Hephaistion

As with Yukio Mishima's sequel to Spring Snow, I am bitterly disappointed with Mary Renault's sequel to Fire From Heaven. The Persian Boy is written in first person, of the boy Bagoas. Whom Alexander took a liking to. I despise Bagoas for Hephaistion's sake. It's been a while since I care to detest any character in any book. But for Hephaistion, who's mantra for his beloved Alexander "Anything he needs, he must have." Hephaistion whom had been by Alexander's side since boyhood. Hephaistion, the Patroklus to Alexander's Achilles.

All I do as I read The Persian Boy is skim every page for mentions of Hephaistion. I could care less for Alexander now. Bagoas's jealousy give me mirth and indignation. Can't wait for Hephaistion to die, only to see Alexander lose his wits and then to read of Alexander's own death and be done with it all.

The last of the Alexander trilogy as with Mishima's teratology, I will likely put off. For there is no Hephaistion nor Alexander in it. The last book is of what ensued after Alexander's death. The power struggle. For being taken with Bagoas, I have dismissed Alexander from my graces. Golden one, you who continually shape Hephaistion's heart. How dare you. So why should I care for it then, the last book. Instead, I'll re-attempt The Iliad and then after it, The Odyssey. 

*sigh* This is me glorifying loyalty and Homeric love and being way too invested in quasi-fictional works.

Goodbye, Alexias

If last year I found Mishima's Spring Snow, this year I found Mary Renault's The Last of the Wine. These two books are very dear to me. They are beautiful.

The Sea of Fertility: Book 2

"His old age shone with cheerful detachment, like the winter sun shining through white paper stretched over a latticework of fine, aged wood, not in the least warped, beyond which patches of snow lay here and there on the ground."
                                                                       

                                                                                            ~ Runaway Horses, Yukio Mishima

Now, this is how a real author writes. Only a true artist could see this beauty. The words come easy when one can see beauty. When one do not see it, there is no helping it.

SS #3

I am overly critical of things. I read another page of SS and my whole conviction's been unseated from me as if  a rug pulled from beneath my feet.

Perhaps there's nothing to it after all. I shouldn't worry about my well-being in relations to it (other darker concerns shadow that anxiety).

I shall write of it no more. Save one, once I am done.

.

SS #1

One reads of a lover's rapture having the other return their passions thus achieving her desires, then one reads of the friend's repose having pacified the other by relinquishing his own desire.

I love that Mishima chooses to juxtapose the two. One puts Kiyoaki in a position of counterpoise (over Satoko) while the other in a position of equipoise (with Shigekuni).

P.S. While I'm on the subject of Spring Snow, let's just mention that I adore the scene on pages 9 - 10. I adore it equally as much as the scene I've just ranted about above (chapters 12 - 13).

Spring Snow

I can't believe I've let it sit on my shelf unread for about a year. I am quite in love with it.

Godlessness

When reading, I tire of the philosophy of the godless. 

I admire the pretty sentences, sometimes. But the message conveyed, the 'meaning' is no longer lost on me. I was confused, I did not (do not still) know enough to understand that these 'principles' they moan / preach of are but borned of man's inevitable hopelessness. 

There are isolated gems somewhere in their meandering writings that can be taken to heart. Absolutely. Al-ghazali did mention in the ihya something about not dismissing truths (for they are self-manifest) even if they come from the mind of one in 'error'. But when forced to wade through the swamp of godlessness just to stumble over said gems, I lack the fortitude for it these days.

Oh but I do admire pretty sentences, it's just in my nature. Sometimes they just stick to my mind. E.g.

"Angry, and half in love with her, and tremendously sorry, I turned away."

                                                                                 

                                                                           The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

I probably have a thing for Nick Carraway. He's like Charles Ryder in Waugh's Brideshead. The initially seemingly naive, closet romantic, somewhat distant, verging on heartless, outsider observer. I like spectator characters. I can relate with them. They always end up tragically disillusioned. Helplessly they let themselves be enamoured by a glamorous character whom they are keenly aware of being broken / vulnerable. They hitch a ride, things are rosy and perfect for a while. Then disaster strikes and they come to full realization of these characters's flaws, how they actually willingly poison themselves. Then they leave, carrying a mark in their hearts, having sold a piece of their soul. Quietly slinking back into reality, moderate and a little older.

So human. Lovely. Yes. I like those kind of books more perhaps. They treat the characters unaplogetically but tenderly, humanely. It's got to do with the authors bottom line I guess. I can't stand Kundera. Or Sartre. Or Palahniuk (not anymore phew). Or Plath (for more personal reasons than anything perhaps). Kerouac though, he's special. He's the spectator outsider but he's really writing about himself. If he wasn't so neurotic I'd probably like On the Road a lot more.

Meh. Just give me a good ol children's paperback and I'd be contented. I'd rather read of innocence  at the moment. Besides I've got Star Wars on my mind anyway.

Le Morte d'Arthur

       So, I've been going through a few books about King Arthur & his knights of the round table, specifically to investigate how Arthur's death really went down (Yes I have a couple of books on the Arthurian legend, which I inherited from my brother. He likes em'). 

From what I've read, coupled with the things I read on the internet, there are two traditions of Arthur's disappearace, the "not dead, not really" and the "dead, definitely". 

Both begins with the last battle against the Saxons, where Arthur slays the traitor knight, Sir Mordred, and had Excalibur thrown into The Lake which surrounds the Isle of Avalon then:

1.Was put into a barge, released into The Lake and disappears into the Vale of Avalon, where he intends to be healed and will return if and when he's needed.

He said this to Sir Bedrivere*:

"Comfort yourself," answered King Arthur, "and do as best as you may. For you remain to bear word of me to those who are yet alive. For I must go into the Vale of Avalon there to be healed of my grevious wound. But be you sure that I will come again when the land of Britain has need of me, and the realm of Logres shall rise once more out of the darkness. But if you hear never more of me, pray for my soul.'   

I got this particular excerpt from Roger Lancelyn Green's version. Some versions also mentions Arthur waiting in a cave on the Isle of Avalon.

2. Arthur dies in battle. End of story. Read on the internet that this version of Arthur's death came about later than the versions of him not dying. 

3. There's also another version that says Arthur turns into a raven or this other black bird, the Cornish Chough. Read on the internet that in Wales and the West Country (south west region of England), Ravens are viewed as a royal bird. 

*sigh* so, he pretty much disappears at the end. I like that the Merlin BBC tv show is a modern retelling of the Arthurian legend. A young Merlin, his dynamics with a coming of age Arthur made the stories more relatable to my generation. 

       Ah, ignore me. I'm just really really sad that Arthur died and wants a happy ending for the show. It's just so tragic. Romeo & Juliet tragic, the way I see it. I hate-love sad endings. I just suffered through BBC Sherlock's fake suicide & House MD's version of the fake suicide (the show's homage to its Sherlock Holmes roots, you know, Doyle's The Reichenbach Falls - in which Doyle kills off Holmes along with his nemesis Moriarty but later resurrects Holmes due to public demand) not that it matters much because Wilson got cancer and was dying anyway though they have the courtesy to give the fans a semi-happy ending compromise by showing House and Wilson riding off into the sunset on motorbikes, Wilson's bucket list, road trip. Yeah, I've a terrible soft spot for bromances. Friendship is better than romance. I am now teetering on the edge of this turning into a tumblr post...

You know what, this post totally belongs on tumblr, not here but thing is, tumblr is a minefield at the moment. Gifs of the last episode all over the place. So here I am, posting this here.

I'm a fangirl in mourning is what I am. I have a metaphorical shard of metal from a metaphorical sword forged with dragon's breath in my chest. Direct Merlin reference for you right there. I think I need to pen a poem, to weep into words and hope it will ease my sorrowful heart. 

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*Sir Bedivere - more about him here. Wiki page lol. He's pretty interesting himself.