered him smiling-in the dark you can see a lot of glowing things, in the dark you can listen to fairy tales that mom tells. I think darkness is useful

- But, there are monsters in the dark - the mouse answered timidly

- And what kind of monsters are there, for example, I do not offend anyone and I will never offend anyone, so says the law of monsters of all stripes - the monster answered proudly, even from pride it shone brighter.

And then the mouse realized that the darkness was not so terrible and he asked the monster again:

- And you don't want to come with me to drink some water?

-I don't mind-the monsters answered timidly-and can I read you a fairy tale?..

- Of course!- the mouse answered and together with the monster they went to drink water.

The mouse drank the long-awaited cup of water and together with the monster went back to the crib.

There the monster told several fairy tales and stories that he could know and remember, and the little mouse quickly fell asleep.

So a quiet and kind night went on with a kind monster who became a friend for a little cowardly mouse

The end

thanks for reading

[rhythmicreverie]

A rivalry ignited 'twixt the dragons of Fyre and the elves of Sylverne, for the golden apples of Elysia. The sky roared with thunderous wings, as spells clashed and fire burned bright. Yet, harmony arose from their strife, as newfound bonds bridged their divide, in a tale of magic unbound, where fantasy intertwined.

[ipwars]

Is there a copyright work and who owns it?

Rees J, sitting in the NSW Supreme Court, had to grapple with some unusual, but basic, issues in finding that Metstech owned copyright in a range of works made by a Mr Chou. However, it did not own copyright in software made by Mr Martin; instead having an exclusive licence over that copyright including the right to access and modify the source code. Some background[1] Metstech designs and…

[konvoluted]

Interview with Diana Wynne Jones

[fairydrowning]

"But there is a clarity about September. On clear days, the sun seems brighter, the sky more blue, the white clouds take on marvelous shapes; the moon is a wonderful apparition, rising gold, cooling to silver; and the stars are so big."

– Faith Baldwin, Evening Star

[yeyinde]

It's not enough to just follow or subscribe to my favourite writers. I need to crawl around their thoughts like a curious little bug.

[nekropsii]

Let this be a living example that knowing the beliefs of any individual who wrote any piece of text- be it literature, articles, or posts- can and should drastically alter your perception on what the text is actually communicating, even if that knowledge has, on its face, changed none of the actual printed words. This is how application of real-world context works, and this is how it applies to any recorded medium.

It reminds me heavily of a quote from video essayist Jacob Geller, regarding the 1938 film Olympia- "It's different when Nazis do it". Olympia is a film that, on its face, simply depicts an artistic documentation of the 1936 Berlin Olympics. But within the context of its production taking place during the Nazi regime, with its director being a well known Nazi propagandist... The way the movie fixates on the power and elegance of the human form and Ancient Greek statues quickly shifts from being completely innocuous appreciation to the worship of what is perceived as the ideal forms of the "Aryan race". Suddenly, you understand the movie not to be a pretty inoffensive documentation of a historical event, but a propaganda piece.

Understanding the time period in which something was made, as well as the setting it was produced in/for, and whatever ideologies an artist may hold and experiences they've had is absolutely critical to getting a full understanding of anyone's work. There are some things that are near completely anodyne on their face, but the revelation of what the author thinks and feels about other people and the world around them totally redefines every word on the page.

This image is such a prime example of why context matters. This opinion, laid bare, stripped of context, is both inoffensive and nonsensical. No one's ever thought it to be lame to create your own nickname... But on its own, that's a harmless kind of wrong. ... But with the addition of them being marked as Anti-Trans (red) on Shinigami Eyes, a browser extension dedicated to crowdsourcing keeping track of Trans Friendly and Transphobic creators... Suddenly, "Nicknames" doesn't mean "Nicknames" anymore. Suddenly, you realize that "Nicknames" is code for "Chosen Names of Trans People". Suddenly this isn't about thinking choosing your own nickname is lame, this is about thinking that trans people shouldn't have the right to name themselves. Suddenly it's about invalidating identities, thinking they're worth mocking. Thinking that people who identify as trans are "just trying to be cool", and that they're not actually what they say they are, because you don't get to choose your gender nickname, that's something already decided for you.

Suddenly, you realize, it's not about "being lame".

It's about Transphobic Violence.

This is why you cannot ignore when an artist, author, essayist, developer, musician- so on and so forth- is bigoted. This is why you can't ignore the context behind their upbringing. This is why you can't ignore the context behind their lived experience, their ideals, their goals, their message. Yes, it may appear innocent on its face. Yes, it may look fine stripped from the context of it being written by an inevitably flawed human being. But what's really being said here? What do those words mean... To the one who wrote them?

Context redefines Text.

Even if the words didn't change.

[cosmic-coleoptera]

what genre is homestuck Actually

is it science fiction? is it fantasy? is it film noir? is it a thriller? is it paranormal erotica? is it lovecraftian horror? is it coming-of-age? is it nonfiction? Who Knows

[theaskew]

The Waves, a novel by Virginia Woolf (London: Hogarth Press, 1931).

[faustandfurious]

Actually yeah I am tired of «feminist retellings» of ancient classics because I’m tired of the feminism label being slapped on mediocre books as a marketing ploy to make them seem more important than they really are

[t1sunfortunate]

I truly do think one of the largest pitfalls among the "media consumption is my passion" crowd is the tendency to treat characters as human beings with agency rather than narrative tools manipulated by the author

[requinum]

"In me, he saw a storm coming. In him, I saw my heart breaking from its hard shell and my dreams disintegrating and reforming into something new and beautiful in its selfishness".