#Heathenish Book

[triste-guillotine]

“Drawing Down The Moon - Witches, Druids, Goddess-Worshippers & Other Pagans In America Today” by Margot Adler

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

(TW: Religion)

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

When we think about reconciling Christianity and our identity, then we are often automatically jumping to „re-interpreting Bible verses that are used to justify homophobia/transphobia“ or to „looking for Bible verses that can be interpreted in a lgbt-supportive way“. 

Both of that is valid and definitely has its place. And if you are someone who (or trying to discuss with someone who) believes everything in the Bible is true and to be taken literal, then looking for the most accurate interpretation of each passage is also pretty much the only thing you can do.

In that case, take comfort in knowing that there is often historical, cultural etc. context missing from conservative interpretations and learning about that context lets us see seemingly hateful verses in a much more inclusive light! 

That Bible verse that seems to be against gay sex may very well be against rape, that Bible verse that seems to be against trans people dressing the way they want to may very well be condemning old rituals that have nothing to do with modern life. I don’t think looking for these alternative (or maybe *better*) explanations is heathenish at all. God wants you to think critically, that’s why he gave you the ability to. If he gave you a book to live your life according to, then it stands to reason that he’d want you to find the most accurate meaning of his words, and that means looking past the most superficial interpretation.

But if you are (or the person you’re talking to is) open to the idea that maybe the Bible isn’t meant to be taken literal in its entirety - then it can feel tedious to dissect singular verses. 

In that case, you probably don’t feel the need to dissect other parts either and you just disregard them. For example you look at certain verses containing rules on hygiene or health, and you disregard them because you figure those were written in, and for, wildly different times and they just do not apply to modern life anymore, and you believe that one can be a good Christian while also disregarding those specific verses. 

If that’s you, then an approach that might fit you better would be to look at the bigger picture instead. Treat the Bible like you would any self-help book - look at the overall messages but don’t assume that every single line is applicable to your life or even holds meaning. 

This may seem counterintuitive or even like a “bad” thing to do, especially if you grew up in a taking-the-Bible-literal household, so I’ll give you some potential questions that may help you get into the mindset: 

Which messages are repeated often throughout the Bible? Which messages are repeated in most big religions you know? Which messages would come to your mind first if you were to teach a child about God? Which values or attributes describe God best? 

For me, and for many people, the biggest ones would be “God loves you unconditionally” and “God wants you to love others”. Another important one might be “God created you, and everyone else, because he wanted you to exist”. 

When you identified some big picture core messages, and are open to the idea that the Bible may not be meant to be taken literal in its entirety (for example because it was inspired by the Holy Spirit but written by humans and humans can make mistakes or add their own personal agenda, or also simply because it’s so old and over time some of its original teachings got mistranslated or lost), then you may be able to look at these seemingly hateful verses with new eyes - not seeking to find a more accurate explanation, but rather being able to compare them to those core messages and being able to say “this fits in with the core message” or “this doesn’t fit in with the core message”. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[myrsinemezzo]

Mwahaha you asked for the only non-fiction book I’m working on which is a compilation of pagan rituals and bits of lore gathered by 19th-century folklorists so us pagan types can get inspiration and have a better sense of where current ritual activities and ideas come from. It means I spend way too much time combing through dusty journals on JSTOR. Here’s a snippet of my notes from the first chapter:

On the Eve of the Feast of St. George in Croatia [April 23], “the woman go into the woods and gather flowers and grasses, which they throw into the water, imagining that thus the new strength of Nature enters into them. pg. 156

- Folk-Lore Journal 1/5 1883 “Songs for the Rite of May”

May-poles were prohibited by the Long Parliament of 1644, being denounced as a “heathenish vanity generally abused to superstition and wickedness.”

There’s so much more lol. Hoping to get it published one day.

[mischievovs]

Acrostic, Beat, Calligramme, Didactic, and Elegy.

Words are like the clay of the mind. We shape and build them into pieces that hold, depict, and contain human emotions and thoughts. One of the structures words build is poetry, a creative design with spirals of thought, the color of the soul, and the shape of a mind ever-changing. For example, in the Acrostic poem Elizabeth, Edgar Allan Poe conceptualizes the pursuit of Elizabeth by using every letter of her name to demonstrate his fixation on her. Nothing of language is in vain; every letter lends usage to emit love or what could be an obsession.

“Elizabeth, it surely is most fit

[Logic and common usage so commanding]

In thy own book that first thy name be writ,

Zeno and other sages notwithstanding;

And I have other reasons for so doing

Besides my innate love of contradiction;

Each poet - if a poet - in pursuing

The muses thro' their bowers of Truth or Fiction,

Has studied very little of his part,

Read nothing, written less - in short's a fool

Endued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art,

Being ignorant of one important rule,

Employed in even the theses of the school-

Called - I forget the heathenish Greek name

[Called anything, its meaning is the same]

"Always write first things uppermost in the heart."”

Similar to obsession, in Naked Lunch, William S. Burroughs depicts a loss of control. Every single thought of a junky is written down in the format of a novel that reads like a poem of modern civilization.

“Rube flips in the end, running through empty automat and subway stations, screaming. 'Come back, and follows his boy right into the East River, down through condoms and orange peels, mosaic of floating newspapers, down into the silent black ooze with gangsters in concrete, and pistols pounded flat to avoid the probing finger of prurient ballistic experts”

What he writes reads like a beat poem. He rejects the prude values of mass society and runs with poetic madness, creating a “jargon of the jazz world.” he is not constructing a perfect order- a bureaucratic notion and accepted idea of poetry, but rather holding up a mirror to the bear face of humanity, hopping from line to line, unwinding a rhyme in his written “madness.”

Every style of poem is a creative design. In Ellen Hopkins’s “Identical,” she utilizes poetry and the Calligramme technique to develop a story of two twins separated by a tragic accident- every page contains a poem with lines arranged into shapes depicting the escalating relationship between the protagonists.

She captures the scattering of minds and the similarities between the twins through parallel columns of poems that meet in the middle. Every page of the poem shifts between columns, hearts, and spirals, illustrating the development of the plot.

In didactic poetry, the two protagonists are the reader and the instructive message the author presents in brief rhyme. For example, in A Divine Image, William Blake notes the flaws of human character, stating the various shades of hostility we hold in our hearts, face, and flesh. His poem treads into a social history of duplicity, demonstrating a reality of human character, a nature we place in the back of our minds.

“Cruelty has a Human Heart

And Jealousy a Human Face

Terror the Human Form Divine

And Secrecy, the Human Dress

The Human Dress, is forged Iron

The Human Form, a fiery Forge.

The Human Face, a Furnace seal'd

The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.”

In Elegies, loss comes to the forefront of the poet’s mind. In an Elegy for Jane, Theodore Roethke mourns his beloved Jane. He reminisces upon her joy, liveliness, and vivacity. The poem begins with remembrance and ends with a yearning for her wakefulness.

[princesssarisa]

Someday, when I have even more time and energy than I do now, I might like to write an essay about the ambivalence toward righteous anger in the Brontë sisters' novels.

There's definitely ambivalence in Jane Eyre. On the one hand, Jane's anger (in her childhood and in the rare moments when it surfaces in her adulthood) is justified, and it's clear that the book's social commentary is on her side. Righteous anger on behalf of women and children is at the very core of the book's moral stance. But there's also an inescapable sense that Jane's anger is supposed to be a "heathenish," unchristian character flaw, that Helen Burns is meant to be the better role model in her endless forgiveness and patient acceptance of abuse, and that it's positive growth when Jane forgives the aunt who abused her and Rochester for his deceit.

Wuthering Heights lacks the clear-cut moral stance of Jane Eyre, but there's a sense of ambivalence there too. Heathcliff's anger is fully justified, and yet it corrupts him and makes him a villain. Meanwhile, @faintingheroine has just recently posted about the different portrayals of Heathcliff's two female abuse victims. How Isabella, who comes to unabashedly hate Heathcliff, verbally tears him to shreds with no remorse, and makes a clean getaway, is framed as less of a heroine than Cathy 2, who keeps trying to forgive and change Linton to no avail and even afterwards still nurses him as he dies, whose happy ending comes from forgiving Hareton and accepting part of the blame for their conflict (even though Hareton once hit her!), and who stops standing up to her worst abuser, Heathcliff, out of respect for Hareton's love for him. Of course it's hard to say how we're "supposed" to feel about any of this, because all the narrators are distinctly flawed, biased people, but still.

I haven't read Anne's books yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if some similar ambivalence can be found in them.

I think it makes sense, given their upbringing. On the one hand, they wanted to speak out against social injustice. On the other hand, as a clergyman's daughters, the Christian virtue of forgiveness had undoubtedly been drilled into them. But then, of course, the same ambivalence can be found in Christianity itself. Jesus advocated endless forgiveness and turning the other cheek, and he patiently accepted his own torture and execution while praying to God to forgive the perpetrators, but he also had righteous anger of his own (e.g. the cleansing of the temple) and spoke out passionately against injustice and abuse of power.

This is an issue I'd like to see examined in more depth.

[novemango]

live-reading Moby Dick from within the indie video game The Longing, with idle reading mode on

general comments:

Honestly, I like reading Moby Dick from within a video game better than reading Moby Dick from an actual print book or pdf. Somehow, I’m able to focus better when I can only read a paragraph at a time and I feel I have a hard “time limit” to finish reading that paragraph before the automaticity of Idle Reading Mode kicks in and forces me along to the next paragraph. Soundtrack is nice too.

chapters 1-2:

Okay I shouldn’t armchair diagnose willy-nilly but Melville gives me ADHD vibes with his writing. We have a special interest (whaling) and he jumps from topic to topic to literary/mythological reference to literary/mythological reference. Brain making wild connections every two sentences. There’s also something kinda cute to me about how he assumes that Everyone TM loves the ocean and that if you let a human loose they will automatically find water, like a dowsing rod. Ishmael is also...quietly emotional, if that makes sense. I get the sense that Ishmael (the narrator) is reserved and private outwardly, but this guy is going off and having fun in his inner world 24/7.

chapter 3:

We’re suddenly in second-person POV?? Melville, you would’ve loved IF. If only you lived to our time...and suddenly we’re back to 1st person after Ishmael looks at a painting. I’m so glad no one edited this book. Ishmael looks at another “heathenish” painting and the book is in 2nd person again. Also, Melville writes these beautiful, lush, rich, vivid descriptions...he would be a good DM too. I’m getting Darkest Dungeon Ancestor vibes from this line: “Abominable are the tumblers into which he pours his poison.” 

Melville/Ishmael describes mariners getting drunk in a bar as “orgies” — I don’t know if the meaning of that word has changed over time, but I’m suspecting more and more that Ishmael is the kind of guy who thinks more than three people drinking something stronger than water together is a “crazy party” (honestly I was the same way when I was an adolescent).

[forgottengenres]

“I don’t know of very many literature podcasts that are worth listening to, just to be honest. But I was excited when Leza invited me to “get lit” on her show, ’cause1. I had just read and dug her story collection Cartoons In the Suicide Forest, and2. Leza is a trailblazer. She likes mixing shit up and isn’t afraid to be messy with it along the way, and that brings an admirable layer of genuineness to the show. I enjoyed being a guest, even though we went to some dark places I wasn’t expecting to go to, but that’s part of it, right? You never know what might go down on Get Lit with Leza. Might even get asked to spit a freestyle or get gangsta with a hand puppet (what up, Ophelia Piggly). Anyway, hope you dig it, listeners.”-Kelby Losack

[pamphletstoinspire]

Book Of Genesis - From The Latin Vulgate - Chapter 15

INTRODUCTION.

The Hebrews now entitle all the Five Books of Moses, from the initial words, which originally were written like one continued word or verse; but the Sept. have preferred to give the titles the most memorable occurrences of each work. On this occasion, the Creation of all things out of nothing, strikes us with peculiar force. We find a refutation of all the heathenish mythology, and of the world’s eternity, which Aristotle endeavoured to establish. We behold the short reign of innocence, and the origin of sin and misery, the dispersion of nations, and the providence of God watching over his chosen people, till the death of Joseph, about the year 2369 (Usher) 2399 (Sal. and Tirin) B.C. 1631. We shall witness the same care in the other Books of Scripture, and adore his wisdom and goodness in preserving to himself faithful witnesses, and a true Holy Catholic Church, in all ages, even when the greatest corruption seemed to overspread the land. H.

—————————-

This Book is so called from its treating of the Generation, that is, of the Creation and the beginning of the world. The Hebrews call it Bereshith, from the word with which it begins. It contains not only the History of the Creation of the World, but also an account of its progress during the space of 2369 years, that is, until the death of Joseph.

The additional Notes in this Edition of the New Testament will be marked with the letter A. Such as are taken from various Interpreters and Commentators, will be marked as in the Old Testament. B. Bristow, C. Calmet, Ch. Challoner, D. Du Hamel, E. Estius, J. Jansenius, M. Menochius, Po. Polus, P. Pastorini, T. Tirinus, V. Bible de Vence, W. Worthington, Wi. Witham. — The names of other authors, who may be occasionally consulted, will be given at full length.

Verses are in English and Latin. HAYDOCK CATHOLIC BIBLE COMMENTARY

This Catholic commentary on the Old Testament, following the Douay-Rheims Bible text, was originally compiled by Catholic priest and biblical scholar Rev. George Leo Haydock (1774-1849). This transcription is based on Haydock’s notes as they appear in the 1859 edition of Haydock’s Catholic Family Bible and Commentary printed by Edward Dunigan and Brother, New York, New York.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

Changes made to the original text for this transcription include the following:

Greek letters. The original text sometimes includes Greek expressions spelled out in Greek letters. In this transcription, those expressions have been transliterated from Greek letters to English letters, put in italics, and underlined. The following substitution scheme has been used: A for Alpha; B for Beta; G for Gamma; D for Delta; E for Epsilon; Z for Zeta; E for Eta; Th for Theta; I for Iota; K for Kappa; L for Lamda; M for Mu; N for Nu; X for Xi; O for Omicron; P for Pi; R for Rho; S for Sigma; T for Tau; U for Upsilon; Ph for Phi; Ch for Chi; Ps for Psi; O for Omega. For example, where the name, Jesus, is spelled out in the original text in Greek letters, Iota-eta-sigma-omicron-upsilon-sigma, it is transliterated in this transcription as, Iesous. Greek diacritical marks have not been represented in this transcription.

Footnotes. The original text indicates footnotes with special characters, including the astrisk (*) and printers’ marks, such as the dagger mark, the double dagger mark, the section mark, the parallels mark, and the paragraph mark. In this transcription all these special characters have been replaced by numbers in square brackets, such as [1], [2], [3], etc.

Accent marks. The original text contains some English letters represented with accent marks. In this transcription, those letters have been rendered in this transcription without their accent marks.

Other special characters.

Solid horizontal lines of various lengths that appear in the original text have been represented as a series of consecutive hyphens of approximately the same length, such as .

Ligatures, single characters containing two letters united, in the original text in some Latin expressions have been represented in this transcription as separate letters. The ligature formed by uniting A and E is represented as Ae, that of a and e as ae, that of O and E as Oe, and that of o and e as oe.

Monetary sums in the original text represented with a preceding British pound sterling symbol (a stylized L, transected by a short horizontal line) are represented in this transcription with a following pound symbol, l.

The half symbol (½) and three-quarters symbol (¾) in the original text have been represented in this transcription with their decimal equivalent, (.5) and (.75) respectively.

Unreadable text. Places where the transcriber’s copy of the original text is unreadable have been indicated in this transcription by an empty set of square brackets, [].

Chapter 15

God promiseth seed to Abram. His faith, sacrifice and vision.

[1] Now when these things were done, the word of the Lord came to Abram by a vision, saying: Fear not, Abram, I am thy protector, and thy reward exceeding great. His itaque transactis, factus est sermo Domini ad Abram per visionem dicens : Noli timere, Abram : ego protector tuus sum, et merces tua magna nimis.

[2] And Abram said: Lord God, what wilt thou give me? I shall go without children: and the son of the steward of my house is this Damascus Eliezer. Dixitque Abram : Domine Deus, quid dabis mihi? ego vadam absque liberis, et filius procuratoris domus meae iste Damascus Eliezer.

[3] And Abram added: But to me thou hast not given seed: and lo my servant, born in my house, shall be my heir. Addiditque Abram : Mihi autem non dedisti semen, et ecce vernaculus meus, haeres meus erit.

[4] And immediately the word of the Lord came to him, saying: He shall not be thy heir: but he that shall come out of thy bowels, him shalt thou have for thy heir. Statimque sermo Domini factus est ad eum, dicens : Non erit hic haeres tuus, sed qui egredietur de utero tuo, ipsum habebis haeredem.

[5] And he brought him forth abroad, and said to him: Look up to heaven and number the stars, if thou canst. And he said to him: So shall thy seed be. Eduxitque eum foras, et ait illi : Suscipe caelum, et numera stellas, si potes. Et dixit ei : Sic erit semen tuum.

[6] Abram believed God, and it was reputed to him unto justice. Credidit Abram Deo, et reputatum est illi ad justitiam.

[7] And he said to him: I am the Lord who brought thee out from Ur of the Chaldees, to give thee this land, and that thou mightest possess it. Dixitque ad eum : Ego Dominus qui eduxi te de Ur Chaldaeorum ut darem tibi terram istam, et possideres eam.

[8] But he said: Lord God, whereby may I know that I shall possess it? At ille ait : Domine Deus, unde scire possum quod possessurus sim eam?

[9] And the Lord answered, and said: Take me a cow of three years old, and a she goat of three years, and a ram of three years, a turtle also, and a pigeon. Et respondens Dominus : Sume, inquit, mihi vaccam trienem, et capram trimam, et arietem annorum trium, turturem quoque et columbam.

[10] And he took all these, and divided them in the midst, and laid the two pieces of each one against the other; but the birds he divided not. Qui tollens universa haec, divisit ea per medium, et utrasque partes contra se altrinsecus posuit; aves autem non divisit.

[11] And the fowls came down upon the carcasses, and Abram drove them away. Descenderuntque volucres super cadavera, et abigebat eas Abram.

[12] And when the sun was setting, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and a great and darksome horror seized upon him. Cumque sol occumberet, sopor irruit super Abram, et horror magnus et tenebrosus invasit eum.

[13] And it was said unto him: Know thou beforehand that thy seed shall be a stranger in a land not their own, and they shall bring them under bondage, and afflict them four hundred years. Dictumque est ad eum : Scito praenoscens quod peregrinum futurum sit semen tuum in terra non sua, et subjicient eos servituti, et affligent quadringentis annis.

[14] But I will judge the nation which they shall serve, and after this they shall come out with great substance. Verumtamen gentem, cui servituri sunt, ego judicabo : et post haec egredientur cum magna substantia.

[15] And thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace, and be buried in a good old age. Tu autem ibis ad patres tuos in pace, sepultus in senectute bona.

[16] But in the fourth generation they shall return hither: for as yet the iniquities of the Amorrhites are not at the full until this present time. Generatione autem quarta revertentur huc : necdum enim completae sunt iniquitates Amorrhaeorum usque ad praesens tempus.

[17] And when the sun was set, there arose a dark mist, and there appeared a smoking furnace and a lamp of fire passing between those divisions. Cum ergo occubuisset sol, facta est caligo tenebrosa, et apparuit clibanus fumans, et lampas ignis transiens inter divisiones illas.

[18] That day God made a covenant with Abram, saying: To thy seed will I give this land, from the river of Egypt even to the great river Euphrates. In illo die pepigit Dominus foedus cum Abram, dicens : Semini tuo dabo terram hanc a fluvio Aegypti usque ad fluvium magnum Euphraten,

[19] The Cineans and Cenezites, the Cedmonites, Cinaeos, et Cenezaeos, Cedmonaeos,

[20] And the Hethites, and the Pherezites, the Raphaim also, et Hethaeos, et Pherezaeos, Raphaim quoque,

[21] And the Amorrhites, and the Chanaanites, and the Gergesites, and the Jebusites. et Amorrhaeos, et Chananaeos, et Gergesaeos, et Jebusaeos.

Commentary:

Ver. 1. Fear not. He might naturally be under some apprehensions, lest the four kings should attempt to be revenged upon him. --- Reward, since thou hast so generously despised earthly riches. H. --- Abram was not asleep, but saw a vision of exterior objects. v. 5.

Ver. 2. I shall go. To what purpose should I heap up riches, since I have no son to inherit them? Abram knew that God had promised him a numerous posterity; but he was not apprized how this was to be verified, and whether he was to adopt some other for his son and heir. Therefore, he asks modestly, how he out to understand the promise. --- And the son, &c. Heb. is differently rendered, "and the steward of my house, this Eliezer of Damascus." We know not whether Eliezer or Damascus be the proper name. The Sept. have "the son of Mesech, my handmaid, this Eliezer of Damascus." Most people suppose, that Damascus was the son of Eliezer, the steward. The sentence is left unfinished, and must be supplied from the following verse, shall be my heir. The son of the steward, filius procurationis, may mean the steward himself, as the son of perdition denotes the person lost. C.

Ver. 6. Reputed by God, who cannot judge wrong; so that Abram increased in justice by this act of faith, believing that his wife, now advanced in years, would have a child; from whom others should spring, more numerous than the stars of heaven. H. --- This faith was accompanied and followed by many other acts of virtue. S. Jam. ii. 22. W.

Ver. 8. Whereby, &c. Thus the blessed Virgin asked, how shall this be done? Lu. i. 34. without the smallest degree of unbelief. Abram wished to know, by what signs he should be declared the lawful owner of the land. H.

Ver. 9. Three years, when these animals have obtained a perfect age.

Ver. 12. A deep sleep, or ecstasy, like that of Adam. G. ii. 21, wherein God revealed to him the oppression of his posterity in Egypt, which filled him with such horror (M.) as we experience when something frightful comes upon us suddenly in the dark. This darkness represents the dismal situation of Joseph, confined in a dungeon; and of the Hebrews condemned to hard labour, in making bricks, and obliged to hide their male children, for fear of their being discovered, and slain. Before these unhappy days commenced, the posterity of Abram were exposed to great oppression among the Chanaanites, nor could they in any sense be said to possess the land of promise, for above 400 years after this prophetic sleep. H.

Ver. 13. Strangers, and under bondage, &c. This prediction may be dated from the persecution of Isaac by Ismael, A. 2112, till the Jews left Egypt, 2513. In Exodus xii. and S. Paul, 430 years are mentioned; but they probably began when Abram went first into Egypt, 2084. Nicholas Abram and Tournemine say, the Hebrews remained in Egypt full 430 years. from the captivity of Joseph; and reject the addition of the Sept. which adds, "they and their fathers dwelt in Egypt, and in Chanaan." On these points, we may expect to find chronologists at variance.

Ver. 14. Judge and punish the Egyptians, overwhelming them in the Red sea, &c. H.

Ver. 16. Fourth, &c. after the 400 years are finished; during which period of time, God was pleased to bear with those wicked nations; whose iniquity chiefly consisted in idolatry, oppression of the poor and strangers, forbidden marriages of kindred, and abominable lusts. Levit. xviii. Deut. vi. and xii. M.

Ver. 17. A lamp, or symbol of the Divinity, passing, as Abram also did, between the divided beasts, to ratify the covenant. See Jer. xxxiv. 18.

Ver. 18. Of Egypt, a branch of the Nile, not far from Pelusium. This was to be the southern limit, and the Euphrates the northern; the two other boundaries are given, Num. xxxiv. --- Perhaps Solomon's empire extended so far. At least, the Jews would have enjoyed these territories, if they had been faithful. M.

Ver. 19. Cineans, in Arabia, of which nation was Jethro. They were permitted to dwell in the tribe of Juda, and served the Hebrews. --- Cenezites, who probably inhabited the mountains of Juda. --- Cedmonites, or eastern people, as their name shews. Cadmus was of this nation, of the race of the Heveans, dwelling in the environs of mount Hermon, whence his wife was called Hermione. He was, perhaps, one of those who fled at the approach of Josue; and was said to have sowed dragons' teeth, to people his city of Thebes in Beotia, from an allusion to the name of the Hevites, which signifies serpents. C. --- The eleven nations here mentioned were not all subdued; on account of the sins of the Hebrews. M.

[danceswithseatbelts]

Handsome Devil

‘Handsome Devil’

Fandom: The Flash

Snowells (Caitlin Snow x Harry Wells)

Rating: mildly mature? Implied shenanigans

Word Count: 3019

Trying to improve public relations for STAR Labs, Team Flash throws a Halloween party. Coerced into attending, Dr. Wells is his usual intractable self and Caitlin is assigned as his keeper. The devil may be in the details but…this devil, as Caitlin discovers, was capable of unraveling her hard-fought peace of mind. There's no better job for a Snow Angel after all…

Set roughly in season 4, pre-wedding - as canon feeling as I could manage. I tried dammit. Ah, the feels Snowells gives me. <3

><><>< 

Caitlin stifled a sigh and kept her smile in place for Iris, nodding as the other woman read off every item of the Halloween party list they'd both worked on last week. Impressed with the amount finished, but anxious to get back to work, Caitlin had stopped actively listening. She gave an occasional 'hmm' or 'okay' in acknowledgment only to be brought back to earth when Iris became super excited. What the hell had she agreed to?

"I knew you'd be the one to make sure Dr. Wells comes and wears a costume!" Iris clapped her hands and closed her notebook. "I gotta go talk Barry out of us dressing up as Superman and Supergirl."

Despite herself, Caitlin giggled. "His heart is in the right place at least."

Iris rolled her eyes. "We don't need any more reminders we were basically raised as siblings."

"Good luck!" Caitlin waved goodbye to Iris and wished for her own mega-sized portion of luck; getting Harry to attend and wear a costume was going to be an uphill battle. Well, no time like the present to distract and attack. Guilt, would that work on her favourite grumpy scientist? Ah, no matter. If all else failed, she'd go quiet and sad - that ought to bring him 'round to her wishes.

><><><

Knocking softly on Harry's lab door, Caitlin waited almost a full minute before slowly letting herself into his lair. He might be engrossed in an experiment or tweaking a piece of tech, but Cait knew he'd allow her inside. But it was his lair, his lab was his first home - and if he wasn't here, then she'd just hunt him down to his actual set of quarters.

Empty.

No Harry, no machines busy with esoteric tasks, no activity save one Caitlin Snow walking the perimeter, checking for her own interest the last experiment Harry had been enthusing about.

Plan B then, perhaps Harry was already holed up for the night in his set of rooms. Caitlin couldn't stop herself from letting her fingers caress the stack of books to the right of the computer station. The top tome fell and she hurried to pick it off the floor. Always curious, Cait opened it and flipped through. It was one she'd recommended to Harry - not even two days ago. Interesting.

><><><><

This time, surer of finding Harry, Caitlin knocked with confidence, loud and authoritative; as if her alter ego Killer Frost was telling Harry she was there. No meek miss asking for entrance -rather, telling the occupant there was company to be had. The idea had her grinning and as Harry opened the door, it was her grin that Harry reacted to first.

"Good news?"

"Yes?"

"I'm thinking, no." Despite the negative words, Harry's tone wasn't - he was curious about exactly why the woman he'd been thinking about had shown up on his doorstep. Reality gave him a hard slap and Harry sucked air over his teeth. This had to be a trick or something else - something unpleasant. Caitlin was a delight, but the universe wasn't in the habit of giving him presents. "Come in, you're letting the warm air out." He smirked. Of course that was a lie, but it suited his sense of humour.

"Thank you." Ever the polite and attentive guest, Caitlin hurried over the threshold and shut the door. "I hope I haven't interrupted you doing anything important." She let her eyes dance over everything she saw - she'd been wanting to visit his rooms for the longest time, but she'd never had a good excuse. Today though, she had a reason. Caitlin smiled. "I've come to help you!"

Taken aback, Harry almost dropped the book he was holding. Snow couldn't know of his personal plans; the lubricant waiting in his shower, could she? No, of course not, it was just wishful thinking. "With what?"

"As you know, Team Flash agreed to throw a Halloween party for the fine citizens of Central City in the environs of STAR labs." Caitlin could feel her natural enthusiasm rise to the occasion. "It's my pleasure to assist you with deciding on a costume and attending!"

Harry wondered briefly if he'd become senile. Snow was prattling about a Halloween party? "I’m far too old to play dress-up."

"Don't be such a party pooper, mister!"

"It's doctor, Dr. Snow."

Caitlin gave a rueful smile at the snide comment. "Noted." She chewed her lips and tried to jam her hands into non-existent pockets on her skirt. "It would mean a lot to the team if you showed up and joined us."

"I have experiments to plan and more important issues to take care of than helping inspire the plebian public to feel any sort of indebtedness towards even this Earth's STAR labs." Harry winced as Snow blanched. "Not that it isn't a worthy effort…"

"No, I understand." Caitlin looked at her feet and mentally girded her loins. Resolute, she moved further into Harry's room - closer to his rumpled bed. She'd pegged him as a ship-shape type of man. If he wasn't in bed it should have been pristine. Covers smooth and pillows arranged with military precision. What an odd random thought. Back to the matter at hand. "You're afraid."

Incredulous, Harry did drop the book he'd been cradling. "Don't be ridiculous. Me? Afraid? Of what?"

"Having fun, relating to people, not being a grump, and having fun," Caitlin rejoined quickly. "You're especially scared of having fun. You don't have to pay for your mistakes until the end of time - we know you're a solid member of the team. We all want you to be there. You deserve to have fun."

Harry stared at Snow - such a lady, but right now spitting fire and ire as if that would be enough to bow him to her will. "Crowds aren't fun. Costumes and stupid heathenish rites aren't fun. Halloween is a waste of time."

"You're wrong!" Cait actually stomped her foot. "It's a chance to hide your regular self and have fun exploring any avenue of behaviour you want."

"Oh?" The timbre of Harry's voice dropped.

Caitlin felt the hairs on her arms stand to attention; that raspy voice was sinfully sexy. Without considering her words further, Caitlin said, "A costume is both armour against the world and expression of one's deepest self."

"Unless it's one of those sexy, mass-marketed costumes," said Harry drily, "then it's all about making money from a postage sized scrap of fabric. The people who buy those are foolish, deluded souls."

Aghast at Harry's cruel words, Caitlin blinked and stood frozen. A sharp look entered her eyes. "I bet I can prove you wrong." Not letting Harry speak, Caitlin strode over to him and poked him in the chest. "Why don't you wear a sexy costume and I'll wear something that matches you, but innocent. You stay at the party until I give you permission to leave and I'll --"

"Do whatever I demand?"

"Yes!" Caught up in the moment, Caitlin agreed. "Doesn't matter what! Any of your experiments at all! Whatever you want - I will deliver."

"I accept."

"Y-y-you do? I mean, good!"

"Meet me here tomorrow night and we'll discuss your half of our couple's costume." Harry inwardly screamed. Heaven and hell; both god and the devil had to be laughing. Snow was too innocent even with Killer Frost's influence. "Even as excellent an experiment partner as you are, I may not require that as my fee."

Resolute, Caitlin shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I know you won't take advantage, I'm not scared of you."

><><><><

Caitlin nodded dumbly. Harry had just told her his costume and it was indeed sexy. There were few things that revved her engine as much as a man in a fine suit - and to whit, Harry, in an immaculately tailored suit, even garnished with horns, tail and pitch-fork... That was a recipe for a perfect lust storm.

"--You'll be my Snow Angel of course." Taking it for granted, Harry smirked, arms crossed. "Covered from neck to toes, you'll be pure and pristine to match my evil and loathsome attitude."

"Much like beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so must be evil." Caitlin snapped back her rejoinder and stood defiant in front of Harry. "Even angels fall." She flushed but refused to retract any of her words. "Be ready to have fun Friday night dammit!"

Head held high, Caitlin stomped out of Harry's private set of rooms.

><><><

Loud music and a steady stream of guests entering and winding about the decorated rooms of STAR labs had most of Team Flash excited. Cisco's spirits were high and only getting higher while Joe pessimistically lamented the chances of criminal activity only spiking. Iris and Barry held hands and gazes. Wally rolled his eyes. Jesse tugged the neckline of her costume higher - suddenly freezing as the last two members of Team Flash entered the designated main party room of STAR labs.

"Lookin' fine you two!" Iris jumped in excitement. "You do know most people dress opposite to people's expectations?"

Barry snorted and then looked immediately apologetic. "Oh, I bet lots of people who don't know Dr. Wells wouldn't think of him as Satan."

"Yeah," Cisco gave Barry the 'okay' symbol, "only the people who don't know he's a dick might think he's unsuited to be the devil." In response to Caitlin's moue of dismay, Cisco made an overblown bow and took her hand. "You make a lovely angel."

”A snow angel, dolt." Harry took pleasure in being even more blunt than usual. "She's obviously a snow angel. Look at her voluminous and icy white gown, snowflakes on her cape and icicle halo." Tossing his own red satin cape over his shoulder, Harry gazed coolly at his co-workers. "You'll be lucky if tonight doesn't bite you all in the ass."

"Good talk!" shouted Cisco as Harry dragged Caitlin towards one of the refreshment tables. Cisco cupped his hands around his mouth and continued to sass Harry. "Remind me never to use the phrase 'bite me' with you." Cisco exchanged high-fives with the rest of his team. "Stage one, complete."

><><><

"Thank you." Caitlin accepted a cup of mystery punch and tentatively sipped. It was boozy but sweet and therefore pretty good. "This is nice, isn't it?"

Harry scowled. "Has the definition of nice been changed? I hate crowds and I dislike them more when they're drunk and disorderly."

A man wearing a Captain Marvel costume stumbled into Harry and reached out to steady himself on Caitlin's shoulders. "Ooh, an angel!"

Harry gave the man an evil look. "Keep your hands off the snow angel. If you can't handle your drinks, you ought not be drinking." He detached the offending fingers and glared. "Go away."

"Way to keep in character dude!" Drunk Captain America clapped his hands and smiled lopsidedly. "I'd keep my wife safe too - if I had one!" He laughed as if he'd delivered the wittiest joke. "I gotta go find my own Peggy Carter and Bucky." As fast as he'd interrupted, the stranger staggered away, disappearing into the partying crowd.

"My hero."

"Only you, Snow, would ever have the brass tacks to say that like you meant it." Harry looked down and away before draping Caitlin's free hand into the crook of his arm. "I should keep you close. There's a lot more drunk idiots who might accost you."

"I'll allow it." Caitlin looked at Harry from under her lashes. She wanted to say so much more. Something like, 'I'd rather be with you than without.' God have mercy, how strong had the punch been?

"Excellent." Despite himself, Harry's grin was warm; Caitlin had the ability to rev his engines and soothe. "Hungry?"

"Not just yet." Caitlin giggled. "I was thinking about drinking more before dulling any alcoholic haze with food."

"Then let's indulge."

Caitlin shivered. Harry might not have intended to sound like pure carnality - but he had. Indulge? Oh, there were so many things that Caitlin wanted to do and have done to her. Instead of pouring out her dark desires, Caitlin nodded then drained her cup of punch. "Let's get some real drinks."

><><><

Cisco adjusted his turban. "The amazing Carnac votes we go to the karaoke room!"

"Really?" Joe breathed even heavier into his Vader mask. It was hella fun, making his speech into the notable sound of James Earl Jones. "Make it so, number one."

"Wrong!" Iris shook her head. "Dad! You're mixing up Star Wars and Star Trek!"

"Yeah, 'fraid so, Joe!" Barry flipped his Iron Man mask up to look with worry at his foster father - slash - soon-to-be father-in-law. "Can't you keep D.C. and Marvel separate?"

"Tch! Star Trek is Paramount!"

"Then what am I confusing with D.C.?"

Several voices shouted and began arguing with immense fervour.

><><><

Several shots of tequila later, Caitlin smiled at Harry. He'd kept the worst of the drunken revellers from her as well as staying right next to her side. This might be the best day of the year as far as Caitlin was concerned. Nothing else could compare with being escorted by a tall and handsome devil. Caitlin snorted sudden laughter.

"What's got you amused?"

Harry's gravelly tone stoked Caitlin's hormones.

Harry scowled, but his deep blue eyes betrayed his curiosity. "What else do you need?"

"Don't ask something like that if you don't want an honest answer." Caitlin reached up to adjust her icicle halo. "And before you say anything else, I do understand the difference between need and want."

"Of course." Harry masked his sudden confusion by withdrawing the red silk handkerchief from his suit pocket, tucking it back with more care. "I've always been impressed with your intelligence, Snow. You're remarkable."

"Maybe it's the drinks talking, but why don't you call me your Snow Angel?"

Harry wanted to say so much but settled for a quick nod. There were worse things Caitlin could have asked of him. Sidestepping her last question, Harry decided to guide her back to the bar area. "How's about a few more drinks?"

"Such a naughty, handsome devil. Trying to get me drunk and take advantage? I mean, way to get into the festive feel tonight!"

"If only you were my Snow Angel." Harry muttered this louder than he'd intended - making Caitlin clutch his arm and stand still.

"Are you going to give me a Christmas miracle gift on Halloween?"

"We're both a bit drunk. I don't know what you mean." Harry made the mistake of looking into Caitlin's eyes. Warmth rocketed from the pit of his stomach. "What sort of gift were you wanting?"

"Honesty would be a great start."

"Well, I honestly think I've attended this party long enough," Harry smirked. "I know you like to keep a clean slate. You up for your end of our bargain?"

"More than you know." Caitlin raised her chin. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

><><><

And very much like a Christmas miracle, the crowd had parted for both Harry and Caitlin; the escape to his private set of rooms at Star Labs was quick and uneventful.

Closing the door, Harry dropped his pitchfork and detached the cheap red horns of his costume. "Ahhhh."

"Not to be rude, but I kind of liked the horns." Caitlin removed her halo, holding onto it with twisting hands. "They didn't look wrong."

"Thanks." Harry drew out the 'ess'. "Your halo - I'd imagine a flower crown would be the only thing to suit you more."

Touched by his sincerity, Caitlin blushed. "What's with the compliments?"

"That's actually tied in with our little wager." Harry stalked further inside his rooms, jamming his hands into his pants pockets. "You've agreed to anything I demand - and even dressed as the devil, I can't imagine forcing my true wants."

"Which is why it was so easy to agree to your demands." Caitlin flopped onto Harry's bed in a boneless display. "I know you and you're much kinder and sweeter than you present yourself." She kicked off her shoes and giggled as they made a god-awful racket. "You're not even close to devil-status, Harry."

"I might be afraid to do the thing I want, but it remains the thing I want."

The sincerity in Harry's voice made Caitlin sit still. Her intellect, only slightly slowed and addled by tonight's alcohol made sense of his words. "I freely agreed to your terms."

"That you did." Wonderment glowed in Harry's eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Are you?"

Harry stalked closer, grinning as he pinned Caitlin to the side of his bed. "What I want is your active participation. If you can't join me, then there's no point."

"Didn't I tell you earlier that even angels can fall?" Caitlin licked her lips. "I'm no angel for all that everyone seems to believe that." She kept smiling at Harry. "Why don't you elaborate exactly what you want?"

"Lots of heat, sweat, and passion." Harry swooped in, connecting his lips to Caitlin's - delving his tongue deep, coaxing a moan from his Snow Angel's lips. Harry plunged his fingers into Caitlin's hair, closing his eyes as he deepened his kiss. He slanted his mouth and panted harshly.

Long minutes passed as the couple writhed on the bed. For her part, Caitlin could only react with delight - and Harry poured his considerable ardour into their lip-lock. Harry groaned, lifting his weight from Snow's body. "This is moving rather fast. I, ah, you don't have to stay."

"I know. I want to be here. Now, let's get rid of these clothes." Caitlin slid her hand from Harry's hair onto his chest and deftly popped several buttons of his dress shirt. "They're cramping my style."

"We can't have that."

“Not when we can have the heat, sweat, and passion you mentioned earlier.” Caitlin smiled up at Harry and winked. “Don’t hold back.” She ripped Harry’s shirt open the rest of the way. “This Snow Angel is very inspired by her personal handsome devil.” 

[aplitfam]

Queequeg Fan Club

(As of Chapter 12)

For my independent novel, I am reading Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. The character that resonates with me so far is Queequeg, the polynesian harpooner that the main character, Ishmael, befriends. Queequeg is introduced very early on when Ishmael is trying to find a place to sleep at an inn. The landlord suggests he “share a blanket with a harpooner”, seemingly as a joke. Then, after trying in vain to sleep anywhere else, Ishmael begrudgingly consents to the harpooner’s room. By and by, Queequeg stomps in, not realizing there's another already in the bed. Delightful hijinks ensue as Queequeg assumes Ishmael is there to kill him and tries to fight back with a tobacco pipe. On first encounter, Ishmael sees Q as a lowly, “abominable savage”, pagan, canabalistic, and heathenish, who smokes in bed and has dark, stripey tanned skin. However, as the chapters progress, the two form a bond. Through the cliche “and there was only one bed” trope, the roommates end up cuddling and appreciating each other’s warmth and companionship. Ishmael expands his perception of the wider world and starts seeing Queequeg as a person, friend, and confidante, while Q is able to open up, seemingly for the first time since he left his family. Smoking tobacco in bed becomes a bonding ritual for the two instead of an isolating annoyance. Queequeg, although first introduced as an intimidating outsider, is quickly shown to be gentle, tender-hearted, and loyal; a welcome companion to the lonesome Ishmael. I love seeing those aspects of both characters explored in such a delicate way. Ishmael reacts as you'd expect others to respond to native cultures around that time, and yet the author goes an extra step to show the open-mindedness of Ishmael and the unexpected affection from Queequeg. The intimate, often incidentally homoerotic friendship between the two is so refreshing to see between two male characters, especially at the time this book was published. While I don't relate to either character individually, the descriptions of the two together remind me of a cozy sleepover, or when I used to share a room with my sister and we’d share secrets deep into the night. A surprisingly warm and fuzzy start to a book about crazed captains and wild whale chases. 

[alphareleasemedia]

Elizabeth -- Edgar Allan Poe

Elizabeth, it surely is most fit Logic and common usage so commanding, In thy own book that first thy name be writ, Zeno and other sages notwithstanding; And I have other reasons for so doing Beside my innate love of contradiction; Each poet--if a poet--in pursuing The muses thro' their bowers of Truth or Fiction, Has studied very little of his part, Read nothing, written less--in short's a fool Endued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art, Being ignorant of one important rule, Employed in even the theses of the school-- Called--I forget the heathenish Greek name-- Called anything, its meaning is the same, "Always write first things uppermost in the heart."

[kote-the-inn-keeper]

Personal rant, but, I really want more writers to be less ~elusive~ and like vague as shit when it comes to how they go about seeing other people interact with their characters. Not like “this character is my fav and fuck all you readers if you don’t like them”, but the “Haha, hey, that’s fucking disgusting that you’d do that / ship that / etc with my characters when they are clearly not built that way so stop it” kind of way. 

Like, it’s pretty common to see writers either just quietly ignore in*est or und*eage ships or ab*sive ships along with blatant fuckin racism and racist stereotypes that masses of fans dive head first into for??? some ungodly heathenish reason??? Like, yes, the writer is one person. Yes they have their own lives. Yes they work and are busy and blah blah like normal people. But, I know they see it to a degree in some cases. They interact with fans and hear stories or get sent things by friends. Writers have and do interact with fanart (though I guess legally cannot read fanfics until their series of books is over due to possible infringements? Something i read a while ago, idk how true it is). They see this stuff, and like just??? let it go by????

I mean, sure, you could argue the whole “It’d lower sales” or “make people stop reading”. But, oooooookay? And? You’re selling to the world and word of mouth as is, there are a billion other people who will read and consume or hear of your writing. Why is telling off harmful people and possibly driving them away from consuming your work such a bad thing? Why would you want those kinds of people touching or tainting your work anyway?? Oh noooo, people who perpetuate harmful and terrible things won’t touch your work -- oh wait, that’s a good thing. 

When the writer writes family bonds, or bad characters, or a plethora of other shit, I just feel like they shouldn’t have to be ~covert~ and ~polite to everyone~ about not agreeing or blatantly calling out shitty people on how they portray their characters. Readers should be allowed room to have headcanons and imagination and fill in the blanks, I’m not saying they shouldn’t be allowed too (esp if the writer is kinda white-centric or missing representation in other areas overall). I’m saying when it comes to things like the shit above, a writer should be able too, and should, speak out on it and tell their audience to knock to the hell off. Just tell readers like “omfg what is wrong with you??? why would you ship family??? together??? why would you push an ab*sive relationship like that when I’ve very clearly written the one character to be a victim what the fuck??? Why can’t ya’ll just be normal ass people holy shit”. 

Idk that’s just me and I really do hope there are writers out there who do this. Maybe I don’t know them, but it’d be refreshing to see more of it.

[efeafdfw]

here was smoke rising from Seal Rock as well

Then you could hack off my head, same as you did for Slynt. I’ll not give you that pleasure, bastard. The maester protested noisily until Lorren cracked zapatillas de tacos futbol him hard across the face with a mailed fist. Lady Glover emerged from the godswood on the arm of her lugosis carhartt bedmaid. Elsewise the village was gone. She was alone in a white world of snow and silence, plowing through snowdrifts as high as her thighs. The decision has always gone in this way: The slave power will not concede,—we must. The South says, fekete női bakancs “We will take no religious book that has anti-slavery principles in it.” The Sunday School union drops Mr. We mourn and lament over it. We are trying, by gradual and peaceable means, to exclude it from our churches. Griff made no reply. You will die before you drink, his pale eyes seemed to say. She had seen scarecrows with more flesh. His face was a skull with skin, his hair bone-white and filthy. The dwarf snapped one off and sniffed it. Delicious, he thought, and deadly.. The priests denounced him, the lords rose against him, and his own captains hacked him into pieces. Torgon the Latecomer became the king and ruled for forty years.”. The jetty that divided the inner and outer harbors had been fortified with a long stone wall, thirty feet tall and almost a mile long, with towers every hundred yards. There was smoke rising from Seal Rock as well, where once there had been only ruins. That was a lesson Melisandre had learned long before Asshai; the more effortless the sorcery appears, the more men fear the sorcerer. When the flames had licked at Rattleshirt, the ruby at her throat had grown so hot that she had feared her own flesh might start to smoke and blacken. The three Dornishmen cheered with all the rest. Silence would have drawn notice. He was of middling height, his shrewd peasant’s face weathered by wind and sun, his grizzled beard and brown hair well salted with grey. His garb was plain as well: old boots, brown breeches and blue tunic, a woolen mantle of undyed wool, fastened with a wooden clasp. The cheek unmarred by greyscale, Jon did not fail to note. “We are sorry for the little ones, of course, but we must be sensible. This is implied in the whole current of law-making and law-administration, and is often asserted in distinct pantofi sport cu scai barbati form, with a precision and clearness of legal accuracy which, in a literary point of view, are quite admirable. Thus, Judge Ruffin, after stating that considerations restricting the power of polo raflorene the master had often been tommy hilfiger backpack cizme din denim drawn from a comparison of slavery with the relation of parent and child, master and apprentice, tutor and pupil, says distinctly:. When the public sentiment of Europe speaks in tones of indignation of the system of American slavery, the common reply has been, “Look at your own lower classes.” The apologists of slavery have pointed England to her own poor. They have spoken of the heathenish ignorance, the vice, the darkness, of her crowded cities,—nay, even of her agricultural districts.. “Young ones, and pretty,” Mance had said. The unburnt king supplied some names, and Dolorous Edd had done the rest, smuggling them from Mole’s Town. That’s how I must always behave. And I speak as frankly to you as I would speak to myself because for one thing you are a splendid man and I know about your past, with Natasha, before Alyosha’s time, and I cried when I heard about it.”. This can only be upon the principle, that they are men and rational beings. The Roman law has been much relied on by the counsel of the defendant. “Watch,” he commanded. “You too, bear.”. Bubnov. Only two months ago I got some money out of that lady. “Cousin, take this creature to the Wolf’s Den and cut off his head and hands. I want them brought to me before I sup. Stout and Slate, Whoresbane Umber, the quarrelsome Ryswells, Hornwood men and Cerywn bocanci grisport 480 cousins, fat Lord Wyman Manderly … not one of them had known Ned Stark’s daughters half so well as he. And if a few entertained private doubts, surely yeezy off white boost they would be wise enough to keep those misgivings to themselves.. The sight of her sent a knife through his hopes. Her hull was black and gold, her figurehead a lion with an upraised paw. A being, ignorant of letters, unenlightened by religion, and deriving but little instruction from good example, cannot be supposed to have right conceptions as to the nature and extent of moral or political obligations. This remark, with but a slight qualification, is applicable to the condition of the slave. Lady Melisandre watched him rise. “FREE FOLK! Here stands your king of lies. Would you believe it? I don’t know, though, whether I loved that one thing; I just simply loved him altogether, and if he’d been different in some way, if he’d had will or been cleverer, perhaps I shouldn’t have loved him so. Her children are alive, at cizme vara cu toc least, and that is thanks to me. Asha had left them at Ten Towers in the care of her aunts. One was Harwood Fell. His knights pulled him out before he drowned, but not before his lips turned blue and his skin as pale as milk. This fear usually becomes more and more acute, in spite of all the protests of reason, so much so that although the mind sometimes is of exceptional clarity at such moments, it loses all power of resistance. It is unheeded, it becomes useless, and this inward division intensifies the agony of suspense. “Talk. Aye.” Lord Jonos sheathed his sword. “Truths the First Men knew, forgotten now in Winterfell … but not in the wet wild. We live closer to the green in our bogs and crannogs, and we remember. But let us quote from it the directions which God gives for the treatment of the stranger: “If a stranger sojourn with you in your land, ye shall not vex him. But the stranger that dwelleth among you shall be as one born among you: thou shall love him as thyself.” How much more does this apply when the stranger has been brought into our land by the injustice and cruelty of our fathers!.

[historical-fin-blog]

The Beautiful Country and the Middle Kingdom

This is one of the most interesting nonfiction books I've read. It tied together everything else I have ever learned about China, from early American commerce there and early Chinese immigration here, to books like The Good Earth and The Joy Luck Club, to the rise of Mao and privatization of China's SOEs, referencing Henry Paulson, to history I actually remember surrounding Clinton, Bush & Obama's relationships with the country and environmental efforts. Wow! It would be impossible to write a recap of everything I learned from this book. It starts in 1776, when the US is a much more amenable trading partner to China than the Europeans who so staunchly assume and try to demonstrate superiority. The US helped China in the Opium Wars, though this was erased from their history books during the cultural revolution. We were a bit more absent when Japan was terrorizing the country and finally got involved after Pearl Harbor, but alliances with Britain and Russia won out over the desire to help China. Germany was more a focus than Japan, and even when the US did support China, it was so half-hearted that the dominant party (Chiang Kai Shek) had no chance against the Communist party later. Once they were allied that way, and of course in defiance of India, they started supporting all the future terrorist hotbed countries that made our relationship extremely strained. Most striking was how often we make exceptions for China, letting them get away with all kinds of human rights violations, for the sake of access to the giant market. It was really interesting how the two nations advanced one another and learned form each other. Also how many times their opinions of each other swung back and forth. There were times when we glorified the exoticism, work ethic, or even simple victimhood of China and other times when we demonized heathenish or Commie ways. Similarly, they worshiped the technology and industriousness of the US at times and alternately saw us as heathens too. Missionaries, for example, were allegedly harvesting body parts and raping children, but were revered for their medical expertise.  

[iamrodrigoov]

Abominable Heathenish Liquor - Women’s Petition Against Coffee #abominableheathenishliquor #thornwillowpress #thornwillowbroadsidelibrary #broadside #book #books #livro #livros https://www.instagram.com/rodrigoortiz/p/BvG_fvcgmsv/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1ivbz1pjnqcyr

[theritestuff-blog1]

Paper Wars: Shakespeare vs the Bible

In the 16th and 17th centuries, the production of Bibles expanded in response to market demand, and publishers looked to cut production costs in order to offer cheaper editions (or to increase profits). Often, this cost-cutting meant using cheaper paper, since paper was the single biggest expense in printing a book. Seventeenth-century readers were quite cognizant of the materiality of their books – and some of them were not happy about what they saw in the bookshop. While several writers complained in print about the quality of books and specifically bibles, perhaps the most agitated was the English lawyer and prolific Puritan pamphleteer William Prynne (1600-69).

In 1633, Prynne published a book he had been working on for over ten years. Histrio-mastix: the Player’s Scourge; or, Actor’s Tragedy [ Case V 18 .71 ] condemned dancing, drinking, Christmas, festivals (including wakes), sports, bonfires, maypoles, long hair on men, and much more. In particular, though, as one might guess from its title, the book railed against plays, theaters, and actors. On the title page of his book Pyrnne claimed to prove, “by divers Arguments,” that “popular stage-playes…are sinfull, heathenish, lewde, ungodly Spectacles, and most pernicious Corruptions; …as intolerable Mischiefes to Churches, to Republickes, to the manners, minds, and soules of men.” It is, one might imagine, a lot for the reader to take in.

In the opening pages of the book, Prynne does more than declare that plays were the “very plagues and poysons of mens minds and soules” – he complains that plays were printed on “farre better paper than most Octavo or Quarto Bibles, which hardly find such vent [sale] as they,” adding in the margin that Shakespeare’s plays were printed on “the best Crowne paper.”

He was also dismayed about the number of plays being produced (claiming that 40,000 had been printed in the last two years alone – most likely an exaggeration), and he notes: “Some play-books since I first undertook this subject, are growne from Quarto into Folio.” This, too, is specifically a reference to Shakespeare, whose plays were printed in folio first in 1623 and again in 1632. In battling the vice of the theater, Prynne took pains to point out that his book against stage plays had to be hefty to “assault such ample Play-house Volumes.” For Prynne, the bookshop was a battlefield for souls and Shakespeare was winning.

I had Prynne’s book on my initial checklist for the Newberry’s Creating Shakespeare exhibition, intending it for a section on Shakespeare during the English Civil Wars. Despite the fact that the Puritans disdained the theater, they often deployed Shakespeare in political tracts against Charles I, who read and annotated a folio edition of Shakespeare’s plays while imprisoned during the year leading up to his execution in 1649. In his pamphlet defending Charles’s execution, John Cook even asserts that if the king had “studied Scripture half so much … as Shakespeare” he might not have come to such an unfortunate end.

Sadly (although Prynne would have hated the idea of his book in an exhibition celebrating Shakespeare!), Prynne’s book was cut from the final exhibition. Therefore, when asked for ideas for our upcoming exhibition Religious Change and Print, 1450-1700, Histrio-mastix was one of the first books I suggested – a perfect embodiment, I thought, of religious change and changes in print culture. It showed how printing politics drove debates of secular vs religious culture. Alas, it did not make the final cut for Religious Change (admittedly, one of the most difficult things about curating an exhibition is cutting so many interesting books, many of which simply don’t display very well in a case).

Even though Histrio-mastix won’t be on display, it provides us with a window onto a mid-17th-century bookshop as experienced by a Puritan. How did religious works sit side by side with the plays, poems, and prose of the period? How was a reader supposed to find his or her way when confronted with so many other works that were bigger and prettier? It seems that even off-stage Shakespeare tempted readers away from God. Prynne’s book is a reminder that when we think about religion and print, we should not only think about what was printed, but how it was printed as well.

--Jill Gage, Custodian of the John M. Wing Foundation on the History of Printing and Bibliographer for British Literature and History at the Newberry Library