(no subject)

[crantz]

I finished The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke tonight. And it's actually my second reading of the book, but the experience was pretty much the same. Rocketing through it because it's hard to put down once you get started, and just being completely satisfied by the whole thing. Only two parts stick out to me at the end that cause consternation:

1. WHO was the thief that Scipio was taking credit for? Someone was pulling off daring heists that is never mentioned again.


2. I worry about Riccio. I think Mosca will be okay, but I worry about Riccio.

So I've moved onto another fine literary location, The Hundred Acre Woods. I'm learning that old, light-hearted writing is my catnip. Jeeves and Wooster, Winnie-the-Pooh, the Oz books, etc. Narnia too.

This story is from Chapter 1, IN WHICH A HOUSE IS BUILT AT POOH CORNER FOR EEYORE. It has been snowing terribly and Pooh is feeling thoughtful.

"I've been thinking," said Pooh, "and what I've been thinking is this. I've been thinking about Eeyore."
"What about Eeyore?"
"Well, poor Eeyore has nowhere to live."
"Nor he has," said Piglet.
"You have a house, Piglet, and I have a house, and they are very good houses. And Christopher Robin has a house, and Owl and Kanga and Rabbit have houses, and even Rabbit's friends and relations have houses or somethings, but poor Eeyore has nothing. So what I've been thinking is: Let's build him a house."
"That," said Piglet, "is a Grand Idea. Where shall we build it?"
"We will build it here," said Pooh, "just by this wood, out of the wind, because this is where I thought of it. And we will call this Pooh Corner. And we will build an Eeyore House with sticks at Pooh Corner for Eeyore."
"There was a heap of sticks on the other side of the wood," said Piglet. "I saw them. Lots and lots. All piled up."
"Thank you, Piglet," said Pooh. "What you have just said will be a Great Help to us, and because of it I could call this place Poohanpiglet Corner if Pooh Corner didn't sound better, which it does, being smaller and more like a corner. Come along."


-The House At Pooh Corner by A. A. Milne

Meanwhile, from this same story as Eeyore relates a great sadness to Christopher Robin is my favourite set of illustrations of the day:





This book is only 79 pages so I expect I'll be moving onto a new location soon. Might be Narnia again, or Oz (because I want to see Ozma's adventures and see how she's dealing with not being a boy anymore). Something I have digitally because I did not enjoy lugging around a paper book I was always terrified was gonna get all smushed up in my bag.

Comments

[gloss]

You have made me *desperate* to read Thief Lord.

♥ &EEYORE;! ♥

[crantz]

Eeyore is both the most adorable and the most irritating resident in the Wood.

I hope I haven't overhyped it! It's just a nice, solid kids book. Cornelia Funke knows her stuff.

[gloss]

No, no, don't fear - a nice, solid kid's book is exactly what I'm in the mood for. I recently finished a reread of the Ramona Quimby books, actually.

Eeyore is such a dick, and yet I overidentify with him like whoa. <3

[crantz]

Christopher Robin had spent the morning indoors going to Africa and back, and he had just got off the boat and was wondering what it was like outside, when who should come knocking at the door but Eeyore.
"Hallo, Eeyore," said Christopher Robin, as he opened the door and came out. "How are you?"
"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily.
"So it is."
"And freezing."
"Is it?"
"Yes," said Eeyore. "However," he said, brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately."
"What's the matter, Eeyore?"
"Nothing, Christopher Robin. Nothing important. I suppose you haven't seen a house or what-not anywhere about?"
"What sort of a house?"
"Just a house."
"Who lives there?"
"I do. At least I thought I did. But I suppose I don't. After all, we can't all have houses."
"But, Eeyore, I didn't know-I always thought-"
"I don't know how it is, Christopher Robin, but what with all this snow and one thing and another, not to mention icicles and such-like, it isn't so Hot in my field about three o'clock in the morning as some people think it is. It isn't Close, if you know what I mean-not so as to be uncomfortable. It isn't Stuffy. In fact, Christopher Robin," he went on in a loud whisper, "quite-between-ourselves-and- don't-tell-anybody, it's Cold."
"Oh, Eeyore!"
"And I said to myself: The others will be sorry if I'm getting myself all cold. They haven't got Brains, any of them, only grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake, and they don't Think, but if it goes on snowing for another six weeks or so, one of them will begin to say to himself: 'Eeyore can't be so very much too Hot about three o'clock in the morning. ' And then it will Get About. And they'll be Sorry."
"Oh, Eeyore!" said Christopher Robin, feeling very sorry already.

Yes, yes he is.

Oh man, I remember reading those as a kid! It wasn't until years later I found out what virgin meant and was all 'OH!' over a plotpoint in one of the books.