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Yuletide gifts
Dec. 26th, 2020 11:51 amI was overwhelmed by wonderful things this year. I couldn't possibly pick a favorite; they're so distinct, and so amazing in their separate ways. I wish I could be more eloquent than I am, because these are marvels.
For Megan Whalen Turner's Thief series, two stories about a side character, Phresine, one of which also features Heiro. Both have wonderful voices for Phresine, and both catch the way that Turner tells stories, through allusion and revelation. Both of them have surprises (at least to me), so I'm being intentionally vague. Both have great funny moments.
words like water into dry earth. Phresine tells two instructive stories to Attolia, and the consequences roll out slowly. The prose is up there with Turner's and Le Guin's in saying a great deal in spare well-chosen words. As far as I'm concerned, this story is now canon.
“I think the Mede ambassador might appreciate this story better than I,” remarked the queen, unsmiling. “Perhaps you might tell it to him instead.”
“It wasn’t him it was meant for,” said Phresine, knotting the last of her errand threads together, “and besides we’ve not yet reached the end."
Heiro's Other Earrings, whose author does a masterful job of using earrings and clothes as emotional turning-points of the story. And they put in a plot point I'd specifically called out as the sort of thing I like, somebody climbing up to a window. The emotional journey is sweet and funny.
Phresine’s eyes sparkled with approval. “Ileia has a balcony.”
“That’s--that sounds very nice, I do love architecture.”
Phresine laughed. Heiro had to admit, it was a bit of a cackle. “She retires early. She doesn’t seem to have the stamina for a ball like this.”
For Madness, three(!!!) stories about the Geefs brothers' Satan statues. Go have a look before you read the stories.
Satan's sonnets. Holy cow, a Spenserian sonnet sequence. I threw that idea in as an example of "write anything you want", and holy cow, this author delivered. There are some very clever uses of meter, and the point-of-view is wonderfully conveyed. There's also a subtle change of voice between the first statue and the second.
Go, hide with bright parades of sovereignty;
Deny the truth; that I am liberty.
All across the thready sky A Pygmalion story, surprising and eloquently told. The author threw in a third Geefs statue of a sleeping angel, one I'd never heard of. Some spectacular moments of poetic prose.
I made the wings, straining behind your back—the wings, wrapped in flame, that move me and make me tremble. I made the eyes, the mouth, and the closed fists. I made the curve of the spine, the points of light, the feet still black with fire. I made the withered heart. Sharp, sharp, I made the chain, the sadness in your brow, the pain in your hands.
Heat. Not just Satan's point of view, but Satan's point of view as a statue, feeling the sensation of being carved. Excellent characterization, with sensuality.
He was chained in place because he allowed it. First he allowed himself to be chiseled from marble, for he showed himself to all who would see him, settling into the minds of two brothers who would never be the same once the idea of him had seized them. The rest was as he allowed it. He did not chafe against the chain, because he knew of its existence as he made his presence known. He expected every single scrape of the tools against the block of marble he would eventually be set free from. If the second sculptor envisioned chains, he would allow the formality.
He would be seen. He was already seen.
For Megan Whalen Turner's Thief series, two stories about a side character, Phresine, one of which also features Heiro. Both have wonderful voices for Phresine, and both catch the way that Turner tells stories, through allusion and revelation. Both of them have surprises (at least to me), so I'm being intentionally vague. Both have great funny moments.
words like water into dry earth. Phresine tells two instructive stories to Attolia, and the consequences roll out slowly. The prose is up there with Turner's and Le Guin's in saying a great deal in spare well-chosen words. As far as I'm concerned, this story is now canon.
“I think the Mede ambassador might appreciate this story better than I,” remarked the queen, unsmiling. “Perhaps you might tell it to him instead.”
“It wasn’t him it was meant for,” said Phresine, knotting the last of her errand threads together, “and besides we’ve not yet reached the end."
Heiro's Other Earrings, whose author does a masterful job of using earrings and clothes as emotional turning-points of the story. And they put in a plot point I'd specifically called out as the sort of thing I like, somebody climbing up to a window. The emotional journey is sweet and funny.
Phresine’s eyes sparkled with approval. “Ileia has a balcony.”
“That’s--that sounds very nice, I do love architecture.”
Phresine laughed. Heiro had to admit, it was a bit of a cackle. “She retires early. She doesn’t seem to have the stamina for a ball like this.”
For Madness, three(!!!) stories about the Geefs brothers' Satan statues. Go have a look before you read the stories.
Satan's sonnets. Holy cow, a Spenserian sonnet sequence. I threw that idea in as an example of "write anything you want", and holy cow, this author delivered. There are some very clever uses of meter, and the point-of-view is wonderfully conveyed. There's also a subtle change of voice between the first statue and the second.
Go, hide with bright parades of sovereignty;
Deny the truth; that I am liberty.
All across the thready sky A Pygmalion story, surprising and eloquently told. The author threw in a third Geefs statue of a sleeping angel, one I'd never heard of. Some spectacular moments of poetic prose.
I made the wings, straining behind your back—the wings, wrapped in flame, that move me and make me tremble. I made the eyes, the mouth, and the closed fists. I made the curve of the spine, the points of light, the feet still black with fire. I made the withered heart. Sharp, sharp, I made the chain, the sadness in your brow, the pain in your hands.
Heat. Not just Satan's point of view, but Satan's point of view as a statue, feeling the sensation of being carved. Excellent characterization, with sensuality.
He was chained in place because he allowed it. First he allowed himself to be chiseled from marble, for he showed himself to all who would see him, settling into the minds of two brothers who would never be the same once the idea of him had seized them. The rest was as he allowed it. He did not chafe against the chain, because he knew of its existence as he made his presence known. He expected every single scrape of the tools against the block of marble he would eventually be set free from. If the second sculptor envisioned chains, he would allow the formality.
He would be seen. He was already seen.
