All my Antics, Mostly Reviews

Month: April 2020

Critters of Light: A Message

It’s been a while since I published anything like a story on here, but this just came to my mind this morning, and as much as it’s an unfinished vignette, I wanted to share it with you. So I hope you’ll enjoy it, and if so, maybe I’ll manage to write more in this universe.

A Message

She stepped back into the shadow. Here it was dark. Here the night didn’t even see a ray of moonlight. This was nice. She felt at home in the dark. That’s where she grew up. That’s where she decided to stay. Now she was hiding and again the darkness felt homely. This was a good place to stop and rest. Here, where the eyes of the critters of light were useless. She detested those little beasts, like cockroaches, warm, quick, small and plentiful. Here in the darkness, she was safe.

She opened her coat. This had been a wet night, even under her coat her wings had gotten wet. Now the clouds had made their way for moonlight, and now the critters were back at it again.

She spread her wings and violently shook her head to dry off a bit. The coat fell to the floor. She wouldn’t need it anymore tonight. There were more important things than a piece of now wet cloth. She shook her head again to get the last drops of cold autumn rain out of her feathers.

She was an owl, and she loved the darkness. The critters, however, abhorred it. They were repulsed by it. Like a disorganised army, they surged against the terminator and were repelled by the pain the darkness caused them. Still, again and again, they tried to take the line, as if they could move the darkness further back with every surge, but they couldn’t cross it, and for now, they couldn’t move it and they couldn’t survive the shadow.

She looked at them for a moment. She looked away, with her beak she pulled a piece of dirt out of her wing feathers. Here she was safe, but she here she couldn’t stay. The rain had stopped, but her message still needed to be delivered, even if the critters now were out. She still needed to cross the river into the capital city. And her message was important. These critters weren’t after her for no reason.

Sure, critters would attack people for no reason. That definitely wasn’t beneath them, or any of the creatures of light. The light was nasty like that. Nevertheless, these critters had a goal. They needed to stop her. Their future depended on it. The news she was bringing could have meant their end.

Kathlyn the Owl new she wouldn’t have much time left to bring her message to faer majesty the Queen of Thorma – what a beakful! She didn’t even have the time for a pit-stop at her girlfriend’s treehouse. That had to wait. First, she had to bring the news, that would change this war, and, well, she would have to deal with these inconvenient critters of light now. She probably would have to fly, not an easy undertaking with her dampened feathers, and a head full of sorrows.

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The Blue of Distance

A Review of Rebecca Solnit’s A Field Guide to Getting Lost

I first read this collection of essays about a year ago. Then it was the book discussed in Life’s Library Book Club. Now I read it again, with different eyes, more discipline and a stressful world around me. With the COVID-19 epidemic going on around me this book got a whole other depth of meaning. Now it was not only the book I read to participate in fruitful discussions with friends but also the book that I needed to quench my thirst. My thirst for the far, my wanderlust, my “Fernweh” – as the Germans call it – had never been as pressing as now when the boundaries of my travels weren’t financial hurdles, but the need to save struggling healthcare systems.

When I first read this collection of essays, I remember not particularly liking it. It seemed verbose and I was getting lost in it, which to be fair would have been an apt accomplishment for a book titled A Field Guide to Getting Lost. Now on a second read, I have more thought about Solnit’s very personal stories all connected by the common theme of loss and getting lost.

Rebecca Solnit

On this second read, this became a deeply insightful collection. And it inspired me to a lot of artistic productivity, so much so that I struggled with placing it all in conjunction with this article. There’s a depth to Solnit’s writing, depth of references that not only makes you feel being lost, it lets you smell, and see and hear getting lost. What I had interpreted as verbosity on my first struggling read through this book, that took me months, I now saw as a deep richness. Certainly, that was helped by already knowing the gist of the stories Solnit was about to tell me, but it also helped to read faster, more precisely, not stopping in the middle of a thought but at the end of essays.

In a sense, the last time I read this book, I was getting lost in it, and now again I’m getting lost in it but in a very different way. Then I was getting lost by missing the point the direction to understand where I was; now I was getting lost in an experience.

Solnit’s writing still is dense like a thick forest. And I don’t fault anyone for finding it too dense. Especially on a first read, this book might really make one feel lost at reading it, but now after I read it a second time, I can only shake my head at what I missed.

Now I almost wish I had more to say about it. I wish I could give you a song to navigate this book, I wish I had taken more notes to talk about the intricate details of this book, but that possibly has to remain something for the future because I still was too lost to write plentiful annotations; still, this book was too dense for me to see outside the thick of bush. Still, it was too dense for me to not get lost in details, still too thick to give you an adequate overview.

There’s no argument to this book really. Unless, you accept “get lost and experience the world around you with new eyes” as an argument. This book is just an eye-opening journey of thought through the landscapes of North America. And that probably is the worst you could say about this book. It is at points very American. But then these are personal stories. The Author is American. An expectation of an un-american experience would to an extent be misguided.

Summary

I can only recommend you to get lost in this book, full well knowing that getting lost in this book might not be possible for every reader.

There’s a real chance you might get too lost at reading this book, and I won’t fault you for putting it down and never returning. This book isn’t for everyone. You need a tolerance for frustration for dense prose, for feelings of being lost and alone. But if you’re ready to accept these feelings, if you tolerate being frustrated, this book is a treasure. A wealth of nature to behold opens up before you if you manage to get lost in these experiences of home and of far away.

My last book review was about another essay collection. Gratitude by Oliver Sacks. And my next book review will very probably still be about Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter’s second entry in their Long Earth Series: The Long War.
If you like to, I would really appreciate your support on ko-fi. A few bucks help a long way and if you want to you can find some of my art on redbubble for sale as stickers and posters.

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