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At certain moments in Hampton Sides’ The Wide Wide Sea: Imperial Ambition, First Contact and the Fateful Final Voyage of Captain James Cook, one feels that one has stepped into the middle of a barfight that’s been running for decades and shows no sign of stopping.

This barfight has a number of different sub-fights (Captain Cook: heroic scientific explorer or wicked vanguard of British imperialism?), but because this book is focused on Captain Cook’s final voyage, it deals most prominently with one question: did the Hawaiians actually believe that Cook was a god?

Arguing for the affirmative: Hawaiians had a well-established cultural tradition of men who were also gods. Their own high kings were considered gods, so it would not have been a stretch to look at the leader of an expedition from overseas and go, “Hmm, maybe this guy is also a god.” When Hawaiian historian Samuel Mānaiakalani Kamakau gathered evidence from Hawaiian elders in the mid-1800s, they did indeed tell him that they had all believed (at first) that Cook was Lono. Mark Twain learned the same thing when he visited in the 1860s. The crews of Cook’s two ships also believed that Cook had been acclaimed as a god.

Arguing against: saying the Hawaiians believed Cook was a god makes them look gullible and naive, and plays right into paternalistic, racist, imperialist beliefs about “primitive natives.”

Readers, I would like to suggest a third way. What if Cook was Lono?

When he walked into that ceremony in Kealakekua Bay, accepted the homage of the Hawaiian people, and ascended the tower where the priests spoke to the gods, he became Lono. He stepped into the role of Lono; he was inhabited by Lono. One may quibble about the exact mechanism, but the basic fact remains that the Hawaiians were right.

But in becoming Lono, Cook stepped directly on the path to his own destruction. In his own cultural terms, he had committed blasphemy, broken the first commandment: thou shalt have no other gods before me. In inhabiting the role of a man who was also a god, he had committed a crime against the One True God.

But, at the same time, he was stepping into a role that every Christian child knows. In Cook’s belief system, there was once a man who was God, and He died a violent death.

(In fact, one of Cook’s men argued that Cook died a genuine martyr, accepting his death - “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” - but he was almost certainly trying to cover his own ass for cowardice. He was in a boat just offshore when Cook died, and rowed away rather than rowing in to help.)

In the Hawaiian belief system, meanwhile, Cook’s identity of Lono did not make his death inevitable - yet. As long as he inhabited Lono’s role properly, he was safe.

But first, Cook outstayed Lono’s season, which lasts for four months and then departs. But Cook did not depart punctually. Great tension had grown up before he left.

And once he left, storms forced him back to Kealakekua. He arrived months before the time for Lono’s return, at which point the Hawaiians began to wonder: was this man Lono after all? Now both cultures were aligned, and Cook’s death became inevitable. The theft of one of Cook’s launches led to a confrontation on the beach at Kealakekua, which ended with Cook’s violent death.
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What I Just Finished Reading

Kate Seredy’s The Open Gate. Driving toward their destination for summer vacation, a New York City family pauses at a farm auction. No one is bidding on the farmland itself, so Granny cunningly suggests to Dad, “Why don’t you bid? Just to get things started?”

“DON’T YOU DO IT, BOY!” I shouted, but as so often happens, the characters ignored my wise advice.

Of course Dad wins the farm. Of course, the family has to stay the night, and having stayed one night, they have to keep on staying. And then Granny goes to another farm auction, promising piously not to open her mouth to bid–

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO OPEN YOUR MOUTH TO BID AT AN AUCTION!” I shouted at Dad, who once again foolishly failed to listen to me. He accepted Granny’s promise, and Granny promptly rules-lawyered the farm into two cows (both pregnant) and two horses (also both pregnant) by bidding with a twitch of the hand.

I am all for people going back to the land if they want to, but I prefer stories about it to feature people who actually want to, rather than people who get bamboozled into it by Granny.

Multiple people have recommended Uketsu’s Strange Houses (translated by Jim Rion), and it did NOT disappoint. The book is a mystery based around floor plans, and I am happy to report that there are indeed MANY floor plans (I love a floor plan), which makes the book an even zippier read than you might guess from its size.

Now, do I think the mystery is “plausible” or “makes psychological sense”? Well, no, not really, and if it took longer to read that might have bothered me. But the floor plans and the pacing make the book fly by, and I enjoyed it for what it was, which is an amusingly bizarre puzzle box mystery with, let me repeat, enough floor plans to satisfy even my floor-plan-mad self.

What I’m Reading Now

After years of procrastination, I’ve begun Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose. Happy to report that this ALSO features a floorplan in the endpapers. All the rooms are lettered, but curiously the key only includes some of the letters, so we are left guessing just which room Q might be.

What I Plan to Read Next

Obviously I need to read Uketsu’s Strange Pictures, too.
osprey_archer: (books)
The Newbery Project is BACK, baby! Yesterday, the American Library Association announced the 2026 Newbery winners, which means I’ve got five hot fresh Newbery books to read.

After winning a Newbery Honor in 2018 for Piecing Me Together, Renee Watson went for gold this year with All the Blues in the Sky. I quite liked Piecing Me Together, so I’m hopeful I’ll enjoy this new one as well.

Daniel Nayeri is also a familiar Newbery name: he got an honor in 2024 for The Many Assassinations of Samir, the Seller of Dreams, which I thought was pretty mediocre to be honest. But perhaps I’ll be more impressed by The Teacher of Nomad Land: A World War II Story.

Although this is Karina Yan Glaser’s first Newbery, I’m familiar with her Vanderbeekers series, which is a sort of modern-day version of the Melendys. I read the first book and thought it was okay, but not so okay that I wanted to read on… so we’ll see how I feel about The Nine Moons of Han Yu and Luli.

Finally, two books by new-to-me authors: Aubrey Hartman’s The Undead Fox of Deadwood Forest, and María Dolores Águila’s A Sea of Lemon Trees: The Corrido of Roberto Alvarez. The title of the first is giving me flashbacks to Scary Stories for Young Foxes, which was perhaps the Newbery’s first foray into horror. Fox horror possibly its own genre now? Will report back as I learn more.
osprey_archer: (books)
Still trotting away on my 2015 book log list (only Project Hail Mary holding me back now!), but I wrapped up 2016 so I decided it was time to post the author list for 2017.

Barbara Cooney - Only Opal (a picture book about Opal Whiteley, one of my minor obsessions)

Jane Langton - Her Majesty Grace Jones

Gary Paulsen - The Cookcamp

E. M. Delafield - I’ll finally continue the Provincial Lady books, unless someone has another recommendation

Chris Van Allsburg - A Kingdom Far and Clear (illustrated by Allsburg rather than written by him, but it’s a Swan Lake retelling so I’ve been meaning to take a crack at it)

E. F. Benson - I’m going to give the Mapp and Lucia novels a go! Should I start at the beginning (Queen Lucia) or is this one of those series where order doesn’t matter, in which case where should I start?

Carol Ryrie Brink - I’ve read all the more easily available ones at this point. Tempted by Four Girls on a Homestead or Strangers in the Forest just for their titles.

C. S. Lewis - I’ve read all the famous ones, I think. Leaning toward The Discarded Image: An Introduction to Medieval and Renaissance Literature right now.

E. Nesbit - The Phoenix and the Carpet

Kate Seredy - The Open Gate

Emily Arnold McCully - Starring Mirette and Bellini (I realize I didn’t post about this one. An inferior sequel to Mirette on the High Wire.)

Julia L. Sauer - Mike’s House

Ngaio Marsh - Singing in the Shrouds

Sarah Pennypacker - Pax (I’ve wanted to read this for YEARS based purely on the Jon Klassen cover. Hopefully the book lives up to it.)

Daphne Du Maurier - I’m thinking it’s going to be The House on the Strand, but open to persuasion if you have words in favor of The Scapegoat, Frenchman’s Creek, or The King’s General.

William Dean Howells

Randa Abdel-Fattah - Does My Head Look Big in This?

Edward Eager - Red Head Another one I didn’t review. A rhyming picture book about a red-headed boy who runs away from home because he’s so cross about being called Red all the time, but he learns to appreciate his red hair when it lights his way home. Illustrated by Louis Slobodkin. Slight. Not up there with Mouse Manor.
osprey_archer: (art)
I’ve been enjoying Dorothy Lathrop’s books so much that I checked the university catalog to see if they had any other books by her, and discovered that she illustrated a book of poems by Sara Teasdale! Teasdale has been one of my favorites since we read “There Will Come Soft Rains” in high school, so of course I had to give it a go.

I’m working my way through the book slowly, a poem a night. I ought to save this one till next October, but I haven’t the patience, so here it is.

Late October
By Sara Teasdale

I found ten kinds of wild flower growing
On a steely day that looked like snowing:
Queen Anne’s lace, and blue heal-all,
A buttercup, straggling, grown too tall,
A rusty aster, a chicory flower–
Ten I found in half an hour.
The air was blurred with dry leaves flying,
Gold and scarlet, gaily dying.
A squirrel ran off with a nut in his mouth,
And always, always, flying south,
Twittering, the birds went by,
Flickering sharp against the sky,
Some in great bows, some in wedges,
Some in bands with wavering edges;
Flocks and flocks were flying over
With the north wind for their drover.
“Flowers,” I said, “you’d better go,
Surely it’s coming on for snow,”–
They did not heed me, nor heed the birds,
Twittering thin, far-fallen words–
The others through of to-morrow, but they
Only remembered yesterday.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans, John Marzluff and Tony Angell. Full of fun anecdotes about crows bringing people gifts, playing with dogs and cats, gathering silently around the corpse of a fellow crow, etc. I found the neurology stuff very boring but I know some people are into that. In general I think we should move away from describing animals who do smart things as acting “like humans.”

Also Ngaio Marsh’s Singing in the Shrouds, because of course I couldn’t resist diving in once I’d bought it. This one features a serial killer, which to be honest is not my favorite kind of murder mystery, but it takes place on shipboard (Year of Sail strikes again!) among a cast of eccentric characters, which is my favorite kind of Marsh so I still had a great time despite the serial killer of it all. Stayed up late to find out the identity of the murderer and was quite satisfied with the identity of the killer if not the neat Freudian-ness of the explanation for the crimes, but listen, if you WILL read murder mysteries written in the 1930s-1960s or so, you’re asking for overly neat Freudian explanations of crimes and you know it.

What I’m Reading Now

I’ve slogged about a third of the way through National Velvet, to the part where Velvet wins a horse in a raffle and also gets five horses from an old guy who writes her into his will and then immediately shoots himself. (!!!) Does it pick up from here, or is it more of the same?

I was briefly STYMIED in In the First Circle, because my copy is missing thirty pages!!! It looks like there was a production error, as the book looks perfectly fine (no pages torn out etc) but nonetheless jumps directly from page 476 to page 509.

However, I had the fortunate thought to check a different library, which helpfully had an ebook (of the same translation, even!). So I read through the missing pages and am now back on track, provided of course that there are no more nasty shocks of this sort.

What I Plan to Read Next

Hampton Sides’ The Wide Wide Sea: Imperial Ambition, First Contact and the Fateful Final Voyage of Captain James Cook. Yes, indeed, Year of Sail continues.
osprey_archer: (books)
I have returned from a weekend of dissipation in Bloomington! We visited FOUR local bookstores, during which book-shopping spree I bought:

Used copies of Gary Paulsen’s The Cookcamp and Ngaio Marsh’s Singing in the Shrouds, both from the public library.

Used DVDs of Chernobyl and the Ruth Wilson Jane Eyre for myself, plus Brideshead Revisited and season 3 of the 1960s Batman for a friend (who will be therefore enabled to return my copy of Brideshead Revisited)

Mary Stolz’s Ready or Not, which has simply gorgeous endpapers (would any of my fellow Stolz fans like a crack at this book after I’m done?)

And Knight Owl and Early Bird, a birthday present for my niece, whose birthday is not until March, but who am I to turn down an opportunity to support the Book Corner? (I’ll probably also buy her a picture book from my beloved Von’s.)

We also hit up Goods for Cooks, which tragically did not have my beloved dark chocolate hobnobs, but I DID buy a sieve and a garden herb themed dishtowel and a bright springy oven mitt. (I liked to have seasonal dish towels, oven mitts, napkins etc; an easy way to decorate for the seasons.) In between the sieve and the potato masher I got for Christmas, I feel rich in kitchen ware.

And we went to my friend Becky’s house to hang out with the dog and three cats and the baby, who gave us the grumpy Churchill face for about half an hour before deciding that we were all right and toddling over to the coffee table (with the help of her baby walker) to pick up one of our shortbread cookies. To eat it? No. Just to hold it. An interesting texture perhaps.

And then Caitlin and I went back to her place and watched a couple Poirots and ate more cookies, and then I went to bed and read The Cookcamp, a short memoir about the time he spent with his grandmother as a small child when she was working at a road-grading camp, companion piece to Alida's Song and The Quilt. Sweet and poignant if you enjoy a childhood memoir.

Then this morning I drove home and began rewatching Chernobyl. (What a good show! Already watched two episodes and only paused with difficulty to make dinner.) A most successful visit.
osprey_archer: (books)
Sometimes in one’s literary life one simply wants to suffer, and when this urge hits, I know where to turn: Émile Zola, the 19th century French naturalist writer who paints brutally frank pictures of people in extremis.

This time around I read Thérèse Raquin, Zola’s breakout hit which was anathemized in French literary journals as “putrid,” a “sewer.” If you’ve read any nineteenth century English or American novels, which tend to portray the entire field of French literature as a putrid sewer, you know that Théresè Raquin must be something really special.

Actually I thought Thérèse Raquin ends up pulling its punches in a way that Zola’s later novels don’t. Yes, the main characters behave abominably, but in the end they also suffer terribly for it, which has a moral neatness that you don’t necessarily find in, say, Germinal.

At the beginning of the novel, Thérèse Raquin is living a life of quiet desperation. Married to her sickly cousin Camille, she works all day in her aunt’s haberdashery, and her life seems likely to continue in exactly this dull routine for fifty years until she dies. Until one day when Camille shows up with a friend in tow: the healthy, vibrant Laurent…

Thérèse and Laurent begin a passionate affair. But when it becomes logistically impossible for the affair to continue, they hatch a plan: they’ll kill Camille! Then, after a suitable amount of time has elapsed, they’ll get married. (This is one of the great scenes of the book. They never entirely spell out that they have a plan, only comment wistfully that, after all, accidents do happen… but gazing meaningfully at each other the whole time, both knowing that accidents can be orchestrated.)

So they drown Camille on a boating expedition. No one suspects them, they wait for a year and a half, all is well.

But then they wed. And once they’re together… well… they discover that they’ve accidentally orchestrated the world’s most horrible OT3: Théresè, Laurent, and the ghost/hallucination of Camille’s drowned corpse, always with them whenever they’re alone together.

This book was apparently viewed as a horror novel in the 19th century and it retains that horrifying power: the inescapable waterlogged green corpse of Camille, which lies between Thérèse and Laurent in bed at night and floats in the corners of their bedroom and sits at the table with them whenever they’re alone.

However, this does make the novel in some ways less brutal than Zola’s later fiction. Even though Thérèse and Laurent are never arrested, they suffer unceasingly for their crime, tormented by their own minds. Zola is at pains to assure us that Théresè and Laurent definitely don’t feel remorse for their killing, that they wouldn’t care at ALL if it weren’t for the fact that they were suffering continual visions of the man they killed, but since they are suffering these continual visions and in fact kill themselves in the end in order to escape this continual torment… I mean, does it really matter if you don’t call it remorse if it works pretty much exactly like extreme remorse?

On the other hand, Zola is cruel enough to give Thérèse’s aunt a paralyzing stroke, and after she’s paralyzed and unable to speak, she realizes that her beloved niece and her niece’s equally beloved new husband in fact killed her son. Once they know that she knows, they give up all pretense and start screaming at each other about the murder every evening, and the paralyzed aunt has no choice but to sit there and listen. Nightmare fuel.

Amazing psychological horror. What a claustrophobic book. I wouldn’t call it a good time precisely, but it’s exactly the time you want if you feel like experiencing the literary equivalent of trying to claw through the wall with your bare hands.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Elizabeth Enright’s Then There Were Five. That’s right, the Melendys are back! This time, they befriend a local boy with no friends or relations except his horrible uncle, and the Melendy children take him home and ask “Can we keep him???” They gather scrap metal for the war effort, plan a festival (children in books always throw the most satisfying festivals), and put up a truly astonishing amount of tomatoes.

What I’m Reading Now

Onward and upward in Solzhenitsyn’s In the First Circle! The blurb on the front of this novel praises it as “suspenseful,” which is fascinating because that’s probably the last adjective I’d use to describe it. Absorbing, yes. Full of meticulous portraits of a dizzying array of people, yes. We meet a deeply religious prisoner, a soft-hearted prison guard, Stalin, a prisoner who still believes fanatically in Communism, a prisoner’s wife whose devotion to her husband is cracking under the strain of separation, her friend in their grad student dorm who is trying to wriggle free of being recruited as an informer…

But suspenseful? I wouldn’t call it suspenseful. We’re halfway through the book and we’ve just now meandered back to Volodin, the guy who telephoned the American embassy on Christmas Eve to warn them that the Soviets are planning to steal their atomic bomb secrets. We are not urgently searching for Volodin (well, maybe the fanatically Communist prisoner Rubin is urgently searching for Volodin), we are gently bobbing around in a pool and occasionally bobbing a bit extra hard when we come across one of the ripples caused when Volodin tossed his pebble.

What I Plan to Read Next

National Velvet!
osprey_archer: (books)
Ahoy there, mateys! In 2026, [personal profile] littlerhymes and I have embarked on a Year of Sail, starting with C. S. Forester’s Mr. Midshipman Hornblower!

(This was apparently not the first Hornblower published, but it is the first chronologically, so we decided to start there.)

In this book we meet Horatio Hornblower, a cool, logical, mathematically talented all-around doofus who gets seasick on his very first row out to his new ship as midshipman. The seasickness fades but the general awkwardness does not, as evidenced in the story where a woman offers to hide dispatches in her petticoats and Hornblower is like: discussing stays? and petticoats? with a woman???? and then there’s a glimpse of her thigh WHERE TO LOOK??????

He’s also almost madly brave, as evidenced in the story where he purposefully climbs aboard a fire ship (that is, a ship that has been purposefully set on fire in order to set other ships ablaze) in order to steer it out of the harbor. Absolute madman. But it’s the logical thing to do, so calmly he goes ahead and does it.

Over the years I’ve osmosed that the Hornblower movies starring Ioan Gruffud are good and also slashy, so I decided that I might as well give them a go too. I watched the first two, then commented to [personal profile] littlerhymes, “These are good but they AREN’T slashy, the internet lied to me.”

“Watch the next movie,” [personal profile] littlerhymes commanded.

HOLY COW.

So in the first movie, Hornblower and company are on their way to a surprise night attack on a French frigate when Hornblower’s friend Mr. Midshipman Kennedy has a seizure. Unable to think of any other way to keep him quiet, Hornblower knocks him over the head, which means that they have to leave him on the jolly boat as the rest of them attack the frigate, and the jolly boat is cast adrift with Kennedy still in it.

In the third movie, Kennedy returns! Specially, Hornblower is TAKEN CAPTIVE by the SPANISH and in his very cell in Spanish prison, he finds Kennedy, who greets him “GO AWAY.”

Then Kennedy turns his face to the wall. He just got out of the punishment cell which is so small that you can neither lie down nor stand up, and he can no longer straighten his legs, and he wants to die.

Naturally Hornblower tenderly nurses him back to health, which involves gently smoothing his lustrous hair from his brow. (The production team clearly threw realism to the winds with the lustrous hair, as I feel strongly that Mr. Midshipman “so depressed he’s trying to starve himself to death” Kennedy would probably not be bothering to comb his hair or indeed shave and would therefore have a beard like Santa Claus.) It does NOT involve climbing into bed with him to warm him with his own body heat, but I feel sure that fanfic has filled in this gap, and if it hasn’t (or even if it has) I might need to commit a little fic for the cause.
osprey_archer: (books)
Two of the most interesting (deranged, over the top, extremely fun but also WTF) books I read last year were Henry Lien’s Peasprout Chen: Future Legend of Skate and Sword and Peasprout Chen: Battle of Champions. So when I discovered that Lien had written a book about storytelling, Spring, Summer, Asteroid, Bird: The Art of Eastern Storytelling, of course I had to read what the author of Peasprout Chen has to say about storytelling, even though I generally approach the idea of Eastern and Western storytelling styles with a healthy dose of suspicion.

To sum up this suspicion briefly, I think that people often look at a snapshot of what Eastern and Western storytellers are doing right now, and then draw conclusions about The Eternal Differences of Eastern and Western Storytelling that aren’t Eternal at all, since they would be completely blown out of the water by a wider historical view.

For instance, I’ve seen the argument that “Western stories must have conflict,” which (although there are obviously outliers) is a pretty good summation of the current Western vision of how stories work… but in the 19th and early 20th century, stories about the characters having good times with no conflict were an accepted and popular literary mode in America and England, especially in children’s books.

Given this viewpoint, it’s perhaps no surprise that I think the book is strongest when it focuses on the differences between Eastern and Western animated children’s stories (for which read “Studio Ghibli” and “Disney”). The artform has only been around for about a hundred years and it’s been dominated by a handful of main companies, so one person can meaningfully encompass most of what’s been released. And the differences are striking, as I think anyone who grew up on Disney and then saw a Ghibli film can attest. Wait, you don’t have to have a villain? You don’t even have to have conflict? The kids can just ride in the catbus?

The weakest part IMO is the chapter where Lien argues that Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go is telling a profoundly Eastern story, because rather than rebel against their circumstances, the characters accept their fate and try to live the best lives they can within that context. Now I’m sure this is something that happens in Eastern stories, but this is also a theme with deep roots in the history of the English novel. Admittedly a theme that is deeply out of fashion right now! One that literary critics and internet pundits complain about at length when they discuss nineteenth century English novels! And then other critics/pundits reply, “Isn’t trying to live the best life you can in limited circumstances the TRUE rebellion, though?”, because Western critics/pundits have generally accepted that Rebellion is the moral standard by which literary works should be judged and by which we should all live.

So in that sense I suppose I’ve talked myself into agreeing with Lien, at least to the extent of agreeing that Ishiguro is telling a story that is alien and upsetting to current Western literary sensibilities… but it’s alien and upsetting in a way that has Western roots just as deep as the Eastern ones. Mansfield Park makes people blow a gasket for pretty much the same reason.

Reading the book is a bit like going to a coffee shop with a friend and having a good rousing literary argument. You may have some quibbles, you may indeed have some big disagreements, but it’s a stimulating and enjoyable experience nonetheless.

However, fair warning, it will not give you any new insight into why Peasprout Chen is Like That. Peasprout will simply remain a bizarre and beautiful mystery.
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

I rounded out 2025 with Jacqueline Woodson’s Locomotion, the verse prequel to Peace, Locomotion. I thought Peace, Locomotion was ultimately a stronger book, but nonetheless I enjoyed spending more time with the characters.

Then I kicked off 2026 with the new Charles Lenox mystery, The Hidden City, in which Charles Lenox gently brushes against the life of the extremely poor! These books are always a good time, extremely readable, although I thought some of the backstory was unnecessarily convoluted, for reasons that I attempted to explain only for the explanation to quickly grow unwieldy. Too convoluted!

Finally - alert to my fellow Elizabeth Wein fans! She recently co-authored a book with Sherri L. Smith (of Flygirl fame), American Wings: Chicago’s Pioneering Black Aviators and the Race for Equality in the Skies, which does what it says on the tin, plus some excursions to Ethiopia during the Italian invasion of 1936, during which time Pioneering Black Chicago Aviator John C. Robinson attempted to train an Ethiopian air force despite Ethiopia’s pitiful collection of woefully outdated aircraft. It’s not the final Lion Hunters novel but I’ll take what I can get.

What I’m Reading Now

Like Tolstoy, Solzhenitsyn starts out In the First Circle by introducing dozens of characters with about three names each, and in my confusion I was flagging a bit. But then! Then Solzhenitsyn stops dead for Stalin to recount his life story! And now Stalin is meeting with head of SMERSH Abakumov (SMERSH of course stands for “Death to Spies”) who begs Stalin to bring back the death penalty. It’s so hard to keep track of who you’ve executed when you’re not officially allowed to execute people! “You might be the first one we execute,” Stalin teases(what a wag!), and Abakumov murmurs anxiously that of course if it becomes necessary…

What I Plan to Read Next

Thanhha Lai has published a sequel to Inside Out and Back Again: When Clouds Touch Us. I couldn’t bring myself to check it out because I am generally suspicious of sequels, but I know that I won’t be able to resist for long.
osprey_archer: (shoes)
Looking at my New Year post for 2025, I see that my plans were (1) plant a garden, and (2) compost. (1) I achieved in a small way: I planted herbs, I ate fresh herbs, I planned my guest meals around being able to airily comment “I need some chives” purely in order to waltz out onto the patio and clip the chives fresh. (However, the non-herb parts of the garden grew outside of my control, and I must do a better job with them in 2026.)

I was stymied in (2) by the small size of my yard and the voracity of the local wildlife, who enthusiastically dug up anything I buried to compost. However, a friend has started to compost, so I save my compost things in the freezer and bring them along to add to the heap whenever I visit, so at least it’s all getting composted eventually.

The New Year’s Resolution I actually kept was one I stole from [personal profile] genarti later in January, to read one book from my physical To-Read shelf each month. I achieved this! A couple of months I even read two! One month I DNF’ed the book, but upon consultation with [personal profile] genarti we agreed that, as this also achieves the ultimate goal of removing the book from the Unread Book Club, it still counts.

I also managed to keep pace with any new book purchases as they came in, meaning that the number of books in the Unread Book Club is in fact smaller. So I’ll be continuing with this resolution. At the present rate, I should empty the To-Read shelf in 2027. Naturally I will celebrate with a trip to John K. King Books and return with a massive pile of books with which to restart the Unread Book Club.

Otherwise, my goal for this year is not to start any new reading projects. Read at whim! I do want to continue the Book Log Challenge, because it is a good way to remind myself of authors I’ve been meaning to read more books by… but it often happens that I’ll be reaching the end of a particular list and really just don’t feel like reading anything by the last author or two.

That is fine! I can simply decide to strike that author and move on! The list is an aide-memoire, not a binding document. Maybe I should change the tag to Book Log Frolic rather than Book Log Challenge.

…Having said this, I was all set to strike Project Hail Mary because I keep looking at the book and going “Naaaah don’t feel like it,” but then [personal profile] rachelmanija posted it was one of her favorite books of the year, so… Okay, I have to at least pick it up. Give it twenty pages or so to grab me. That seems only fair, right?
osprey_archer: (shoes)
1. Bought the Hummingbird Cottage.

2. Resolved to read a book from my TBR shelf each month. Happy to say I have kept this resolution! Also kept the sister resolution to read purchased books in a timely manner rather than add them to the TBR shelf to languish.

3. Moved into the Hummingbird Cottage.

4. Started work on my garden. This was not wholly successful - the already established mint has unfortunately completely gotten away from me - but I did manage to grow a nice array of herbs, and at least planted two cherry tomato plants, which I think got a little too much shade to flourish as they should. A beginning at least!

5. Learned how to cross stitch and completed MANY cross stitches. (Bsky thread with photos of my cross stitches.) Highlights include the Halloween cat, the fat red bird, and the unfinished trio of Puss in Boots. I have completed Puss Putting on Cape and Puss Putting on Boots but not yet Puss in Full Regalia with Plumed Hat… Then I needed some emergency Christmas presents so I ended up giving them all away and will need to begin the Puss in Boots trio all over again.

6. Finished the Newbery project! This has been either seven or twenty-five years in the making, depending how you’re counting.

7. Roasted a duck.

8. Made marshmallows! A friend sent me homemade marshmallows over a decade ago, and I’ve been chasing that homemade marshmallow high ever since.

9. All Christmas Book Advent, during which I read nothing but Christmas books during the advent season. Successful AGAINST MY WILL, as I attempted to break my vow on December 24, only to discover that the book with which I intended to break my vow started on Christmas Eve. Have considered this challenge for years so glad that I gave it a go, but have established to my own satisfaction that All Christmas Books is Too Many Christmas Books for me.

10. Picture Book Advent! In which I checked out 24 Christmas picture books from the library, wrapped them up under the tree, and opened one to read each day. I enjoyed this so much that I intend to make it a yearly tradition. Already planning to cross-stitch little Advent tags numbering 1 to 24.
osprey_archer: (books)
I’m doing the Reading Meme one day early this week, as tomorrow is the last day of the year and therefore the day for the Year In Review.

What I’ve Just Finished Reading

I am freeeeeeeee of my vow to read Christmas books for Advent, and therefore… accidentally read one more book with Christmas in… Marilyn Kluger’s Country Kitchens Remembered: A Memoir with Favorite Family Recipes, about the farm kitchens she remembers from her childhood during the Depression, not only her own family’s but her grandparents on both sides. Like any good farm kitchen memoir, the book documents the different foods of each season, which means of course a Christmas chapter, but also chapters about the new peas of spring, the corn on the cob fresh cut from the stalk literally minutes before lunch, the frost-nipped persimmons brought in during the Thanksgiving grouse hunt… Good eating and good reading.

But then! Then I truly broke free with Ngaio Marsh’s Spinsters in Jeopardy! Set in summer in the south of France, Inspector Alleyn and his lady wife Troy co-star in a mystery featuring a drug racket run by an erotic murder cult. You know I love a cult! Also featuring their six-year-old son Ricky, a surprisingly well-observed child. A shocking number of writers of adult fiction couldn’t write a convincing kid to save their life.

And I also slipped in my December Unread Bookshelf book by the skin of my teeth: E. Nesbit’s The Phoenix and the Carpet. I got this soon after I read Five Children and It, then it languished for so many years that I forgot why I was putting it off, but as I read it I remembered: I find these children so stressful! They are forever doing things like “setting off firecrackers inside the house,” which is how they set fire to the old nursery carpet which results in the bringing in of the magic carpet.

What I’m Reading Now

I’ve started Rumer Godden’s Thus Far and Now Farther, which so far is what I expected Elizabeth and her German Garden to be: a charming memoir about a woman in an isolated location with her children, her governess, and her vast army of underpriced labor making a charming garden.

What I Plan to Read Next

No plans! Only vibes! Okay, actually I do have plans, but I am contemplating if I ought to jettison them in favor of vibes. Maybe 2026 should be the Year of Vibe Reading? I have been trying to come up with a good New Year's Resolution...
osprey_archer: (books)
And Picture Book Advent draws gently to a close. A note for my future self: although traditionally Advent ends on December 24, I think it would be nice to have a final picture book for the morning of Christmas. (My sister-in-law’s large extended family does a BIG Christmas, so we’ve simply ceded Christmas Day to them and have our own little family Christmas later on, which leaves Christmas morning open.)

Because of the way the dates of Advent fell, I had only two books left to review. First, The Wee Christmas Cabin at Carn-na-ween, by Ruth Sawyer, illustrated by Max Grafe, a picture book version of a story I first read in Sawyer’s story collection The Long Christmas. After a lifetime helping out in one cabin after another, with never a home of her own, old Oona is at last driven from her final house on Christmas Eve… only for the Good Folk to build her a house, and grant her wish that every white Christmas hence, the hungry and the lonely will be able to find her home for succor.

A lovely story. Another solid example from Sawyer that the spirit of Christmas is “generosity” and not “copious evergreens.”

And second, The Christmas Sweater, Jan Brett’s new Christmas book this year! Theo’s Yiayia knitted an extremely gaudy Christmas sweater for his dignified pug Ari. Hoping to win Ari over to the cozy warm sweater, Theo takes her for a snowshoe in the woods… only for a fresh fall of snow to obliterate his tracks! But fortunately, Ari(adne)’s sweater caught on a twig near the edge of the woods, so they can follow the unraveled yarn back home.

From the dedication, it looks like one of Brett’s children married into a Greek family, and this book is an homage to that family connection. I particularly enjoyed Ari’s expressive face, and indeed all the dogs running around in the snow in this book.

Conclave

Dec. 28th, 2025 03:47 pm
osprey_archer: (art)
A last-minute entry to movies I watched in 2025! When I popped into the library yesterday, there was Conclave sitting on the New DVDs shelf, so of course I snatched it up and took it right home and watched it.

Conclave is about a fictional modern-day conclave to elect a new pope, and I’ve been chomping at the bit to see it since it came out because… I guess I am just into movies about the Catholic church… I don’t fully understand this about myself. It may just be the aesthetic. Gold! Red! Shiny things! Lots of candles! One can criticize many things about the Catholic Church but by God they’ve got a look.

Anyway, cardinals converge on Rome, all wearing their cardinal gear, and if like me you enjoy things like aerial shots of cardinals carrying white parasols crossing the courtyard of a vast church complex, you will find great visual delight in this movie. And the movie doesn’t bog down in explaining things like the white parasols either. We don’t need to know why they’re part of the cardinal’s vestments.

The plot of the movie centers on the machinations to elect the new pope, featuring a bunch of guys who desperately want to be pope but also desperately need to pretend that they are being forced into pope candidacy against their will, because other people believe they are the best candidate. At one point in my life I would have scoffed at this hypocrisy, but having endured many years of Donald Trump on the public scene, I have come to believe that actually it’s quite politically useful for candidates to have to hang back until other people more or less drag them bodily into candidacy.

At the center of this is Ralph Fiennes, and I regret to inform you that I remember almost none of the character names from this movie, because I really struggle to tell people apart when they are all dressed the same and also all look pretty similar, in this case a bunch of old white guys with a smattering of old guys of other races.

Ralph Fiennes, as I was saying, is playing the guy who is in charge of making sure the election runs smoothly, and also perhaps awkwardly is one of the candidates - against his will, of course. (Perhaps slightly more sincerely against his will than some of the others.) I saw him about a year ago in the National Theater recording of Antony and Cleopatra, where he plays the sottish, running to seed, impulsive and still dangerous Antony, and his character here is just about the opposite in every way, which raised my respect for his acting ability even more.

He is calm, controlled, thoughtful, and deeply compassionate, a quality perhaps most clear in the scene where he points out to another cardinal that his hopes to be pope are toast. On the surface this action seems almost brutal, but that clarity allows the other cardinal to grieve his dreams in private, instead of hoping against hope and watching them get smashed in public.

An absorbing movie. I didn’t love it quite as much as I hoped to love it, but I greatly enjoyed watching it nonetheless.
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I’ve barely posted about movies this year, so I decided to do a quick movie round-up - very quick, as I’ve watched barely any movies this year! Some years are just not movie years, I guess…

The Balloonatic: a remix of a Buster Keaton movie set to the music of… okay I should have taken notes, I can’t remember the band, suffice it to say that it was a recentish band to which you would perhaps not expect Buster Keaton to be set. Smashing Pumpkins maybe? Lots of interesting cutting of the film which I don’t really have the technical vocabulary to describe, but just like - cutting what was clearly once one long shot into multiple shots? Kind of synced to the music?

I dragged the Brunch Bunch along to this showing, and we agreed that we’d see another if another came to town. But as we were just about the only people in the theater it is perhaps unsurprising that the theater has not booked another. Even an arthouse cinema has to have an audience.

Interview with a Vampire: I posted a bit of comparison to the book, but did not take time to note that this movie is an A++ example of complete commitment to an aesthetic, the aesthetic in this case being “decadent opulence spattered in blood.” This is an occasional aesthetic for me rather than one I would like to live in, but I admire the commitment.

The Shape of Water: This was a big disappointment, to be honest. Guillermo del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth is one of my all-time favorites, so I went into this movie with high hopes, but honestly it just draaaaaaagged for me. Also highly doubt the ability of the fish-man from the Amazon to survive in the icy coastal waters of the Atlantic.

Kiki’s Delivery Service. A rewatch! Still one of my favorite movies, probably my top two Studio Ghibli with My Neighbor Totoro (but now I feel bad leaving out Spirited Away...) Love Kiki, love Jiji, love the richly detailed setting (which we dubbed “Francemany,” as it is clearly a mash-up of various European localities), love Miyazaki’s love of flying machines. This is an aesthetic I WOULD like to live in.

Also a couple of documentaries. Take Joy! The Magical World of Tasha Tudor is about Tudor’s life at Corgi Cottage, built and largely run in the style of a 19th century farmhouse, where Tudor lives with her goats, her doves, her corgyn (Tudor’s plural of corgi), her one-eyed cat Minou, and seven looms. (These are not all Tudor’s looms. Sometimes she gives house-space to a friend’s loom, if the friend doesn’t have loom room, a loom being a large contraption.) An inspiring example of building your own little world and living in it.

This theme is further developed in Take Peace: A Corgi Cottage Christmas with Tasha Tudor, an enchanting documentary perfect for anyone who has ever enjoyed Tasha Tudor’s Christmas illustrations, as the illustrations apparently draw extensively on Tasha Tudor’s own Christmas traditions or possibly vice versa, in a virtuous cycle of candlelit charm.

If you can’t find the documentary, the photo book Forever Christmas appears to have been made in conjunction, and includes some material not included in the film. Can’t believe they left out the sleigh ride!
osprey_archer: (books)
At the end of November, I was racing to the end of a few books to finish them before All Christmas Advent. I finished reading them in time, but ran out of time to post about them, so I’m posting about them now.

First, I finished The Spring of Butterflies and Other Folktales of China’s Minority Peoples, translated by He Liyi and edited by Neil Philip. This is one of those books where the story behind the book is as interesting as the stories themselves. He Liyi started studying English in the 1940s, but during the Cultural Revolution he lost all access to his English language study materials. However, after the Cultural Revolution, he took it up again, and in the 1980s he got in touch with the BBC, which eventually arranged for this collection of translated folktales to be published.

They also held a contest in China to find an illustrator, and eventually narrowed it down to either Zhao Li or Aiqing Pan… at which point they discovered that these two illustrators were actually a married couple! So they ended up illustrating the book together.

I also finished Sarah Rees Brennan’s Long Live Evil. What a ride! What a riot! Our heroine Rae is dying of cancer when she gets the chance to go into the world of her favorite fantasy series and steal the Flower of Life and Death. Of course she jumps at it… only to discover herself in the body of the villainess on the eve of her execution! Aided only by her wits and her somewhat vague memories of the series’ plot (cancer did a number on her memory), Rae sets herself up as a prophetess in an escalating series of schemes that keep steering the story more and more off course.

And then it ends on a cliffhanger! This is the first book in a duology. Not deep but good fun. I usually steer well clear of cancer books (well, any kind of illness books), as they tend to set off my hypochondria so I decide I’m probably dying of whatever the main character has, but in this case the cancer is a fairly light presence after the first chapter so I didn’t feel that. Much. Except maybe a little bit in the days after, whenever I forgot something. Who knew memory loss could mean cancer?

Finally, because I was concerned I would run out of reading material before December, I got Peter Beagle’s Tamsin, and then December and my all-Christmas-all-the-time resolution were barreling down on me and I still have two-thirds of the book to go. But Bramble politely lay on my legs until two pages from the end to ensure I finished, which was suitable, as Tamsin features one of the great cats in literature: Mister Cat, our heroine Jenny’s Siamese cat, who falls in love with a ghost cat and therefore leads Jenny to meet and fall in love with the ghost girl Tamsin.

[personal profile] skygiants recommended this book to me with a comment on Jenny’s massive crush on Tamsin, which I expected to be subtextual. But no! Two paragraphs after they meet, Jenny muses, “I think that was when I fell in love with her.” She’s a BEAUTIFUL SAD GHOST, what more could you want?
osprey_archer: (books)
What I’ve Just Finished Reading

Christmas books! So many Christmas books. Look, the problem is that so many Christmas books are short, all right? Like Janice Hallett’s The Christmas Appeal, a slim novella that I definitely should have read last year when The Appeal was still fresh in my mind, as I spent about half of The Christmas Appeal remembering who was who. But it was still a fun fast read and there was a cameo by my girl Issy, who remains just as Issy as ever, bless her little heart.

Continuing this murder kick, I read J. Jefferson Farjeon’s Mystery in White, a fascinating example of the genre in that the closest thing the book has to a detective is a guy from the society of psychic research who keeps murmuring about how it’s like the crime WANTS to be solved… well, that’s one way to explain why the heroes keep literally stumbling upon the evidence. Enjoyed the snowy atmosphere and the character portraits, especially the chorus girl Jessie, who should have gotten David in the end IMO. Not sure they were really that well-suited, but I was annoyed that a more class-appropriate girl appeared three-quarters of the way through the book.

And also Agatha Christie’s Murder for Christmas, known in the UK has Hercule Poirot’s Christmas, but presumably American publishers were afraid that without the word murder in the title American readers might assume that Poirot is having a holly jolly Christmas eating plum pudding without any murder at all. Quite enjoyed this one. Always nice to see a horrible family dynamic play out in a murder mystery.

Also Ruth Sawyer’s The Long Christmas, a collection of Christmas legends from around the world and a reminder that the Christmas Spirit, for all its current holly jolly picture-perfect Hallmark movie reputation, can in fact be pretty metal. The Christmas spirit is not about giving a bit of spare change to a photogenic waif before retreating to your mansion with the gingerbread on the eves perfectly outlined in Christmas lights. The Christmas Spirit says, “Oh, none of you are going to share your fireside and your last crust of bread with this weary footsore traveler on Christmas Eve? Well, then, I am going to raise the floods and drown your entire selfish town.”

Although Sawyer’s This Way to Christmas did not repeat this particular story, some of the other stories overlap with The Long Christmas. Published in 1915, the story centers on a little boy facing a lonely Christmas on a snowy mountain where none of the neighbors speak to each other, for they are of all different nationalities and races: German-American, American Black, Brazilian Portuguese, and small Ruritanian country that just got invaded by Germany.

However, our hero (inspired by a visit from a fairy wearing a squirrel suit) visits each cottage, hears a Christmas story from each person, and in the end inspires his foster parents to invite them all to Christmas, invitations in the form of signposts saying THIS WAY TO CHRISTMAS, hence the title.

And in the archives, I read Lee Kingman’s The Magic Christmas Tree, illustrated by Bettina. Little Joanna is lonely because she’s the youngest of ten and always in the way, until she finds her own special secret place: clearing in the woods with a pine tree just her size. Little Julie is lonely at home because she’s the only child in a vast mansion, but finds solace when she finds a little pine tree in the woods perfect for a hideaway. And then at Christmastime, Joanna hides a beloved doll by the tree… and Julie, thrilled by this magical appearance, brings the mystery doll a little doll bed and fur coverlet… and when Joanna returns with a baby doll so her doll won’t be lonely, she in turn is astonished…

OMG. So cute. I do wish it were longer so there was more time for the girls’ friendship to develop after they finally meet.

What I’m Reading Now

Unable to face another Christmas book, I broke down and started Aleksander Solzhenitsyn’s In the First Circle... which turns out to start on Christmas Eve! The German POWs are having a Christmas tree. One of the other zeks is making a Christmas present. I can’t even. I’ll never escape.

What I Plan to Read Next

Non-Christmas books! Anything but Christmas! In particular, I’ve got Andy Weir’s Project Hail Mary and Mai Ishizawa’s The Place of Shells checked out, while Emile Zola’s Therese Raquin and Elizabeth Enright’s Then There Were Five are on hold.

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