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fatehbaz · 1 year

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“Many years ago,” began a story in a Singapore-based newspaper in 1899, “it used to be customary to transport convicts from India to this Colony.” That article profiled a courthouse scene of fisticuffs between two old men. According to the newspaper, these two ex-convicts opted “to settle their slight differences” with violence, resulting in the “junior” of the pair having “both his arms broken.” [...] Amused by the scene, the writer cast these men as relics from another time.

Convicts from South Asia were once a conspicuous presence in Southeast Asia, their handiwork visible everywhere, particularly in the built environment of Singapore.

In the twenty-first century, public acknowledgment of their achievements barely exists, elided by many in the Indian community who would rather not trace their origins to convict ancestors and erased by postcolonial governments that would rather not see their shining cities and states shaped by coerced labor. As for the roads, bridges, and buildings constructed by “servants” of the East India Company, as Indian convicts understood themselves, many have been leveled to make room for new monuments.

Convicts had a significant role in forging empires across the world. Penal transportation was a key strategy of British imperial rule, notably in the case of Australia, from the eighteenth century onward. However, the British also established penal settlements in Southeast Asia where they sent women and men from South Asia convicted of heinous crimes, including political offenses. [...]

Empire of Convicts: Indian Penal Labor in Colonial Southeast Asia tells the stories of convicts journeying across kala pani (black waters) and making their homes in Bengkulu, Penang, and Singapore, where they served extended sentences.

Despite finding themselves in novel and precarious situations, many prisoners exercised considerable agency and resisted colonial authorities, in some cases even becoming “their own warders.” Such are the tales of Fateh Khan of Banaras who emerged as the sahib and leader of the Indian convicts and soldiers in Bengkulu or Jallia who escaped from Penang and made his way back home to Gujarat or the many women and men who labored in Singapore for decades and never returned to India.

Political prisoners from South Asia lived alongside other convicts in the insular prisons of Southeast Asia. My book’s cover features the belongings of the Sikh rebel, Bhai Maharaj Singh, who fought the British in India and was held captive in Singapore in the early 1850s. These objects -- a conch shell, a finger ring, a knife, two steel quoits, a sewing needle and thread, and a religious text -- attest to persons and things dispersed across an Indian Ocean world. Empire of Convicts serves as a counterpart to well-known stories of law, crime, punishment, and prisons, and to an ongoing story of prisoners, particularly in the United States, being used for their labor and exploited by racist structures in liberal democracies.

---

All text above by: Anand A. Yang. “Forgotten Histories of Indian Convicts in Colonial Southeast Asia.” UC Press Blog (published by University of California Press). 22 January 2021. [Some paragraph breaks added by me. Image shows a portion of the cover of Yang’s book.]

#abolition #ecology #colonial #imperial

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autumnslance · 2 years

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Prompt #10: Channel

So many people thought C’oretta simply couldn’t focus.

And to be fair on most days that was true; there was always something new and interesting to see, to do, to catch one’s attention. Life never stopped moving so why should she?

Focus took effort and it wasn’t worth expending that every single day for common normal things. Much better to save it for the big stuff.

Like learning to fight. Though once she got good enough at that she didn’t have to focus quite so hard as the forms and motions became second nature and allowed her mind to wander once more with her eyes catching what others did not right away.

Besides her Echo was pretty good about pinging her to danger she had to move from right now. She trusted it more than trying to pay attention to only one thing at a time.

Magic was much more deserving of her attention and there was always something new to learn and it was always complicated enough to warrant her full focus though it left her pretty wiped out after.

Still it was a lot of fun and handy in many cases.

“Coretta!”

Like now. Her attention snapped back to the battle at hand. The waves of beasts seemed endless due to being fueled by the fears and despair of the people they had once been and triggering more transformations as others saw and lost hope.

Her eyes darted around the snowy grounds. Dark and Ioh’juhn were fighting one massive demon-looking thing while Erick held his ground against another but Meya was tapped and Lennier was seeing to Minti’s injuries and the Ishgard Squad was nowhere in sight (though she was pretty sure she could hear Mathye cursing in the woodline) and the Scions were busy and the civilians they were trying to protect were still screaming…

C’oretta dashed to the edge of the clearing and hooked both of her quoits to one side of her belt. She reached for her book on her other hip while tapping into her blue soul crystal.

“C’mon Selene wake up we’ve got work to do a lot’s happening.”

The fairy burst forth with a warm light that always made C’oretta smile. She dashed back into the fray channeling her aether now to defend. Sanctify the ground her friends fought upon drawing on the land’s own strength to bolster them while giving more aether to her fairy changing her form to give a further boost and by the way tether to Erick to keep him fighting and there was their Ishgardian quartet chasing some nasty bird thing with way too many faces.

C’oretta did the familiar calculations nearly instantly to execute the stratagem and ensured Reinhardt’s aim was more than true as he came down on the thing’s back.

She had to pay attention to everyone and everything this way but that was part of the thrill. To force her mind into certain channels and manage complicated mathematics on the fly while managing a fairy and keeping everyone alive and her Echo sense said move so she did.

It was hard and she’d pay for it tomorrow but for now she laughed as she dodged some creepy monster’s attack with a dancer’s grace while broiling its insides.

C’oretta could focus. She just had to have a good reason to do so for the brief time that she was able and fighting alongside her friends in the snow-covered fields of Garlemald as the Final Days ate their world certainly counted.

#FFXIVWrite2022 #Final Fantasy XIV #Lyn Writing #Endwalker #Garlemald #The Final Days #C'oretta Khell #ended up writing it like how she speaks/thinks #on the meta level channeling C'oretta for stories is always an exhausting treat

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micah-pl · 1 year

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IDW Overlord and IDW Tarn, both those guys are super crazy gay. TFP Optimus and him quoiting the same line in the books ("journeys end in lovers meeting") that's pretty gay; it took drugged up Ratchet giving him a lecture for Optimus to realize that he needs to stop trying to fulfill his enemies to lovers fantasy. Megatron is over here making all the guys gay.

Very good point tho tfp Optimus was already nominated ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌ and so was Tarn

But Overlord is new

#Transformers gayest robot poll #GAYBOT SHOWDOWN #maccadam

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mccallofthewild · 1 year

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92 (human Kinthos + whoever wants him)

[92]

@asterxles

Romance novels were something a guilty pleasure of Jordan's. And none were as good as those penned by Kinthos Quoits. So imagine his shock when he recognized the man's face from the back covers of the many books he'd read by him. He sat at the bar next to Kinthos and started up a conversation with him. Come light flirting and a few drinks later, Kinthos invited him over to read some of his most recent manuscript, which Jordan happily took him up on. Of course, Jordan really didn't think that there would be much reading happening. He was surprisingly wrong about it at first. Kinthos really did want to talk more. Jordan was happy to oblige his favorite author, but his balls were already turning blue from the expectation that he had perhaps invented. Eventually, Jordan just had to go for it.

He kissed Kinthos. When he was lucky enough for Kinthos to start kissing back, he picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, deciding to be very clear about what he wanted. Apparently, Kinthos was very much okay with the idea of shedding their clothes and getting down to the real business. Which right now was feeding his cock to the pretty author as he pinned him to the bed. "That's it. You're doing so good. Keep sucking. You can take all of it. I know you can. Don't give up on me."

#asterxles

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coloursofunison · 1 year

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I'm welcoming Siobhan Daiko and her new book, The Flame Tree to the blog today #blogtour

I'm welcoming Siobhan Daiko and her new book, The Flame Tree to the blog today #blogtour @rararesources @siobhandaiko @siobhan.daiko @siobhandaiko_asoloandobooks

Here’s the blurb Based on a little-known true story, from award-winning author Siobhan Daiko comes a tale of love and survival against all the odds set in Hong Kong at the start of the Pacific War. In the spring of 1939, dashing young William Burton and the beautiful Constance Han set sail from London on the same ocean liner to Hong Kong. Romance blossoms while they enjoy games of deck quoits…

View On WordPress

#Amazon #Blog Tour #historical fiction #New Release #Rachel&039;s Random Resources #Siobhan Daiko #The Flame Tree

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fosobebilu · 2 years

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Amelia crib assembly notice mode d'emploi

AMELIA CRIB ASSEMBLY NOTICE MODE D'EMPLOI >>Telecharger vk.cc/c7jKeU

AMELIA CRIB ASSEMBLY NOTICE MODE D'EMPLOI >> Lire en ligne bit.do/fSmfG

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irrfahrer · 4 years

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“Never fear the darkness. The strongest trees are rooted in the dark places of the earth. Darkness will be your cloak, your shield, your mother’s milk. Darkness will make you strong.”

–Bloodraven ADWD Brann III

#I👏THINK👏ITS👏A👏GOOD👏TIME 👏TO👏REMEMBER👏THAT👏50%👏OF👏ZIVS👏ABILITIES👏ARE👏BASED👏ON👏SITHALCHEMY #finally found this fuckin quoite in original english goddammit #was neede don this blog #I only read the german books so I was searchng #GRRM #G R R MARTIN #ASOIAF #V: Laestrygonian #V: Odyssee #inspiration

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words-and-coffee · 4 months

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I will vanish in the morning light; I was only an invention of darkness.

Angela Carter, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories; from The Lady of the House of Love

#Angela Carter #The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories #quote #quotes #lit #literature #book #book quote #book quoites #The Lady of the House of Love #lit quote #lit quotes #literature quote #literature quotes

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randomitemdrop · 3 years

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Table of Skills, Abilities, and Proficiencies

Unicycle

Conlang creation

Origami

Advanced calculus

Spreadsheets

Robert’s Rules of Order

MLA format

Hibachi grill

Knot-tying

Bowling

Ham curing

Hamboning

Underwater basket-weaving

Coin-minting tools

Pogo stick

Genealogy

Victorian fan code

Forklift certification

Wig-making

Arranging and designing shrubberies

Resin-casting

Ice sculpture

Butter-carving

Pickling

Taxidermy

Microbrewing

Snooty wine appreciation

Snooty high-end liquor appreciation

Snooty pipeweed appreciation

Acupuncture

Crystal healing

Graphic design

Fancy coffee making

Pancake art

Cappuccino foam art

Loxian (language created by Enya for her song lyrics)

Arcade claw game

Insult swordfighting

Stilts

Bocce

Mumblety-peg

Dressage (not necessarily horses)

Stain removal

Yodeling

Canary Island Whistle Language

Yo-yo (tricks)

Yo-yo (combat) (just pretend the source says it’s true)

Palmistry

Astrology

Tea-leaf reading

Cromniomancy

Phrenology

Calligraphy

Card tricks

Making cakes that look like things

Billiards

Jam-making

Nail art

Idol-making

Caricatures

Plate-spinning

Truffle-hunting

Rock-balancing

Cup-stacking

Ribbon-dancing

Ghost-hunting

Finger-boarding

Parfilage

Balloon-animal-making

Scrimshaw

Book-binding

Art history

Tap dancing

Penny-farthing bicycle

Devil-sticks

Subbuteo

Paintball

Identifying rocks and stones

Ethnomusicology

Mime

Makeup

Performative flatulism

Flair bartending

Event planning

Double-talk (the art of speaking gibberish that sounds convincingly like a foreign language)

Ear-candling

Ear-pulling

Greasy-pole-climbing

Cheese-rolling

Shin-kicking

Caber-tossing

Competitive beard-styling

Morris-dancing

Dwile-flonking

Quoits

Aromatherapy

Pole-dancing

Guessing how many jellybeans are in a jar

Birdcall identification

Laser tag

#feats or skills or abilities or whatever #tables #d100

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ghaniblue · 3 years

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The Problem with Non-Euclidean Geometry

written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt Parallel. Thanks to @hbee and @mystisblom for telling me this made sense. | 1.2k of angst. Someone ban me from Wikipedia. | also on AO3

Two straight lines in a plane that do not intersect at any point are said to be parallel.

∥

'Malfoy heir disappeared without a trace!' the headline in the Prophet read. Draco leaned over Harry's shoulder and scoffed. "They really could've chosen a more flattering picture."

Draco reached for Harry's cup of tea like always but his fingers never touched the ceramic.

∥

Harry spread out the map on their kitchen table in Grimmauld Place. There were cross marks and scribbled circles all over the place.

"What about this one?" Draco asked, peering at a note that said 'talk to the proprietor'. "I don't remember visiting this store." Harry underlined something in his notebook about Trerice House in Kestell. So that was good, Harry was getting closer to fixing this. "Don't forget to look through my notes in the study. You know I write everything down. And talk to Hermione."

∥

"We should've come here together," Draco said, looking up the path that led toward the Zennor Quoit, at the green farmland and blooming purple heather. "It's quite lovely, don't you think?"

Draco turned around when Harry did not appear next to him. Hunched over his notebook, Harry had no eyes for the beauty of Cornwall in summer. Trerice House had not offered the answers they had hoped. If they had come here together, maybe Draco would not be in this mess. Or, maybe they'd both be stuck now. No, Draco admonished himself, Harry needed to stay unstuck. Draco was still learning to be less selfish. He was a work in progress, as he used to tell Harry all the time.

∥

Hermione, Ron and Harry had their heads bent together over Harry's notes. Now and then Hermione referenced something in a battered edition of Spellman's Syllabary. The kitchen table was covered in books, Muggle and Wizarding: The Thirteen Books of Euclid's Elements (Draco's), the latest of Lukas Karuzos' Arithmancy books (Hermione's), Ley Lines and Cream Tea, and Apparition and the Problem of Infinity (both Draco's). "What does parallel pros—postulate mean?" Ron asked, his face scrunched up.

Draco was pacing behind them; back and forth, back and forth. "I don't want to tell you how to do this," Draco declared—he was lying, of course; he was getting rather agitated about how long it took to fix this pickle he had found himself in—"but Euclid is not the answer." Nobody paid him any mind. Draco threw up his hands. "He is the problem! It's all in my notes, don't you see? Infinity! We need to find the horizon!" Nobody answered.

∥

Harry sat at their kitchen table with his notebook open in front of him. Now and then he consulted the map, made a note and went back to reading and re-reading his notebook. His eyes were bloodshot and his face had started disappearing underneath his beard sometime three months ago. He needed a haircut.

"It's alright, darling, go to sleep," Draco said. "I'm right here."

∥

Ron kept staggering against the wall. Harry might not look like much, but he weighed a ton. Especially when his own two feet were no help keeping him upright like now.

"I hate this," Draco complained, following them up the stairs. He could hear the sound of bottles being vanished by Hermione: clink-clink from the parlour and kitchen and back garden. Draco hoped she knew some teetotaler protection wards for the house. "I don't know how to help him," he confided to Ron.

∥

Molly bellowed for Charlie to hurry up and come downstairs and help put up the Christmas tree. "Take care of him for me?" Draco asked, but he already knew she would.

Hermione and Harry sat in front of the fireplace, his head on Hermione's shoulder. Draco settled down next to her. "You are the smartest person I know," he began, "so you already know he will not ask for anything. You have to promise me to make him ask for what he needs. Promise me." Hermione took Harry's hand and squeezed. "Good." Draco nodded. "That's decided then."

∥

Draco crouched on the ground next to Harry. It was a beautiful day for February in Wiltshire, with crisp clear air and a bright blue sky. It had even snowed last night. "I did not expect so many people to come, " Draco said, fingers tracing a particularly lovely wreath of camellia. "It was rather nice, all things considered."

Draco was lying. He never wanted to see Mother cry ever again.

∥

Draco's robes were laid out on the bed next to his shirts and waistcoats. "Maybe you could donate them," Hermione offered, her voice careful.

"Yes," Harry said, his fingers tracing the leaf pattern of an emerald-green waistcoat with silver thread. It was Draco's favourite. "Maybe." Draco did not look, he was resolutely staring out the window.

∥

Harry hugged Ron outside the Leaky. "That's brilliant. I'm so happy for you two." Draco watched Harry's face. It's been so long since he's seen Harry smile.

"Don't tell Hermione I blabbed." Ron laughed. "She'll kill me."

∥

It was just a blink, not even a look, really; but Draco's eyes followed the man weaving his way towards the bar anyway. He was tall, slender and blond. Draco looked at Harry who was frowning into his beer.

Draco swallowed hard. He could do this, for Harry he could be generous and selfless. "You're allowed," Draco whispered across the table, even though his insides felt all twisted up. "Darling, it's alright."

∥

Draco watched in fascination as the dark lines appeared on Harry's skin. Ron was with them, looking slightly queasy with the procedure but here nevertheless. Charlie ran his wand over Harry's wrist once more and muttered another spell. The air seemed to shimmer over the new tattoo before sinking like mist into the skin.

Silver grey ley lines bisected by parallel lines meeting at the horizon, one red one green.

∥

Harry lay curled up in their bed, on his side of the bed, with his glasses and a book which Draco had talked Harry into reading two years ago on the side table. The bookmark was perennially stuck at page 78. At the rate Harry was going, he would need infinity to finish it. That was alright with Draco. Draco had nothing but time now. Harry's brow was creased and he fidgeted like he couldn't get comfortable. He had always been a restless sleeper, twisting up the sheets or waking Draco up in the middle of the night with indistinct mutterings that sounded far too close to pleas.

Draco lay down next to Harry, on his side of the bed, and watched. Harry was clutching a pillow to his chest, Draco's pillow. Draco reached out a hand across the divide. "I miss you, too."

∥

Two straight lines in a plane that do not intersect at any point are said to be parallel. Why then do parallel lines meet at infinity?

#drarrymicrofic #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #drarry microfic #acari writes

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honorhearted · 3 years

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CHARACTER STUDY.

LAYER 001 : THE OUTSIDE.

NAME : Benjamin Tallmadge

EYE COLOR : Blue

HAIR STYLE / COLOR : Long, dirty blonde in a queue

HEIGHT : 6′0″

CLOTHING STYLE : Ranges depending on the required setting -- can be neat and tidy, but also frayed and unassuming.

BEST PHYSICAL FEATURE : Eyes

LAYER 002 : THE INSIDE.

FEARS : Failure, disappointing those who matter, drowning (after nearly dying in the Delaware)

GUILTY PLEASURE : Reading any and all materials, regardless of whether or not he agrees with the subject matter. Ben is curious about the world around him and wishes to understand as much as possible. The “guilty” part only comes from the more risqué or controversial readings.

BIGGEST PET PEEVE : When others refuse to follow his orders or see things from his perspective.

AMBITIONS FOR THE FUTURE : To help bring the colonies to glory, then settle down, return to teaching, and become a husband and father.

LAYER 003 : THOUGHTS.

FIRST THOUGHTS WAKING UP : Ben is a creature of habit, so he immediately falls into planning for his assigned tasks.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT MOST : Whether or not he’s doing the right thing, or if he’s truly smart enough or brave enough for the job he’s been assigned.

WHAT THEY THINK ABOUT BEFORE BED : Ben rarely sleeps. He is kept awake by the immense pressures from his job, so naturally, his last thoughts before the little sleep he does glean are about the ring.

WHAT THEY THINK THEIR BEST QUALITY IS : His resilience and dedication. No matter what is potentially in the way, he sticks to his principles.

LAYER 004 : WHAT’S BETTER ?

SINGLE OR GROUP DATES : It depends. Ben isn’t necessarily uncomfortable around women, but he’s not the most smooth, so having friends around can help ease the pressure.

TO BE LOVED OR RESPECTED : Again, it depends. Ben definitely wishes for both, though the level of that depends upon the person in question. For instance, he wishes for both from people like his father.

BEAUTY OR BRAINS : Brains. Ben loves intellectual discussion.

DOGS OR CATS : Dogs.

LAYER 005 : DO THEY…

LIE : Yes. It’s part of his job to be deceptive. However, he believes he is lying for the greater good.

BELIEVE IN THEMSELVES : He certainly tries to.

BELIEVE IN LOVE : Yes. He’s a bit of a pushover in that respect.

WANT SOMEONE : Definitely. Ben never felt quite as lonely and desperate for affection as he did once he entered the war.

LAYER 006 : HAVE THEY EVER…

BEEN ON STAGE : Yes, for a school play.

DONE DRUGS : No.

CHANGED WHO THEY WERE TO FIT IN : Yes.

LAYER 007 : FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOR : Ben has always enjoyed the blazing colors of dawn, though he became partial to blue once it became a rebel color.

FAVORITE ANIMAL : Horses.

FAVORITE BOOK : Cato

FAVORITE GAME : Quoits

LAYER 008 : AGE. Timeline dependent, though I typically have him at 24.

DAY THEIR NEXT BIRTHDAY WILL BE : February 25th I don’t feel like looking up the specific day lol.

HOW OLD WILL THEY BE : Timeline dependent.

LAYER 009 : FINISH THE SENTENCE.

I LOVE : my friends and family.

I FEEL : hollow and desolate.

I HIDE : my true feelings.

I MISS : my innocence.

I WISH : I could see my brother again.

TAGGED BY: @ofprevioustimes -- thank you! <3

TAGGING: Anyone who wants to do it! <3 STEAL IT FROM ME.

#about ben #//damn that last part got bleak lmao #idky i'm laughing I'M SO MEAN TO MY MUSE #thanks again for tagging! <3

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veeples-archive · 3 years

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art analysis: deconstructing lilas's a du mortain

This started as a “ha ha what if I did an analysis of your stained glass piece… unless”.

So here we are.

I am by no means knowledgeable in art analysis or anything like that, and I am by no means even someone who writes meta. Please be gentle with me.

The analysis I'll be going over is @lilas's stunning illustration of A du Mortain, found here. Analysis below the cut.

I’ll begin first with the chosen style of this piece, which is, of course, a stained glass mural. Much as the original purpose of stained glass murals were meant to convey Biblical stories to the illiterate, we instantly recognize the glimpse of A du Mortain’s past: of fire, of loss. A du Mortain remains centered here, a slumped figure, staring yet unseeing, while the flames rage around them. They’re surrounded by purple hyacinth and a star above shines down upon them and reflects into a pool of water their fingers graze.

Of special note is the movement of this piece. The flowers, the fire, A's (ugh, gorgeous) hair sweep up towards the sky, pointing to the radiating star that overlooks the illustration. Our eye gets drawn back down by the star reflected in the pool since it is a stark contrast at the bottom, letting us look back up, then down, then back up -- it's good movement and composition is what I'm saying.

Beyond that, the quality of the picture is of course, stunning. It’s also heavy with symbolism, and I’m enough of a dumb asshole to pretend like I know shit-all about analysis. I’ll go ahead and break it down.

The Star and Moon

One of the focal points in the illustration is a bright star in an otherwise starless night sky. In Book 2, Sanja noted to A in her prophecy that A fears the light: the light that we know is representative of the Detective. The star here is meant to be the light of the Detective: though their light and the hope that they represent is unreachable to A here in this moment, it will not always be so. The light is reflected in the pool, and although it is certainly distorted, it helps ground the possibility that A can reach for that light and connect to it. A’s fingers aren’t touching its reflection, but remains close and tangible.

The moon on A’s armor can also link us back to light. In real life, we see the moon because it reflects light from the sun. The Detective’s light reflects onto A, allowing us to slowly, but surely, see A for who they really are and allow their true beauty and soul to shine for us to see.

The Colors

Overall, the color composition of this is fairly cool toned: cool toned blues and purples make up the sky and the water and the flowers. Even the reds of the flames are more cool than they are warm. It allows the warmer toned yellow of the lower flames pop even brighter against the cool tone of the metallic green-grey of A’s armor: it’s a smart way of drawing the eye down to A’s figure and highlighting their importance in the piece.

Also of note is that the grey-green of the armor is echoed in the star above. The star, as previously mentioned to be representative of the Detective, is of a somewhat similar color to A’s armor, providing an additional link between the two. The star also serves as a bright spot in an otherwise very dark sky, serving as a beacon of light that A can follow to guide them out of the darkness they’ve kept themselves in.

The Flowers

The inclusion of the flowers is my favorite part of the picture. Beyond the reference to hyacinths in A’s route and what purple hyacinths mean (sorrow), and the tone it sets for A’s character, I also want to draw back into some Greek mythology on the symbolism of hyacinths. In Greek mythology, Hyacinthus was one of Apollo’s lovers. During a game of quoit, which involved throwing discs over a distance, Hyacinthus is fatally injured. In some versions, he dies because Apollo threw the disc with such strength that when Hyacinthus went after it to catch it, the disc bounced off the ground and hit him in the head. In other versions, Zephryus, God of the west wind, also admired Hyacinthus and changed the course of the wind to kill Hyacinthus out of jealousy. From Hyacinth’s blood Apollo created the flower we now know as hyacinths.

Both versions allude to A’s tragedy. Apollo feels guilt and blames himself for the death of his lover, just the same as whatever A did in their life they blame themselves for the death of their siblings and the sorrow they feel over their loss, even 900 years after the fact.

However I appreciate that the hyacinths have a duality to them: sorrow at the loss of loved ones, reflected by the haunting faces in the fire, but also the simple fact that they are still a living plant. They still reflect a sense of hope and growth. From Apollo’s sorrow he made a new life. He made beauty. Life from death, life from loss. Life in resistance to the destruction of the flames surrounding A.

Proof that despite all the pain and all the blood, life can, and does, persist. And so A can as well.

#vee talks #i'm not putting this in the main tag because this is silliness #twc meta #sort of....................................#anyway [goes back into hiding]

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koalas-koalas-everywhere · 5 years

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Live blogging the Hobbit pt.7

Flies And Spiders

I’ve been looking forward to this one.

“There were black squirrels in the wood. As Bilbo’s sharp inquisitive eyes got used to seeing things he could catch glimpses of them whisking off the path and scuttling behinf tree-trunks.” I should write a fic about this myself, but I think it would be a funny scene to have Bilbo, with his sharper eyesight, mention the squirrels and the dwarves just. Have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about? What squirrels?? Bilbo: … the squirrels. Dwarves: wut. B:The squirrels that run around every once in a while. And him trying to point them out but being unable to because of their speed and their black colour. Eventually, after they’ve been in the woods a while, becoming irritable and kinda muddled and just really freaked out, Bilbo snaps and out of nowhere throws a rock at one of them, only stunning it, but effectively bringing it down. The dwarves are all like, Bilbo wtf, both because it was very sudden and because they didn’t know he had that good of an aim, but he just goes “you see it? you see it? oh thank heavens I was starting to think I was going crazy and just imagining it.” That’s when they decide to try to shoot them and eat them and when they realise… well, I’ll keep it for that bulletpoint.

“Even the dwarves felt it, who were used to tunneling, and lived at times for long whiles without the light of the sun; but the hobbit, who liked holes to make a house in but not to spend summer days in, felt that he was being slowly suffocated.”

Lmao why does he always get the worst of it? Tolkien, I’ll see you in hell.

“They tried shooting the squirrels, and they wasted many arrows before they managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, it proved horrible to taste, and they shot no more squirrels.”

Here it is, back to the story, they hunt the squirrels, realise they’re gross, and are like, “Bilbo, you’re the most weirdly skillful yet useless person we’ve ever met.”

‘Dori is the strongest, but Fili is the youngest and still has the best sight.” Fili is the what

“All the time he was wondering whether there were spiders in the tree, and how he was going to get down again (except by falling).”

why not

“They did not care tuppence about the butterflies, and ere only made more angry when he told them of the beautiful breeze, which they were too heavy to climb up and feel.” It is kind of tacky, Bilbo

Double fuck, my bookmark fell off and the spine got cracked. This has literally never happened to me before D:<

In theory, leaving a mark that something’s been used and loved is a concept I like. In practice? This is bothering me.

“That night they ate the last scraps and crumbs of food; and next morning when they woke the first thing they noticed was that they were still gnawingly hungry, and the nest thing was that it was raining and that here and there the drip of it was dropping heavily on the forest floor.” I mean, they’ve eaten the last of the food and they’re still hungry — chances are that even if they’d known they were almost out of the woods, they wouldn’t have made it anyway. (So certain authors can stow it.)

“There were many people there, elvish-looking folk, all dressed in green and brown and sitting on sawn rings of the felled trees in a great circle.” Why elvish-looking and not just elves?

“They were lost in a completely lightless dark and they could not even find one another, not for a long time at any rate. After blundering frantically in the gloom, falling over logs, bumping crash into trees, and shouting and calling till they must have waked everything in the forest for miles, at last they managed to gather themselves in a bundle and count themselves by touch.” First off, I want to serve this as an example of and proof that Tolkien, while not going quite so low as to make scatological and fart jokes, used plenty of slapstick comedy. Second, oh my god you guys, that is not the way to find each other in the dark!

“Thorin said: ‘No rushing forward this time! No one is to stir from hiding till I say. I shall send Mr. Baggins alone first to talk to them. They won’t be frightened of him--(‘What about me of them?’ thought Bilbo)-- and any way I hope they won’t do anything nasty to him.’” All praise the fearless and generous leader!

It reminds me of a fanfic I really like, still in progress, where the fanon dynamic for Bagginshield (and indeed, most common tropes of romance) gets subverted by having Thorin trust and rely on Bilbo to protect him instead of being overprotective. It was started after the first movie but before the others, and I can really see it in the book. (Of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that Tolkien didn’t write it to be romantic.)

“‘They are the best I am likely to get in this beastly place,’ he mutteres, ad he lay down beside the dwarves and tried to go back to sleep and find his dream again.” Dwarf(and hobbit)pile!

“He was deep in thoughts of bacon and eggs and toast and butter when he felt something touch him. Something like a strong sticky string was against his left hand, and when he tried to move he found that his legs were already wrapped in the same stuff, so that when he got up he fell over.

Then the great spider, who had been busy tying him up while he dozed, came from behind him and came at him.” Almost executed for daydreaming about breakfast in the middle of Mirkwood at night crimes.

“He beat the creature off with his hands--it was trying to poison him to keep him quiet, as small spiders do to flies--until he remembered his sword and drew it out.”

Bilbo: *balls up fists and swings them like cartoon boxer* Let’s do this Shire style!

But also, I want to point out that it says he beat it off not tried to beat it off. That implies success.

Also, I’m kind of freaked out at the implication that that’s a small spider.

“Then it went mad and leaped and danced and flung out its legs in horrible jerks, until he killed it with another stroke; and then he fell down and remembered nothing more for a long while.

There was the usual dim grey light of the forest-day about him when he came to his senses.” Fair.

“Bilbo was a pretty fair shot with a stone, and it did not take him long to find a nice smooth egg-shaped one that fitted his hand cosily. As a boy he used to practise throwing stones at things, until rabbits and squirrels, and even birds, got out of his was as quick as lightning if they saw him stoop; and even grow--up he had still spent a deal of his time at quoits, dart-throwing, shooting at the wand, bowls, ninepins and other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort--indeed he could do lots of things, besides blowing smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking, that I haven’t had time to tell you about. There is no time now.” There are so many levels of hilarity here, like

1- Bilbo used to be a fucking menace. And he didn’t quite get over it either!

2- They only ran away when he stooped? This just makes me think that he might have done nice things to make them at least tolerate him otherwise, instead of outright avoiding him or attacking him. Like, “ah, it’s that little boy, who’ll either feed us, he’s so nice and- uh oh he stooped, time to go boys.” Alternatively, it’s genetic memory warning them away from Bilbo. I was thinking maybe it was about all hobbits, but it does say “until they got out of his way”, meaning there was a time when they didn’t.

3- That’s such a hilariously late time in the story to introduce us to the fact that the main character has not only good aim but a strong enough arm to throw a stone right through a giant spider’s web, which would be thicker and probably more durable than the normal variety, already stronger than steel. And then kill the spider on the other side.

4- “Other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort.” Idk man, other games of the sort, figure it out yourself.

5- I want to know about the other stuff Bilbo can do.

“This is what he sang:

Old fat spider spinning in a tree!

Old fat spider can’t see me!

Attercop! Attercop!

Won’t you stop,

Stop your spinning and look for me?

Old Tomnoddy, all big body.

Old Tomnoddy can’t spy me!

Attercop! Attercop!

Down you drop!

You’ll never catch me up your tree!

Not very good perhaps, but then you must remember that he had to make it up himself, on the spur of a very awkward moment.” Tolkien, shut up, it’s beautiful.

Also, lol, about to be eaten by spiders, how awks.

“Standing now in the middle of the hunting and spinning insects Bilbo plucked up his courage and began a new song.” Bilbo: If I’m gonna die, it’s gonna be as annoyingly as possible.

Honestly, though, this is my favourite song in the book.

“Bilbo’s next job was to loose a dwarf.” Very different from losing a dwarf, which he’s already done x14 (Thorin counts twice, especially considering he hasn’t even realized he’s lost him yet).

“Suddenly Bilbo noticed that some of the spiders had gathered round old Bombur on the floor, and had tied him up again and were dragging him away. He gave a shout and slashed at the spiders in front of him. They quickly gave way, and he scrambled and fell down the tree right into the middle of those on the ground. His little sword was something new in the way of stings for them. How it darted to and fro! It shone with delight as he stabbed at them. Half a dozen were killed before the rest drew off and left Bombur to Bilbo.” Bilbo’s gone berserk.

Also, Sting shone with delight? What a bloodthirsty blade.

“Away behind them now the shouting and singing suddenly stopped.” DUN DUN DUUUUUN

“Things were looking pretty bad again, when suddenly Bilbo reappeared, and charged into the astonished spiders unexpectedly from the side.

‘Go on! Go on!” he shouted. “I will do the stinging!”

And he did. He darted backwards and forwards, slashing at spider-threads, hacking at their legs, and stabbing at their fat bodies if they came too near. The spiders swelled with rage, and spluttered and frothed, and hissed out horrible curses; but they had become mortally afraid of Sting, and dared not come very near, now that it had come back. So curse as they would, their prey moved slowly but steadily away. It was a most terrible business, and seemed to take hours.” Love this part. All very heroic.

“They knew only too well that they would soon all have been dead if it had not been for the hobbit; and they thanked him many times. Some of them even got up and bowed right to the ground before him, though they fell over with the effort, and could not get on their legs again for some time.” I can imagine Bilbo all flustered, going “good. Hope you’ve learned your lesson and won’t be doing that again. Limit yourself to fawning.”

“All of a sudden Dwalin opened an eye, and looked round at them. ‘Where is Thorin?’ he asked.”Lmao, finally!

“They differed from the High Elves of the West, and were more dangerous and less wise.” Feral.

“All this was well known to every dwarf, though Thorin’s family had had nothing to do with the old quarrel I have spoken of. Consequently Thorin was angry at their treatment of him, when they took their spell off and he came to his senses.” Another change done for the movie: Thorin’s family wasn’t involved in the feud.

Also lmao this weapon, a prisoner and all “how dare you”.

I’m not going to talk about the conversation between Thorin and Thranduil bc it’s probably been done to death.

Definitely my favourite chapter this far. Main character’s skills and learned courage begins to show? Check. He uses them in a fight that gives him extra confidence? Check. Heroics mixed with witty commentary and one-liners? Check. Team begins to see them in a new, more positive light? Check. Elves being made fun of and painted as kinda ridiculous? Check. (This one’s very subjective ig.)

#The Hobbit #liveblogging #Bilbo Baggins #Thorin Oakenshield III #dwarves #hobbits #The Company of Thorin Oakenshield #Gandalf #Elves #Mirkwood #Spiders

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