#R.F.Kuang

[bunnyandbooks]

Babel, Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution by R. F. Kuang

This book has been getting a lot of traction on social media so I was interested to read it. Very briefly (and for my own recollection later), it centers around a boy from Canton, orphaned by the plague, who is summarily rescued just on the cusp of death that claimed his family and brought to England by Professor Lovell to be trained in the art of translation, with the goal of getting admission to Oxford’s prestigious translation school, nicknamed “Babel.” In this world, the industrial revolution occurs through the globalization of languages, using the connotative gaps in translation of words to proliferate magical effects through the medium of silver, which means non-English kids like the boy, self-named “Robin,” are valuable. But as Robin grows up and wrestles with the inherent colonialism of Babel, he struggles with his own morals that both privileges him and enslaves him. Possible spoilers under the cut.

There’s a lot going on from the just the title -- you can pick this book up and guess it’s probably not going to end happy. Kuang isn’t exactly hiding the ball on what her thesis is, and the story hammers it home pretty clearly: violence is necessary to disrupt and challenge inherently racist institutions. This is the conclusion that Robin spends the entire 500 page novel coming to; the rebels championing a non-violent solution are killed; Robin’s former cohort, a white woman named Letty, who ostensibly champions changing the system from within is so unforgivable by the end of the book that nothing she says sounds credible -- a bit like Glinda in Wicked, if Glinda didn’t have any character development; the other white woman character in the book only finds redemption through death. There isn’t any room for compromise in Kuang’s book, but it’s also important to remember that a reconciliation story is now what she’s setting out to tell here.

Babel is inherently an allegory to government institutions that benefit from foreign assets and knowledge, who thrive off the exploitation of people, but are offended by the notion of such foreign nation and its people’s own sovereignty. The briefest reviews of any period of history can show scenarios that are applicable. And because Kuang is so learned and so brilliant, and is a skilled linguist and writer, she can weave an incredibly compelling narrative that explains the philology that forms the basis of the unique magic system in this book, while also expounding on the socio-economic ramifications of both colonialism and also domestic rebellion. While I agree with a lot of assessments that the pace is slow, I never once felt bored, and I credit to her strength as a writer.

I suppose if I have any complaints, the first was the lack of resolution. Even Les Miserables, which I kept thinking of throughout the third act, showed us the final defeat, with the townsfolk sadly picking up the pieces. We don’t know the result of the great last stand by the translators’ rebellion, and it feels rather unsatisfying. It also felt unfair that we get introduced to Victoire in the epilogue of the 500 page book, especially given that takes place of a true resolution. Couldn’t she at least have heard news? 

The second is related to the lack of compromise, I suppose. Robin and his cohorts are motivated to take down racist institutions largely because of loyalty to the motherlands from which they were stolen, and most characters don’t have any ties to those countries in the present day of the narrative. Instead of focusing on acting because it’s the right thing to do, it’s the idea that people of color, and I say this as a person of color, owe something to the land of our ancestors. Which does not account for people who are bi-cultural. And that solid line of a person of color only allowed to belong to one bothered me, though I again had to remind myself that Babel wasn’t that kind of story. So it was mostly about fighting my inherent biases, too.

[1arkspur-aconitum]

CHECKMATE (s.r.)

IN WHICH: Spencer bites off more than he can chew when he and Juniper sit down to play their first game of chess.

PAIRING: Season 3 Spencer Reid/Fem!BAU!OC

CATEGORY: fluff

CONTENT: pre-relationship flirting, teasing, suggestive language (they discuss strip-chess)

WORD COUNT: 3k

PUBLISHED: 28/09/24

‘I give up!’ Emily says from the back of the jet. It’s the first sound louder than a hushed whisper in the past few hours, and it echoes jarringly around the cramped space. ‘I don’t even know why I bother.’

I look up from my book–The Poppy War by R.F.Kuang–and blink a couple times in the fluorescent light. Dragged from my fantasy world, I realise my shoulder is sore. I guess that’s what you get for sitting smushed up against the plane window. Wincing, I watch as Emily clambers to her feet and tosses down her hand of cards. Even from this distance, I can tell she’s been losing–and losing bad. That’s always a sore spot with Emily.

The journey back from Wyoming is a good six hours, and the past three of them have been filled with almost-silence. Derek is spread out across the bench in front of me, headphones on, arm slung over his eyes to block out the brightness. Hotch and Rossi are exchanging quiet war stories in the seats closest to the bar. JJ is asleep, a forgotten martini balanced precariously on the edge of her table.

‘Aw, come on, Emily.�� Spencer wheedles, pulling a horde of peanut butter cups towards him with a sly grin. ‘I wasn’t hustling you that badly.’

‘I don’t even want to look at you right now.’ Emily says, shaking her head and stalking down the aisle. ‘Find someone else to swindle.’

‘But we were having fun.’ I can practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face. ‘Come on, I’ll go easy on you.’

‘I don’t think she wants to, Reid.’ I say, sticking my bookmark into place and stretching as I stand. Emily gives me a wry look as if to say ‘understatement of the year’, but I just quirk an eyebrow. I scootch my way out of the booth I’m in and glance down the fuselage to the good Doctor. ‘Hard luck.’

He’s busy wedging his hard-earned winnings into his pockets, but he spares enough time to give me a little pout, his bottom lip thrusting forward. His not-quite-long hair is tucked behind his ears, the ends of it curling up towards the sky. My chest tightens. There’s something so endearing about him that I have to look away.

‘Hey, Hops, why don’t you play a game with him?’ Emily suggests as I reach the bar, bumping her shoulder with mine. She’s in the middle of mixing herself what looks like a relatively complicated cocktail for 7pm in the evening. There’s even a small bowl of olives at her elbow. ‘You might actually be able to give him some competition.

‘I am not allowed to play poker.’ I say, pouring myself a small gin and tonic.

‘What do you mean, ‘not allowed to play poker’?’ Hotch says from my left, giving me his patented disapproving expression. Rossi is leaning back, beer in hand, a bemused smile on his face. My wince is not missed by either of them.

‘I mean exactly that.’ I grimace, swilling my drink and eyeing my new boss nervously. ‘My mother said that if I ever played a hand of poker again, she would cut off my pinky fingers, and she’s not lying–a scary woman, my mother.’

‘We don’t have to play poker.’ Spencer suggests, twisting his hands on top of the table. It’s not an anxious gesture, not like how it would be normally. It simply seems self soothing. A tick, or stim. His brown eyes sparkle. ‘We could play blackjack, or Go, and I’m pretty sure there’s a chess set here somewhere we could–’

‘I’ll play a game of chess.’ I suggest, starting to make my way down the aisle towards him. I take a sip of my drink to prepare myself for the next lie. ‘I’m not very good, but I’ll give it a go.’

‘Oo, are you sure?’ Emily says with a hiss, the sound of an olive plopping into her drink surprisingly satisfying. ‘He’s really good.’

Spencer’s neck flushes as he clambers to his feet, as graceful as a newborn giraffe. He can’t meet my gaze as he brushes crumbs off of his brown sweater vest. The fluorescent lighting casts deep shadows underneath the sharp cut of his cheekbones, plush lips parted in…shame? Concentration? Pride? He rubs the back of his neck as he reaches for the overhead compartment where we keep the board games.

‘It appears Dr. Reid is really good at everything, so I can’t exactly win, can I?’ I turn around to look at my friend, unable to watch as Spencer’s shirt rises just enough to expose a slit of skin across his hip.

‘At least you’re aware of your future.’ Emily chuckles to herself, but when she sees the slightly coy expression on my face, she understands. The corners of her lips jerk upwards for a split second before any trace of joy vanishes. She truly is an excellent actress. ‘I wouldn’t want to be you.’

‘It’s alright, I consign myself to my terrible fate.’ I sigh, plopping myself down in the space that Emily had just vacated. ‘Good afternoon, Dr. Reid. Please go easy on me.’

‘I’m surprised that you’re not very good at chess.’ Spencer is busy setting up the chessboard, elegant fingers deftly putting the pieces in place. After each is set down, he twists it so it’s facing the opposite line of warriors. He’s given me white. His sleeves are rolled back slightly, and I trace a thick vein with my eye over the rim of my glass. ‘Studies show that it boosts cognitive function and creativity, and is proven to exercise both sides of the brain–someone like yourself would probably benefit from all of those things.’

‘Someone like myself?’ I prop my elbows up onto the table, peering down as he finishes setting up the board. ‘What’s that meant to mean?’

‘What? No–no, I mean, chess–you have a doctorate, and you’re a polyglot, I mean, it seems like the intellectually stimulating game you might enjoy.’ Spencer’s neck turns red again, and he makes a conscious effort not to meet my amused gaze.

‘Hmm. No, see, I tend to find other things intellectually stimulating.’ I say, dropping my voice into a low, teasing purr. Spencer goes even redder, and swallows hard. Deciding to spare the boy, I continue. ‘I don’t know, it just wasn’t something I played a lot of.’

‘But you understand the basics?’

‘Yes, I understand the basics.’ I murmur with a scowl, taking another sip of my drink. I fold my legs underneath the table and eye him apprehensively. ‘You’re not gonna go easy on me at all, are you?’

‘Well…no. No, I’m not.’

‘The game will be over in mere seconds, then–what’s the fastest you’ve ever won a chess game?’

‘One minute and thirty four seconds.’ Spencer answers immediately, setting down his final black knight. ‘Though, the quickest game ever recorded between Masters was actually only four moves in 1968, where Lazard beat Gibaud in Paris. It was actually pretty cool, though there have been casual games that have only been a couple of moves each.’

‘Well, maybe you’ll have a chance to beat your time today.’ I sigh, taking another swig of my drink before inspecting the chess board. The palms of my hands are clammy, and I wonder if that’s because of the game or the man sitting opposite me.

‘I’m sure you won’t be that bad.’ Spencer reassures, but anyone would be able to catch the glimmer of teasing pleasure in his eye–as a profiler, it practically blinds me. ‘At least we’re not betting anything.’

‘Maybe I would bet my clothes,’ I say, picking up a pawn and moving it forward. The piece thuds satisfyingly on the wooden board. Spencer’s Adam’s apple bobs. ‘Perhaps you being distracted would give me an edge.’

‘I don’t think strip chess is a thing.’ He says, swiftly pushing a piece into play milliseconds after my fingers have left mine. Spencer can’t look at me, staring down at the checkerboard between us.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ I pick up the knight and move it into place, trying to seem a little more nervous than I actually am. ‘Anything can be made into a stripping game if you try hard enough.’

‘I don’t know if you could make Go a stripping game.’

‘Oh, sure–every time a piece gets captured, you take off an item of clothing.’ I grin up at him, admiring the focus he has as he pushes another pawn out of the main file. ‘Same goes for chess, except the more important the piece, the more important the item of clothing.’

‘Surely that would mean you’d have to take off a sock or something now.’ Spencer’s voice is tight as he takes one of my pawns, deftly handling the pieces. I nod at him, already moving my bishop out into the centre of the board. ‘You’re quite confident for someone who doesn’t know how to play chess…’

‘I never said I didn’t know how to play it.’ I retort, trying my best to remain impassive as he scrutinises my face. Eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, I swear he can hear the pounding of my heart. ‘I just said I wasn’t very good. And if I know I’m going to lose anyway, I may as well give it my all.’

‘Brave of you.’

‘Why, thank you.’ I scoff, leaning back in my seat and observing him more than the board. I swear it should be illegal to be that pretty–so structured, so in balance, even when his nose crinkles slightly as he thinks over his moves. He rubs his fingers absentmindedly down the sharpness of his jaw as he does so. I clench my thighs together.

Spencer scrutinises the board once more, and starts to play a little more aggressively. He’s clearly very well educated when it comes to chess, that much is certain, and moves pieces with a confidence I very rarely get to see in him. Truth be told, it’s actually very sexy. This is going to be dangerous.

‘It’s your move.’ His voice is taught, and when I look back down at the board, both of our pieces are equally distributed in a tense match. Spencer is leaning forward with his elbows on the table and a stray strand of hair flops into his face. I resist the urge to push it behind his ear.

I’ve managed to create a nice couple of protected squares around my king, figuring that if Spencer is as good as expected, the best offence is a good defence. Somehow I succeeded in making this look accidental, having given away a few unimportant pieces at the start, but now the net has been cast and I need to bait Spencer into it.

‘You’re surprisingly aggressive, Dr. Reid.’ I murmur, low enough that he’s the only one who can hear. My eyes are locked onto his, so I do not miss when he glances at me. His cheeks colour and he looks away. ‘Is this what a typical chess game with you is like?’

‘I don’t think I particularly have a ‘standard’ type of playing–I mean, yes, statistically, I play more aggressively in the middle parts of games, but it’s not so much of an increase that it should be considered a, a pattern or something.’

‘I kinda like this side of you.’ I say, sliding my rook into position. Go on. Take the bait. ‘It’s…interesting. Makes me wonder how much more there is to you, Spencer.’

‘There–there isn’t much…’ Spencer chokes a little, but does not end up taking the bait. Instead, he moves a rook into a better file. ‘I’m not much more than what you see.’

‘I seriously doubt that.’ I say, quickly taking a spare bishop with my own rook, popping the piece on my side of the board. Spencer leans back in his seat, but his eyes flicker to me once more. I take a drink, and gesture. ‘Perhaps we should play Go next. Really dig around in that big brain of yours.’

‘Why are you not allowed to play poker?’ Spencer deflects, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in a move that sends me reaching for my drink again.

‘I may or may not have started up a gambling society at the place my mum lives, and it may or may not have been the reason that we no longer have the first edition of a Margaret Atwood.’

‘You gambled a first edition Margaret Atwood?’ Spencer’s yelp is loud enough to draw the disapproving glances of Hotch and Rossi. He bobs an apology nod towards them before fixing an accusatory glare at me. ‘Dr. Juniper Bishop, how could you?’

‘I’m not proud of it.’ I sigh, wincing a little at the use of my full name. ‘In my defence, I had every intention of winning it back, and I would have if my mum hadn’t intervened.’

‘I can understand why you’re not allowed to play poker anymore.’ Spencer chuckles and absentmindedly makes a move I can tell he instantly regrets. His posture stiffens, and the glance he sends my way is anything but casual.

‘I’m allowed to deal poker, I just can’t play it.’ I lean forwards, running a hand through my hair and making a show of inspecting the board. The cold air from the fans above us brush across my bare shoulders and chest, pebbling the skin into a run of goosebumps. ‘Oh, and the same goes for Uno.’

Spencer doesn’t reply. Curious.

When I spare a glance from where I’m fiddling with the edge of the board, I can see why. Spencer is looking about five or six inches below my chin. The top I’m wearing is tight in the right places, accentuating the swell of my breasts. From where Spencer is sitting, he has the perfect view of my cleavage. His mouth is agape. I twist my smirk in an effort to hide it, using my free hand to rub my collarbone before trailing it down to press on my sternum. His eyes follow.

‘You should probably focus on the game, Spence.’

‘R–Right. Yes.’ He blinks a couple of times, as if waking up from a daydream. As usual, his cheeks flush, and he can’t look me in the eye. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s alright.’ I keep my tone even as I take the piece he misplaced, and the threads of his offensive strategy start to unravel. ‘It is easy to get distracted sometimes, huh.’

I can’t help but feel a little bad as the nettings of my trap tighten around him. His constructed offence starts to deconstruct before his very eyes. I don’t feel guilty because I’m winning, I feel guilty because I lied to get there–truth be told, I’m not that good at chess, but I do have a better understanding of it than most. My brother, Ash, and I would play a lot when we were children, and I enjoy the methodical nature of it. The considerate way you have to play. Plus, I do kind of want to beat Spencer at a game once.

‘Alright there, Mister Genius?’ I try (and fail) to keep the laughter out of my voice.

To his credit, it has been a close game, but a few mistakes on both our parts has lengthened it out. He’s down to a few key pieces, where I have a little bit more canon fodder to do damage with. Spencer’s slumped in his seat with a hand over his mouth. I can practically hear the cogs turning in his brain. His beautiful brown eyes are narrowed.

‘Yeah…yeah. It’s just…interesting.’ He says from behind his fingers. He moves a piece, and I can’t help the small smile appear when I spot what I can do next. Unfortunately for me, Spencer clocks it. ‘What do you see?’

‘Check in two.’

‘What?’

‘Oh, wait–checkmate.’ I slide my queen across the board, effectively trapping his king in a corner. That move was accidental, and if he hadn't asked me what I saw, I wouldn’t have seen it at all. Knowing Spencer, if he hadn't asked, the game would have dragged on for a while. Spencer fixes a wide, suspicious look on me. ‘Something wrong, Dr. Reid?’

‘I–uh, well…I didn’t expect to lose.’ He admits, showing me the palms of his hands. Spencer slumps back into his seat and drags his hand through his hair. I bite my lip to resist the urge to grin even more. ‘Well played, Dr. Bishop, well played.’

‘You didn’t expect to lose against me?’

‘I have a feeling you know more about chess than you’re willing to let on.’

‘A lady never reveals her secrets.’ I wink at him, picking up the elegantly carved bishop and twiddling it between my fingers. ‘Does make sense though, I am effectively named after one of the pieces.’

‘Did you swindle me?’

‘Did you go easy on me?’ I know the answer to the question already–he definitely did. There’s no way that was him playing at full capacity. Not this fucking genius, who knows way too much information for his own good, who could probably (most definitely) recite to me the final matches in all of the Grandmaster chess games.

‘Maybe.’

‘Then I’ll say the same to you: maybe I swindled you. Embellished the truth, perhaps.’

‘So you admit to cheating?’ Spencer says, a sly grin spreading across his face. He straightens up in his seat and rests his chin on steepled fingers. ‘I knew it.’

‘I didn’t cheat, per say. All the moves were legal.’ I scoff, rolling my eyes playfully. I copy his motion, mirroring him as I set my own chin on my hands. ‘Just a little…misdirection, if you will.’

‘Well, I suppose that’s fair.’ Spencer concedes, corner of his mouth twitching upwards. Underneath the table, my foot brushes his. ‘You are a profiler after all. It is in your nature to deceive.’

‘And you’re a genius,’ I counter, cocking my head. ‘It’s in your nature to overthink.’

‘Touché.’ Spencer chuckles, a low rumbling sound that I swear could reverberate through me. ‘So…what now?’

‘Huh?’ I blink, breaking the pose to take a sip of my drink. It burns deliciously on the way down. I don’t miss how Spencer’s eyes linger on my lips. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I lost the game.’ Spencer leans backwards again, fingers going to his tie. He loosens it in a motion that makes my mouth water. There’s a hard to read expression on his face, one that leaves me unbalanced–or maybe that’s the gin. ‘Traditionally, losers of games have to do something, like a forfeit or challenge.’

‘How about a rematch, Reid?’

‘A rematch?’ Spencer repeats, raising an eyebrow curiously. ‘Are you sure?’

‘What can I say?’ I murmur, licking my lips as I spin the board around. ‘I’m feeling lucky.’

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! MORE SPENCER REID FICS ON THE WAY.

[pseudowho]

hellooo Haitch, how are you ? Wanted to drop by and tell you that I enjoyed rereading some Nanami pieces from you now that you've been reblogging them with new headers Also wanted to ask you 2 things : 1. Tips for becoming a better writer ? As in how to improve flow, narration, description (without becoming overbearing), how to make characters more human and less unidimensional 2. Favourite books you've recently read and that you'd recommend ? i've been rereading old favourites like Lolita and the Catcher in the Rye and I desperately need something new :( Thanks a looot

Hiii! I'm having a hard week. It's my grandmother's funeral tomorrow, and I'm horribly afraid. I'm getting by, though. Thanks for asking 💕

TIPS FOR BECOMING A BETTER WRITER:

Read more, and read-- I cannot stress this enough-- challenging and variable material. Difficult books. Classics. Crappy chick-flicks. News articles. Thrillers, romances, murder mysteries, philosophy books, fantasy books. Research pieces. All of them add to the reference library in your mind than you can use to compare to. These all help with flow, narration, description, because they all give you styles of writing to imitate.

Onomatopoeia is your friend. Not just, in individual words (crash, plop, honk!) but in sentence structure. Someone who is angry but calm may sound staccato, crisp-- their words, their sentences, should snip accordingly. You're describing a slow-flowing river? Languid, lazy, loose and fluid rolling sounds bring it to mind.

Trust your reader. Show them, don't tell them. If your setting is a coffee shop, with bright yellow walls, sunflowers outside, and wonderful coffee that always wakes them up, at their favourite table by the window? Don't TELL them the coffee shop is that way. Show them through the way your character interacts with their environment. For example: "Kento's hands grazed those sunny petals, always reminding him, curiously, of a Van Gogh piece his grandmother displayed in his childhood. Stepping into the shop, blinded by the sunshine splashed on the walls and the earth-roast aroma, he spotted his regular table overlooking the street, still free; his barista seemed to have anticipated his arrival, sliding his drink to the front of the queue with a smile." See? The story is moved along AND the reader can picture the environment. Trust them to see the things you infer, without having to DIRECTLY SAY "the walls are yellow, there were sunflowers outside, and this was Kento's regular coffee shop". Capiche?

Some idiot once said to keep everything to the point. Whilst this is true, to some extent, your words choices should be luxurious, in that there is ALWAYS the perfect word for a mood, a smell, a taste, a touch, a feeling. Each word you choose being just so makes a story feel rich and flavoursome. The fact is, if you are struggling to describe something and you find yourself piling sentence after sentence of almost correct words...leave it. Come back when the correct word is there.

If you Selfship, SELFSHIP HARDER-- talk to these people in your head. Build scenarios with them. Savour their reactions and their responses, don't see them through rose-tinted lens either. Cross-reference them with people you know, people you HAVE KNOWN, find the perfect words to describe them to other people.

Empathise harder. Empathy is the core of understanding someone's character. Walk a mile in their shoes. It helps, trust me.

FAVOURITE STUFF I'VE READ LATELY:

I adore Natasha Pulley's "The Watchmaker of Filigree Street" and its sequel "The Lost Future of Pepperharrow". The Ben Aaronovitch "Rivers of London" series is also excellent. If you want a great atmospheric, beautifully perfect scene-setting ghost story, go for "The Haunting of Hill House" by Susan Hill. "Pachinko" (I can't recall the author and I'm away from my bookshelf) is another favourite of mine. "The Poppy War" is the first in a trilogy by R.F.Kuang, and although it was her debut novel and there are traces of immaturity there, she is blossoming and I genuinely threw the second book across the room at one point because the angst and plot-twists hit me so hard.

Phew.

I'm no professional writer, so these are just my thoughts.

Mr Haitch lectures in English Literature and Creative Writing, so the "trust your reader" is one that he offered.

Good luck, thanks for thinking I'm good enough to advise you on this.

-- Haitch xxx

[sonics-atelier]

Reading the Poppy War By R.F.Kuang Rn and I'm already on chapter 10, its so damn good.

[veenvss]

THE DRAGON REPUBLIC

r.f.kuang 15/05/24-17/05/24

some thoughts :

devastating.

The way that Baji and Ramsa bantered it was very easy for me to forget that Ramsa is near enough the same age as Kesegi. I think Rin forgot that herself, the way that she still thought of Kesegi as a child and Ramsa as... Ramsa. The first round missed him and he was still laughing :( he was just a child.

the Cike in general was devastating. All of them but Altan started the book and then Chaghan and Rin were the only ones who were left. We never even learn what happened to Unegen and Enki. However, the implications from Chapter 11... Chaghan has some explaining to do. Feylen still trying to get through during his fight with Rin is so sad. He never wanted his fate. I hope his death brought him peace.

the treatment of Venka and the entire interaction in Chapter 28 is so sad. "It's happened before."

the treatment of the refugees as well. They were the victims of everything and yet they were treated like scrounging animals. The victims of a rich man's war fr.

Chen Kitay. he is his own point.

...

It's gonna be a while until I read The Burning God because it means going to town and I don't have the time with exams to do that :(( maybe tuesday? but that doesn't give a hint as to when I'll finally finish this series.

maybe one day i'll do an in-depth talk-through of this book but i spent half the morning going through and tabbing every death in the book so I need a break from it for a while. i'm also only posting this to stop it from clogging my drafts because i have so much stuff in there it's getting deadly.

[fractalkiss]

agreed to read r.f.kuang with a friend and I'm already annoyed 2 pages in

[tiny-dreamer]

I wanted to start reading dark academia. So, I picked up Babel ,which is my first book by R.F.Kuang.

And, now I am 50% in and I am having a breakdown 😭😭😭, and an existential crisis. Like starting with Babel may be the stupidest decision.

Now, I need courage to finish the book and to go through all the betrayals and heartbreaks that I sense coming.

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of a commonplace book

saturday, jan 27, 2024

*brennan lee mulligan voice* heeeeeeeelllllllllllllloooooooOOOOOOOOO one and all and welcome back for another thrilling episode of...whatever this is. thank you for being here.

It's 2024! Say hi, intrepid heroes!

reading recently finished:

-orwell's roses by rebecca solnit (audio) - glad I listened, ultimately very gratifying - history, criticism, extremely lush garden-filled prose and love for growing things - nona the ninth by tamsyn muir - felt so much about [redacted] it made me cry. i can unblock ALL THE TAGS NOW - the blue sword by robin mckinley (audio) - catching up on old school fantasy continues -when the angels left the old country by sacha lamb (audio) - beautiful. not not in conversation with good omens but doing something different.

recently begun: -the ministry of the future by kim stanley robinson - can't decide if it's a scifi novel or a policy brief about ways to combat climate change- reading on my mom's recommendation -babel: an arcane history by r.f.kuang - withholding judgment, but i know you probably want me to hate it and so far i don't, really! to my own surprise -the shadow of the wind by carlos ruiz zafrón (audio) - spooky, post-modern but incredibly good at sounding like it is of the time it depicts. many thoughts on the audio book narrator's accent work, most favorable -one corpse too many by ellis peters. wild that i have only just begun reading the cadfael mysteries

listening last week was about discovering and putting on continuous loop the group trousdale on the recommendation of @m2pixie (!) and other trusted friends; the energy, the harmonies! they fill a girl group void i didn't realize i had, it feels like the best kind of throwback, like old chicks or something, some desperately needed bops. exhibit a: bad blood.

today my daylist introduced me to joy oladokun and i'm so glad it did. love her vibe, love this cover art. had to take a picture of my desk, the visuals were so satisfying.

watching the newest series of netflix's lupin!! so far i'm really, really enjoying where this season has been spending most of its time-- the new characters, the new heists, the new stakes. especially fun to watch with friends where we can all shout about the mrs doubtfire of it all, the betrayals, the misdirection, the 'he can't keep getting away with this!.' the original lupin series will always bring back memories of watching it in early lockdown; i'm glad that there's this now to think about and remember instead.

playing hollow knight hollow knight hollow kniiiiiiight. bought it a few months ago when it was on sale, after hanging out and watching @dimir-charmer stream for us a bit, but playing it yourself is a different game. i'm having a blast. it's becoming a problem. i'm having to be so so good and mature in how much i let myself just get suckered in to a full day spent in my little buggy maze adventures. the temptation to keep going until i've made a meaningful advancement of some kind (today: got the longer nail! last time: beat hornet! saved zote the mighty, got the baldur shell charm, and beat the gruz mother!) is very, very real. have also gotten around this by listening to lots of lo-fi hollow knight beats to relax and study to while being 'productive.'

(found this screenshot online, and holy extra health batman)

making pancakes. lots and lots of weekend pancakes. sent a bunch of mail since new year's, and have some new arts and crafts (charcoal pencils!! those little paper cone blender guys! better paper) to fuck around with next time i want to get ~artistic. watch this space.

working on teaching is so all-consuming. it's great, i love it. the course (maps class! if you see that tag, this is that) is going well, i think! first three lectures down. the students i've gotten to know i really like, the material has yet to get old (see one - do one - teach one is so real. i understand this class now, finally, in a way i don't think i did just being the TA, even after three times). it takes so much longer to just copy-paste-change color and font on slides than it should! i've regularly been getting four-five hours of sleep on monday nights before teaching on tuesdays, but it has meant that i don't have the brain space to be self-conscious while i'm 'on', i just. go. having fun selecting teaching 'fits, having (less) fun handling all the students who joined in the second or third week and need help with catching up, but it's not their fault there was a waiting list and lots of turnover.

(petrus roselli - portolan chart of the mediterranean, 1466)

non-teaching: - student letter of recommendation for dental school (DONE) - conference panel proposal (due 1/31) -submit revised conference paper for that prize (due 1/30) -send draft of grant application to A for her to be able to write a letter of recommendation (due IMMEDIATELY WHY ARE YOU ON TUMBLR) (you have until 2/15 to fix it but she needs the draft!) -chapter 3 edits (lmao) -read for that other course you're meant to be the TA for (oops) - give i. feedback on her thing (tonight) -RAship hours (c'mon these are actually paid work, please do them)

[burningthetree]

for the writing ask!

politely requesting numbers: 2, 4, 13, 21, 30, 31, 45, (i'm always looking for stuff to read) 66

i know this is so many lol i'd love to hear them all btu pick and choose ones you'd like to answer!

love you 4ever <3

Hi love! Ask and ye shall receive <3 under the cut because I ramble, I love you <3

2. A notable time a narrative / character has looked me dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing”

Either one of my long fics to be honest. When I started writing fmn, it was supposed to be a 10k one-shot and turned into a 150k monster. When I started writing s&w, it was supposed to be 50k, and we’re at 124k and I’m halfway through now. In fmn, I blame Bokuto. In s&w, I blame Kuroo and Iwaoi, because they introduced these ridiculous side-plots that were never meant to be there. And in s&w, I also blame Atsumu, because turns out that he’s more fun to write than I originally thought. They all raised their middle fingers at me and are so mean actually

4. the plot bunny I’ve been carrying for the longest? Bonus: Do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential regret?

Mmm I think that would be my high fantasy idea? I’ve had it since I was 13-ish but I don’t think I’ll ever end up writing it. I do think about why I keep ignoring it, but I think it’s just because it’s an intimidating genre, though it makes me sad that this holds me back from trying. (I did start drafting a fictional language and its grammar, but got stuck while working on my thesis.) The deep existential regret is there for sure :)

13. A writing experience that has pleasantly surprised me

I’ve been doing some original writing lately, and I have a submission for a student magazine that got accepted. I had to work together with an editor and send my draft back and forth to work on it and I was dreading it—it’s so jarring to send your writing to someone and them editing it. But it was the loveliest experience I could have ever asked for, and I am so glad I was brave and send in an idea that they ended up accepting. That being said, I also have my most recent writing experience where I’m actually working towards a deadline to have it published (and available for judgement from a jury and also available for purchase?). It’s been really scary IMO but, after writing my first three chapters, my best friend read them and gave me feedback, while my other friends encouraged me to do it. And it’s just so lovely to finally manage to be open about me being passionate about writing and having my friends be so lovely and supportive :)

21. A writer to co-write a book with and what we’d write about

Honestly my favourite author is R.F.Kuang and in my dreams, we are working on a novel together. I don’t know what we’d write about, but I think we would have a similar passion across genres as well as an affinity for linguistics, and I think we’d make a neat team. I’d also learn so much from here so that would be pretty cool overall. In terms of fanfiction writers, I’d write something with you Cat :) it’d be a Romeo and Juliet x Haikyuu crossover

30. Most inspirational quote I’ve ever read / heard that is still important to me

From R. F. Kuang’s Babel: “That’s just what translation is, I think. That’s all speaking is. Listening to the other and trying to see past your own biases to glimpse what they’re trying to say. Showing yourself to the world, and hoping someone else understands.” It’s just. Yummy.

As a teenager, this one meant a lot to me, and it still comes to mind for each time someone asks me for a quote: “Broken is not the same as unfixable.” From Marissa Meyer’s Lunar Chronicles.

45. Name of three of my favourite fanfic writers

Since you’re asking for writing recommendations, I guess I won’t name you -_- in Haikyuu, it’s CheCheCheer, daydreamer1227, eldureira. THIS IS DIFFICULT. I’m trying not to name the ones that show up in like every rec list lol

66. When I have felt the most confident in my writing

I think that is each time my friends read something I write and then they tell me their honest opinion, which is usually positive. And like, I trust my friends to be completely honest with me and tell me if something is garbage. So that is always a big confidence boost. Also, a long, long time ago when I was 10 years old, we had creative writing workshops in school, and my teacher complimented my writing and told me that I was good at it. Getting approval from him and a couple of other teachers as well as encouragement really meant a lot, and I don’t think I would have continued writing as much if I didn’t have this memory to fall back on :)

[yoddhasblog]

This might just be the best thing I've read in a while. The Poppy War trilogy is a grimdark fantasy trilogy. It draws parallels with Chinese history, mainly the Sino-Japanese war and the politics with Western powers. The plot throughout the books remained strong with the characters developing in somehow both ways, upwards and downwards, in my opinion. It doesn't shy away from showing the brutalities and heartlessness of wars. Not just on the battlefield but on civilian grounds too. The characters, oh the characters, were some of the most well-developed characters I've read in a while.

This post will be mostly about the characters because they're the main part of books that I focus on. That's not me saying anything bad about the writing because it's R.F.Kuang, the woman is brilliant. The constant presence throughout the three books was of, obviously, our main character,

Fang Runin

“I will die with flames in my hand and fury in my heart."

Fang Runin, nicknamed and mostly called Rin, starts off in the first book as a sixteen-year old girl desperate to escape the looming threat of an arranged marriage with a man about three times her age. She prepares for and aces an entrance exam to an elite military academy. Upon reaching there, realises that just getting into the academy won't do. She needs to survive and thrive in a place where everyone seems to have it out for her based on the colour of her skin. The elite students look down on her for being from the south of their nation. It's basically colorism and racism. But Rin isn't going to let that go. She studies hard, beats up an elite student, burns off her uterus, and awakens the power of gods in her. She turns out to be one of the only two survivors of a dead nation. She calls a god that grants her the power of fire with an addicting hunger to destroy. She gets thrown in a battle before even finishing her academy years. Calls the power of her god and single handedly wins the battle.

But that wasn't going to be the end for her, was it? She fights enough battles that they become a habit for her. She refuses to bow to her opponents, no matter the cost at stake. She becomes a legend that leaves a legacy of destruction in its wake.

Rin is quick to anger, initially prone to trust the wrong people, later becomes too paranoid to trust anyone, goes from a girl scared of the power coursing through her, fearing that she'd lose her mind, but couldn't deny the rush of power and became addicted to it, she is resilient and determined, whether it be about being good at studies or at winning battles. She is willing to sacrifice almost anything in order to achieve her goals. She turns out to be a little naive and a lot like a lost child looking for gaurdians to trust and follow. Those people always let her down. By the end of the last book, Rin, who was pretty much resigned to the fact that she would slowly lose her mind to the hunger of her god, does actually end up becoming what she didn't desire in the beginning. She progressively falls into a pattern of destruction and wars that she couldn't let go off. Her dependence on the power rush and her paranoia develops to such an extent that she realises that she couldn't live like that but also couldn't let go of it. All things said, one of the most well-written female characters in the books published in recent years. I like her because she is traditionally unlikeable and monstrous. She's one of those characters that makes you sad that if she was in different more peaceful circumstances then she could've had a better life.

Chen Kitay

"Power dictates acceptability."

The above photo taken from pinterest explains my feelings completely when it comes to Kitay. The strategic genius with a photogenic memory, Rin's conscience with a strong moral compass, she proposes the plans and he follows her and even when at some point everyone around Rin betrayed her or let her down, he stuck by her. I, just like Rin, would protect Kitay with my life. Rin's character may have gone through a corruption arc but Kitay's character remained steadily stable. He was Rin's voice of reason. A genius meant to be a scholar, who excelled at statesmanship and administration. If you doubt how much I love him, please look at the above given photo.

Yin Nehza

"She’s the only divine thing he’s ever believed in. The only creature in this vast, cruel land who could kill him. And sometimes, in his loveliest dreams, he imagines she does."

Nezha, you little bitch(kind of lovingly). Starting off as a racist bully who got beat within an inch of his life by Rin, Nezha grew on me. If Rin, Kitay and Nezha were on the same side of the war, they would've been unstoppable. Their parallels with the trifecta could've been seen from a mile ago. Nezha and Rin loved each other like Daji and Riga but it was doomed from the start. The Drowning Faith and the snippets from the other books that were from Nezha's pov were great to read. It really puts Nezha's behaviour in perspective. The son that was usually treated with indifference by his father, his mother's intolerance to even look at him for a year after his brother's demise, losing a cherished baby sibling, older siblings hateful treatment, all that but still feeling duty bound to fulfil their ambition. Compelled to support and fight for their cause despite witnessing the destruction brought by it. Even with their nation falling around them, keeping a hope for its better future. Though, regardless of foreign relations and diplomacy and stuff, I really wanted him to punch some imperialists and as Rin said, to have some pride. He loved Rin but also recognized that she is too far gone in bloodshed. I hated how their story ended but it was objectively the best way to complete it.

Spring Venka

"Sring Venka was a prim, spoiled Sinegardian princess turned lethal soldier turned brittle survivor; of course she’d walk into a war zone with red paint on her lips simply because she felt like it."

Venka, my goddess, my main girl, the love of my life. After starting the first book I didn't think I would like her at all. But her character has now latched onto me in a way I think is unhealthy. She is a warrior. She is a survivor. She alongside Rin castrated two men left them to die with their penises in their mouths for attempting to SA a girl. She is an absolute icon. Her snapping at people, giving blunt replies, re-training her archery, staying allied with Rin and Kitay until the end, even though her allegiance at the very end is a matter of question but still, I'm not stopping thinking about her for a long time.

So, that was all. This trilogy was R.F.Kuang's debut books and she fucking nailed it. I had previously read her Babel: An Arcane History, so I had already known I would absolutely love this one too. She has a way to balance the emotional side of the story very efficiently to the dark one. She is extremely talented when writing books with heavy themes like oppression, slavery, racism, colonization, etc as seen in multiple of her books. I'd always look forward to her books.

[theink-stainedfolk]

Book recs.

[theone]

Annie's 2024 books

January:

Eric by Terry Pratchett ☆☆☆

Babel, Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution by R.F.Kuang ☆☆☆

February:

The Parisian by Isabella Hammad ☆☆☆☆

God Emperor of Dune (Dune #4) by Frank Herbert ☆☆☆☆

March:

Heretics of Dune (Dune #5) by Frank Herbert ☆☆☆☆

April:

The Titan's Curse (Percy Jackson and the Olympians #3) by Rick Riordan ☆☆☆☆

The Battle of the Labyrinth (Percy Jackson and the Olympians #4) by Rick Riordan ☆☆☆

My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry by Fredrik Backman ☆☆☆☆

May:

The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians #5) by Rick Riordan ☆☆☆☆

Chapter House Dune (Dune #6) by Frank Herbert ☆☆☆

June:

Guardians of the Galaxy by Abnett & Lanning: The Complete Collection, Vol. 1 ☆☆☆

Guardians of the Galaxy by Abnett & Lanning: The Complete Collection, Vol. 2 ☆☆☆

The Judge's List by John Grisham ☆☆

July:

The Scar by China Miéville ☆☆☆

[learningisfundamental]

Tasks I would like to complete while on vacation (27/8-03/9):

1. read and take notes from chapter 3 of ''The Social Genesis of Emotions; A study of Karpathos''

2. finish reading "Babel" by R.F.Kuang

3. read "Caravaggio" by Ruth Dangelmaier

4. start reading "Ethics" by Benedict Spinoza

5. swim everyday

6. meditate for at least 10 minutes each day

7. journal at least 3 times