![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fictionalI've been in something of a funk lately.
I don't know why. There's no very good reason for it. But I suppose that's the way of funks.
I'm sure you guys all heard about this. I kept imagining the resulting discussion in high levels of government.
Deputy Chief of Staff: "Okay...You're not going to believe this, but we...uh...mailed some missile parts to Taiwan. By mistake."
Chief of Staff: "What?!!"
DCS: "Uh. Yeah."
CS: "WHAT?! How could we do that? Where were they supposed to go?"
DCS: "Yeah, I don't know. This happened four months ago."
CS: "AND WE'RE JUST FINDING OUT ABOUT THIS NOW???"
DCS: "Uh, yeah."
Cute Perky Blonde Assistant to Chief of Staff: "You guys never heard of UPS? They have online tracking and everything!"
...
CPBACS: "What? I'm just saying. I know where my packages are at all times."
Yeah. I've been watching a lot of The West Wing lately.
I also note that ham prices have gone up. And milk. And bread. And Ikea bookshelves. And tomatoes. Probably other stuff too, but that's what springs to mind. I almost wish I had hung on to more of my rupees when I got back from India. They might have come in handy during The End Times.
I've been reading a lot of Georgette Heyer.
In India, this past winter, I embarked on the Great Heyer Hunt. Even though a few of the Regencies have been reprinted by Harlequin (and man, is it embarrassing to whip out those on the subway! I always want to interject and tell people about the elegant prose, and awe-inspiring world building - like the very best fantasy novel), it's not nearly enough. So I thought bookstores in India would be my saviors - that's where I got the first of my Heyers. I was inspired to do so after reading the dedication to Sorcery & Cecilia - with company like that (Jane Austen, Ellen Kushner, J.R.R. Tolkien) I figured I should at least check out what I was missing. It was pretty much love at first sight - with a ragged copy of Sylvester or The Wicked Uncle.
This time, however, the used markets in Saketh betrayed me. I tried the actual bookstores in Greater Kailash. There was only a copy of The Nonesuch to be found. Then I got serious, and headed to the used bookstalls in College Street, Calcutta, and also on Gariahat Road, right before Gol Park.
Calcutta (I really refuse to change the spelling; I think these new fangled un-anglicized spellings are pretty ridiculous on their best days, but when it comes to a city that didn't even exist till the British got there it's beyond asinine.) Anyway. As I was saying, Calcutta differs from Delhi in that the used book sellers have, you know, actually read at least the titles of the books they are selling, and are alarmingly familiar with the contents of their stalls. So you walk up and tell them what you require, and they smile at you politely, and find it for you in an instant amongst these prodigiously high, precariously piled stacks of books with the spines all facing inwards, and jammed in there all higgledy-piggledy. It's quite fascinating.
Before many seconds had passed, I was famous on that street. Word went out through the stalls, heralding my coming like cavalry and trumpets, if cavalry and trumpets could be said to waft before me in utter, super secret silence, carried on some encrypted, bookseller frequency that other, less privileged folk could neither see nor hear nor parse. The news was out: this utterly mad Bengali girl with the Amreekan accent was there to buy all the Heyers, whatever they had. I'd get to a stall - they'd smile, and inform me that I was there to find la belle Georgette, and that sadly, they didn't have any. "People hang on to these nowadays, madam - they don't come to us. Very hard to find." You don't have to tell me, I'd reply. Then I found one: Powder and Patch. I was spurred on by this faint success. Hope was not yet lost - though electricity had been. I did not quail, however, but carried on...by candlelight. No, I'm not joking. They'd hold the candles up so I could examine the titles just in case they had overlooked something - a mental index to this bibliographic bazaar couldn't possibly be 100% accurate...could it? The manic look in my eyes must have been truly...inspiring.
And then, finally, on Oxford Street, booksellers by appointment to the governor general of India - or was it the viceroy? Whichever it was, it seemed fitting and haute tonnish! SUCCESS. I* bought thirteen of them - nearly got into a brawl with two ladies over a copy of The Talisman Ring. Needless to say, I won.
Sadly of course, they were mostly all finished by the time our plane touched down at JFK.
I think I've come to the end of the internets too. (I should share the fruits of my labours, it occurs to me - since I think I've now read every piece of Heyer fanfic currently extant on the web. I'll maybe post a reclist sometime soon.)
I need new things to read. I'll be done with Cassie Clare's City of Ashes soon; it's pretty much as compulsively readable as the first, and now I need more. What's next??? Suggestions? Comedy of manners? Fantasy of manners? Something mind-eat-y and escapist. If you please?
*faris_nallaneen informs me that since she carried many of them (and paid for at least half, if not more) the proper pronoun here should be "we." The brawl, however, was all me.
I don't know why. There's no very good reason for it. But I suppose that's the way of funks.
I'm sure you guys all heard about this. I kept imagining the resulting discussion in high levels of government.
Deputy Chief of Staff: "Okay...You're not going to believe this, but we...uh...mailed some missile parts to Taiwan. By mistake."
Chief of Staff: "What?!!"
DCS: "Uh. Yeah."
CS: "WHAT?! How could we do that? Where were they supposed to go?"
DCS: "Yeah, I don't know. This happened four months ago."
CS: "AND WE'RE JUST FINDING OUT ABOUT THIS NOW???"
DCS: "Uh, yeah."
Cute Perky Blonde Assistant to Chief of Staff: "You guys never heard of UPS? They have online tracking and everything!"
...
CPBACS: "What? I'm just saying. I know where my packages are at all times."
Yeah. I've been watching a lot of The West Wing lately.
I also note that ham prices have gone up. And milk. And bread. And Ikea bookshelves. And tomatoes. Probably other stuff too, but that's what springs to mind. I almost wish I had hung on to more of my rupees when I got back from India. They might have come in handy during The End Times.
I've been reading a lot of Georgette Heyer.
In India, this past winter, I embarked on the Great Heyer Hunt. Even though a few of the Regencies have been reprinted by Harlequin (and man, is it embarrassing to whip out those on the subway! I always want to interject and tell people about the elegant prose, and awe-inspiring world building - like the very best fantasy novel), it's not nearly enough. So I thought bookstores in India would be my saviors - that's where I got the first of my Heyers. I was inspired to do so after reading the dedication to Sorcery & Cecilia - with company like that (Jane Austen, Ellen Kushner, J.R.R. Tolkien) I figured I should at least check out what I was missing. It was pretty much love at first sight - with a ragged copy of Sylvester or The Wicked Uncle.
This time, however, the used markets in Saketh betrayed me. I tried the actual bookstores in Greater Kailash. There was only a copy of The Nonesuch to be found. Then I got serious, and headed to the used bookstalls in College Street, Calcutta, and also on Gariahat Road, right before Gol Park.
Calcutta (I really refuse to change the spelling; I think these new fangled un-anglicized spellings are pretty ridiculous on their best days, but when it comes to a city that didn't even exist till the British got there it's beyond asinine.) Anyway. As I was saying, Calcutta differs from Delhi in that the used book sellers have, you know, actually read at least the titles of the books they are selling, and are alarmingly familiar with the contents of their stalls. So you walk up and tell them what you require, and they smile at you politely, and find it for you in an instant amongst these prodigiously high, precariously piled stacks of books with the spines all facing inwards, and jammed in there all higgledy-piggledy. It's quite fascinating.
Before many seconds had passed, I was famous on that street. Word went out through the stalls, heralding my coming like cavalry and trumpets, if cavalry and trumpets could be said to waft before me in utter, super secret silence, carried on some encrypted, bookseller frequency that other, less privileged folk could neither see nor hear nor parse. The news was out: this utterly mad Bengali girl with the Amreekan accent was there to buy all the Heyers, whatever they had. I'd get to a stall - they'd smile, and inform me that I was there to find la belle Georgette, and that sadly, they didn't have any. "People hang on to these nowadays, madam - they don't come to us. Very hard to find." You don't have to tell me, I'd reply. Then I found one: Powder and Patch. I was spurred on by this faint success. Hope was not yet lost - though electricity had been. I did not quail, however, but carried on...by candlelight. No, I'm not joking. They'd hold the candles up so I could examine the titles just in case they had overlooked something - a mental index to this bibliographic bazaar couldn't possibly be 100% accurate...could it? The manic look in my eyes must have been truly...inspiring.
And then, finally, on Oxford Street, booksellers by appointment to the governor general of India - or was it the viceroy? Whichever it was, it seemed fitting and haute tonnish! SUCCESS. I* bought thirteen of them - nearly got into a brawl with two ladies over a copy of The Talisman Ring. Needless to say, I won.
Sadly of course, they were mostly all finished by the time our plane touched down at JFK.
I think I've come to the end of the internets too. (I should share the fruits of my labours, it occurs to me - since I think I've now read every piece of Heyer fanfic currently extant on the web. I'll maybe post a reclist sometime soon.)
I need new things to read. I'll be done with Cassie Clare's City of Ashes soon; it's pretty much as compulsively readable as the first, and now I need more. What's next??? Suggestions? Comedy of manners? Fantasy of manners? Something mind-eat-y and escapist. If you please?
*
faris_nallaneen informs me that since she carried many of them (and paid for at least half, if not more) the proper pronoun here should be "we." The brawl, however, was all me.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-28 01:37 pm (UTC)I am sorry you are still in a funk. I will continue to deluge you with random email about Arkady and our blasphemous world until you emerge, at which point I will also conrinue to do so, just probably with a response.
But seriously, this post is awesome.
What do people in India think about this naming thing?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-28 06:05 pm (UTC)Email much appreciated. I'm sure I'll come out of this soon. I hope.
Another mostly sleepless night - although the conclusion was interesting. I dreamt we were leaving the museum loaded down with luggage - you even had a pet dog (a chiuhuahua?) and other miscellaneous items. I told you to hail a cab; we both got into it; the taxi driver offered to drive us for free; then suddenly we were driving along unfamiliar roads! We tried to get out, but couldn't take the luggage with us...it gets complicated after that, but there was assault of some kind, and crazed stalker logic, and a weird Shakespearean family (I think it was the stalker's family.)
WHAT DOES IT MEAN????
About the naming thing: I don't know, actually! But they're originating it, so some of them at least must think it's about throwing off the bonds of the Oppressor or some such. Myself, I think it's about attempting to pretend certain regrettable parts of your history...just, you know, didn't happen. Which is foolish beyond permission. Own it, I say.
I'll ask my cousins what they think. My father thinks it's idiotic, but I don't suppose that's a fair sampling. ;-)
Heyer
Date: 2008-03-28 02:01 pm (UTC)Re: Heyer
Date: 2008-03-28 06:08 pm (UTC).
Date: 2008-03-28 06:18 pm (UTC)My wife likes Regencies and she keeps a database of all the ones she's read - with her comments and ratings. She seems to have an encyclopedic understanding of the whole scene which, sadly, is collapsing as a genre. Very new ones come out each month, a far cry from the large number from various publishers that used to appear on a constant basis. She copes with this decline by tracking down work from the best authors using abebooks. We have to go to a few really crappy used bookstores (there's one in the Haight which is truly a nightmare), just for their dependable offerings of used Regencies. My wife will also buy multiple copies of rare, really well written Regencies if she finds them cheaply, because she's afraid they may be lost if she doesn't. Consequently, we have one huge custom-made bookshelf in our home which is mostly filled with her Regencies.
My wife's biggest complaint are Regencies in which the author has confused the title system. A few minor mistakes won't kill it, but I have seen her throw one across the room when it gets to be too much.
Re: .
Date: 2008-03-28 08:17 pm (UTC)I know a lot of people who read Heyer "because Miss Austen only wrote six novels." One of my advisors, who is an Austen "Authority" does this. For me though, Heyer is very different, and scratches a slightly different itch. Austen writes beautifully acerbic social commentary; Heyer is actually building a world, which while wonderfully researched is still very much a fantasy. What they do have in common, and what I find profoundly lacking in most Regency romances, is an original sense of humour. They are both really witty, although again, in very different ways.
I find the genre of Regency Romance particularly interesting because of the way they all play with this fictionalized never-never land somewhere between 1790 and 1810. It is truly tragic that this genre is disappearing; I also don't understand why it is, when Austen and Napoleonic-era stuff is experiencing such a revival in popular culture.
I have to say my biggest complaint are the weird American anachronisms that proliferate in the genre! I know Heyer's language wasn't a 100% accurate either (she was really using a lot of Edwardian era tropes in a regency setting) but at the same time, she really seems to be inventing a new language and a new world - that fits! There's nothing more off putting than an endearment that rightfully belongs in the pages of some 1980s harlequin with a ranchhand and a secretary, or just a purely American, modern cadence.
I've actually also started to read silverfork novels as well; they are the "regency romance" of the actual regency - unlike Miss Austen who didn't usually pepper her novels with descriptions of wealth, and high end nobility. Your wife might enjoy some of them also. At least they usually get the peerage right. ;-)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-29 03:51 am (UTC)I did get your emails and will reply when I am in less of a haze from dissertation draft deadlines and conference organizing. Sorry.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-29 04:33 pm (UTC)