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lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 2 years ago

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how do all the lackadaisy characters react to getting sick/how do the handle the situation. Thanks!! :3c

Lumping these two asks together as they are the same request. Ask and ye shall receive! (A collaborative effort between multiple of our authors as it does involve the whole cast.)

ROCKY

Sick? What do you mean sick. In his over twenty-two years of living thus far he's never been sick once. He has the immune system of a titan, what are you talking about.

Questions he whilst leaning heavily on the bar counter for support lest he is knocked to the ground in a feverish pile by this sudden earthquake that apparently no one else is noticing like seriously you guys shouldn't we evacuate the place?!

In his defense, he's right about one thing: illness seems to avoid him as prevalently and miraculously as death itself. He could get stuck in the rain, take cold mud baths, sleep outside in winter snow, hug someone with Spanish flu, taste the pavement of a rat-infested alley and drink raw sewage and still come out of it all fit as a fiddle.

(Whether he carries anything is a different question, though with the various microorganisms inside him he seems to live in an overwhelmingly peaceful coexistence.)

But every rule has exceptions. And since he frequently does end up in all those situations, when once a millennium he comes down with something it's hard to tell the cause.

How he handles it can be summed up in a short answer of: he doesn't. He refuses to acknowledge it until he's physically incapacitated. If asked about it he keeps insisting that he's fine, a-okay, dandy as can be, never has existed a more invigorated healthy young man on Earth. At best he may invent a perfectly unconvincing excuse, like allergies acting up. (Inside underground caves. In winter. When he's never been allergic to anything in his entire life.)

Aside from perhaps unsuccessfully forbidding him from causing more grievous disturbances than usual, people usually opt to just leave him to it, because once he's set his mind on being "fine" logical reasoning and sound advice are only breath wasted. Ever well-intentioned, Mitzi still tells him to get some rest every now and then, yet keeps stumbling into the boy as he's fumbling through whatever that unresting intent has currently possessed him to be doing.

This wouldn't be such an issue with, say, a cold, because regardless of his masochistic eagerness for activity it inevitably does pass, but if it's something that necessitates any amount of bedrest... well, good luck.

For one he hasn't really a place to rest. I mean... there's the car. No one but Ivy at the Lackadaisy seems to know he technically lives in there, and he's not too enthusiastic to disclose it himself; besides anywhere else actually suitable, like in Mitzi's apartment, he'd just feel like a capital nuisance.

But let's suppose a scenario with the ideal location and someone who cares enough to stick by and ensure he actually does stay put. Shouldering such a responsibility, they must be prepared for a minimum of two things.

For one: he's going to be even more unbearably talkative than usual. Because what else is there left for a restless spirit if the flesh is restrained? Nothing but to complain and lament and versify and prattle on incessantly about whatever comes careening hither along a changeful stream of consciousness. Albeit unwittingly, driving others insane with his aimless rambling is how he keeps himself... well, something.

It's like if his mind had to stop running at maximum speed for just a few minutes it would promptly crash for good. Which, for all we know, may really be the case.

(This is just my two cents, but: I think giving him drawing implements and a coloring book or just plain paper might keep him very nicely occupied, as well as relatively quiet. Be sure to provide plenty of paper though, if you don’t want him to start drawing on other things not meant to be drawn on when the supply runs out like an unsupervised kid... unless you welcome the idea of your walls and furniture being covered in doodles.)

The other, possibly more arduous challenge is keeping him inside the room in the first place. Not understanding nor agreeing with his special treatment largely experienced as imprisonment on his end, he seizes each arising opportunity to attempt to weasel away somehow.

And he's a trained escape artist.

Watch him closely but look away for even a second, and you'll find no trace of him left in the room when you look back. Lock him in there, he'll pick the lock in a pinch - or attempt the window, which depending on the floor number may carry various levels of risk. Tie him down (because you're getting desperate by now) and you're likely to stumble into him minutes later by the front door, having already wriggled his way out. Doesn’t matter which knot was used, he knows most of them by heart. (And even if he didn’t happen to, he’s resourceful enough.)

Like I’ve said before, he perseveres in resisting his confinement for as long as he's capable of moving his limbs around and some vague semblance of coherent thought. Even with his brains cooking with delirium one may have to rescue him as he's crawling along on the floor dragging with him the tangle of blankets he was last left swaddled in, not entirely clear on what direction he's headed but by all means dedicated.

He's not above manipulation either, in order to divert his warden’s attention or make them relinquish his firm supervision rooted in concern for his well-being. Because it's not like he's concerned about it; so why should anyone else be? In addition he's unshakably certain that his role in the Lackadaisy's rumrunning force as well as there in general is absolutely vital and requires that he always be available for employment regardless of if he’s even in a proper state for it. (Just look at the latest comic arc, for crying out loud.)

But psst. Here's a little personal tip, for (Y/N) specifically. If reasonable advice hits deaf ears, and cuffing him to a bedpost yields little results other than another mildly baffling escape attraction, there remains one other thing to try with better chances of success... a more hands-on approach, if you catch my drift.

(Cuddling. I'm talking about cuddling. If you've got a good grip on this string bean of a man he is certainly not going anywhere so long as you're vigilant. Doing so, of course, means risking your own health, which he won't fail to coyly point out either; but he'll otherwise put up minimal resistance and ultimately cave in because God knows he’s touch deprived and doesn't get held enough otherwise. Well, by not enough I mean not at all, ever. But that's exactly why it's a good thing you're here, isn't it?)

Overall, as amusing of a story collection to recount as his commonly absurd ailing escapades might provide later down the line, the fact that they very rarely happen is no doubt for the best. He engages in enough troublesome shenanigans as is.

FRECKLE

Surprisingly pragmatic about it. Yep. He's getting symptoms. Looks like he contracted something.

Best be careful about it... mostly because Nina wouldn't allow him running himself ragged anyhow.

Along with other moral virtues he's had honesty drilled into him from kittenhood. And although it's not always an option in... other matters... he's upfront about how he's feeling physically if not much else, and eventually does come to terms with it. (Once he’s confirmed with certainty that it’s not just the general nauseated feeling he gets whenever he thinks too deeply about his “work” nowadays.)

He doesn't want to infect other people, or incur the stern concern of his mother, so at the very least he stays around the house, doing small, mostly undemanding chores. He's aware it's not expected of him nor recommended, but he has a bit of restlessness to him too.

Mostly because, were it bad enough to confine him to bed in a blanketed bundle of suffering incarnate, all he'd be able to think about is that God's wrath finally caught up with him for being a horrible person and this was part of his rightful punishment. Even worse if he got a nasty fever; it's like he's already burning in Hell.

Distractions may be scarce, but if he's been told off from chores for sneezing on the washing-up or exhausting himself with much too overzealous hammering, he opts to read instead. Over the years he's amassed quite the collection of books, renowned classics and youth literature, and most of them still give off the fluttering remnants of a good kind of nostalgia when flipping through the pages.

And besides, immersing himself in someone else's story is far more pleasant than fretting over his own current predicaments.

Some company, from a safe distance of course, will do him wonders as well. Nina is not the most conversational woman around, and aside from checking on him regularly and ensuring his wellbeing they don't make much meaningful contact.

Rocky likely pops in from time to time however, forever enthused to just run his mouth for as long as allowed, and although he may get a bit too bombastic for Calvin's comparative lack of vitality sometimes he appreciates the distraction more than he's able to express it. And, believe it or not, it's not entirely one-sided either. Rocky has developed a keen sense for his quiet cousin's intent to contribute and will more than gladly listen to what he has to say.

He’ll also forward Ivy’s wishes for Calvin to get well soon as she’s just dying to be able to meet with him at the speakeasy again. (Definitely also attaches a teasing remark or two to the message.) Then he’s eventually ushered out by Nina and as soon as his hasty goodbyes are swallowed by the outdoors Calvin finds himself missing the noise already.

The paralyzed stillness of being sick gets to him a lot more than it shows… seeing as it leaves him a little too alone with his own mind. So he sinks into the comfort of old books until he’s incapacitated by a headache and sore eyes, and diligently rakes those seven leaves that had gathered across the back lawn since he last attended to them two hours before, and lingers outside in the garden until warmer hues overtake a sun-painted sky and the evening chill starts to bite, taking in all things green and alive and in motion to remind himself that he’s not a walking corpse. Not yet, anyway.

Due to his mom’s supervision as well as his own eagerness to follow instructions in order to escape his personal limbo as soon as possible, he does tend to recover fairly fast; and he’s a pretty hardy young lad, thank goodness, so it’s all quite uncommon of an ordeal. In short it’s back to the ol’ grindstone in a jiffy; you know, the kind of grindstone that pulverizes mortal lives and churns out dripping blood.

But hey, best not stop and mull over it too long.

IVY

Oh, it's a nightmare for her.

You mean she can't go out in the evenings anymore? Can't go shopping with friends? Can't procure booze with her criminal coworkers? Can't attend dates with her cute new boyfriend? (Well, those last two are one and the same, really.)

These are all vital activities for a young woman like her to pursue! What else is she supposed to do? Rot in her room and steer clear of all fun whilst everyone else keeps going on with their lives?!

Some flimsy cold is nowhere near enough to keep her away from the beloved Lackadaisy. She can still man the café counter with a little sniffle (taking care to sneeze on no one's food) or look absolutely gorgeous on the dancefloor decked in glimmering pearls and feathers with a slightly paler constitution. But if it's bad enough that she simply must stay put...

During classes the still life of an empty dormitory fills with upbeat contemporary tunes from her bedstand radio as she lies upon crumpled bedsheets, clad in her prettiest pajamas, surrounded by an almost ritualistic circle of tissues and magazines whilst flipping through one of the latter with her legs girlishly dangling in the air. This is likely the scene any visitors are greeted by as well.

She looks like she's coping rather well... until verbal contact ensues and she begins her long string of complaints about how she's feeling utterly miserable. Runny nose, sore throat, grating cough, an unshakable sense of fatigue and she can't even go anywhere! Her classmates are off studying or having fun themselves (as well as deliberately avoiding contact with her for obvious reasons), and she's got nothing to look at but patterned wallpaper and pictures of pretty clothes she currently can't even visit the boutiques for.

But once the grievances are shared she promptly guides the spotlight in their direction, upon which they are to share every last bit of information and news about all most recent ongoings in the world of the healthy. It is a requirement (she will not let them go until they oblige), but also an opportunity; they're welcome to spill the beans on how their week has been and any noteworthy things that happened to them and also to just chat with her about whatever else comes up in the process.

Another way she keeps herself involved with the outside world is through the telephone. The local operator can already tell if she's under the weather by the prevalence of hearing her slightly weathered, juvenile voice squeak for connection to mostly one line throughout the day.

Her calls may also be scheduled to a certain hour so that everyone can come up to Mitzi's office and say hi. That "everyone" overwhelmingly ends up being Rocky, who lingers around there a bit more insistently than usual nearing that time frame and never fails to make his presence known by shouting his own greetings and cheerful encouragements of perseverance into the receiver.

She always asks him about Viktor and Calvin since the former disappointingly refuses to engage with her calls, and the latter doesn't visit because boys aren't allowed in the dormitory... and because he's afraid of catching her sickness. (What a chicken.)

You’d better believe they both get a scolding once she’s recovered for not contacting her at all… though you can’t really stay mad at sheepishly apologetic, babyfaced Freckle McMurray, now can you

Supposing the presence of company who’s emotionally close enough, she may also get clingy in the physical sense. Yes, she knows it’s not very courteous to rub your germs all over someone, but oh, her head is just killing her and she’s exhausted and achy and utterly sick of being sick, hence she desperately needs to rest her chin on someone’s shoulder and latch onto their soft warmth. Really, they brought this upon themselves by daring to enter the sniffly lion cub’s den. Now they’re likely not allowed to move for… let’s say the next two hours. Alternatively, until she has to go to the bathroom or ask them to get her something to drink.

Yes, she’s a bit of a princess; and especially when she’s miserable she may occasionally indulge in showering a willing servant with her various requests. Fetch her this, throw away that, bring hot chocolate and snacks, take out the trash, give her attention. But how could you say no to those big, innocent eyes?

If it’s a schoolmate she will absolutely persuade them to skip their classes for the day and spend time with her instead, offering cuddles and gossip. Forgetting, or ignoring rather, that not everyone can afford to be so lax about their education. Though surely, full-time service as a personal maid slash stuffed animal is making a much better use of their time. She promises to do the same when they inevitably catch the illness themselves, if that’s any consolation.

Nightly adventures and consequent loss of sleep aside, she takes decent care of herself overall, so the understimulating agony of quarantined solitude luckily isn’t something she suffers more of than the average person… albeit that little she’s an expert at suffering luxuriously.

VIKTOR

No, he's not sick, you're just lying. The great, the indomitable, the fierce Viktor Vasco never gets sick.

Denial is definitely a big part of it. He will not admit to getting sick until he's too weak to stand, and even then he'll fight anyone who tries to get him to rest.

The boredom is somehow scarier than actual health concerns. Staying at home and being too ill to do anything except think means he'll think. And thinking leads to a whole load of other things that he doesn't want to get into.

Essentially, getting sick is a liability to everything, from his job to his sense of self.

However, good luck on trying to make him better. He will also stubbornly refuse any help that comes his way, will slam his door in the doctor's face and threaten to tear apart anyone who so much as suggests getting him medicine.

His colleagues from Lackadaisy have taken to asking Mrs Bapka, his neighbour, to administer anything they want to give him themselves (he will draw a line at punching an old woman and fellow Slovakian immigrant), or Ivy (no one can successfully dispose of Ivy and her headstrong attitude. No one.)

The last person he had actually listened to when he was sick was a certain Mordecai Heller. Needless to say, that's not the case anymore.

Maybe that's what really makes him so grumpy and reluctant.

ZIB

His immune system is either rock hard or absolute dogshit, there is no in-between. He can go through a crowd of cats with nasty 'bouts of the flu without catching it, but gets bedridden by something as small as a head cold.

Said wonky immune system may be because he tends to drink stuff cut with the most ridiculous ingredients (radiator fluid, coffin varnish, paint, water, mud, you name it he's probably tasted it)

When he gets laid up, he gets laid up hard (innuendo not intended). He has to drag himself out of bed during the worst parts of it and may not even bother, electing to curl up and shiver/cry from the pain/die where he's comfortable. His band members have to literally drag him out of there on those days and force food down his throat so he doesn't wither away

Goddammit you lanky noodle bitch look after your sick ass don't make everyone do it for you

MORDECAI

He hates falling ill with a passion. It's one of many reasons he drinks tea so often: if he does get sick, it won't hit him so hard.

He tends to try and shrug off small stuff (runny nose, mild to moderate headache, aches and pains) to go to work anyway; but he's no fool. If he really feels icky he'll stay at home and look after himself. As much as he hates to do it, he's only got one body and somebody has to look after it.

The Savoys bash/tease him relentlessly whenever he comes in sick. If the mild headache becomes something worth staying at home for, they'll go as far as to try and visit him (or get him to come to them). Is it guilt about ragging him about it, them missing him or just boredom? Hard to tell with those two.

Serafine once teased about playing as his "mama" and looking after him until he's better. Mordecai, in his sickness-muddled mind, flew off the handle at her...Though all the Savoys saw was him almost break a glass in his paws before telling them flatly to get out.

Neither one realized Serafine had hit a nerve until he refused to let them in for a few days after. Whether it was something about his past or Serafine betraying his trust to get him into her group, they let it go and pretended nothing happened once he was back in action (though there was a noticeably thicker wall between him and them)

SERAFINE/NICODEME

Meet the "clingy" duo.

They don't get sick often and have impressive immune systems, what with their past roaming the swamps and other dangerous conditions, but when they do? Oh boy...

They'll either cling to each other in private, or play it up and annoy a hapless colleague.

And by "hapless colleague", I mean Mordecai—because of course it is.

Sickness is less of an actual, preventive ailment, but rather an excuse to show off some dramatic acting skills.

"Oh, cher, I simply cannot move until you bring me some nice warm tea and chocolate!"

"If I die, tell the world I was warm and safe, because of our dear ami, Heller..."

"For crying out loud, you've both got nothing but a cold."

They'll still play it up.

Just because your nose is stuffy doesn't mean the rest of you has to be.

The show must go on, mon cher.

WICK

He gets sick really, really easily. He stays up late at night often, so he doesn't get much rest and his immunity suffers for it.

(Licking rock walls probably doesn't help with that. Muffinhead (affectionate))

He still does work and goes out when he's sick, which results in papers with shitty writing and his friends urging him to go and rest up, "we can go with you another day".

When he's not thinking straight he'll whine to Lacie about how no one wants to see him when he's sick; ignoring the fact that she's either making him food, putting a cold cloth on his head or literally came by just to say hi to him

He's a bit dim sometimes, but he's a loveable dim.

The easiest way to see how sick he is is to mention putting the work on pause or crack a joke at his expense. If he rapidly objects to not working or good-naturedly shrugs off the joke, it's a small thing, nothing to worry about. If all he has to say in response to not working is "I can't" and he tries to defend himself from the joke (or even worse, agrees with it), he's feeling god-awful.

Lacie tends to hide the alcohol away until he's feeling better. During the week or so he's really feeling foggy this actually works, since in his addled state he can't properly look for them.

MITZI (BONUS since she's been getting a fair bit of attention)

Mitzi doesn't get sick. She becomes inconvenienced.

She's also a real bitch when she's sick. It's less of a slipping mask and more of a "I can't be nice when my brain feels too big for my skull"

She'll still grin and bear it for Rocky. He's positively devoted to her, after all; the least she can do is swallow her nasty remarks and come up with something softer for him.

Some cats swear that she never falls ill or has anything happen to her...Usually because once it does happen she locks herself in her office and won't open the door if you're not Horatio or Viktor.

If another cat somehow gets through her door, can put up with her attitude swings and goes out of their way to help her through her illness, she may very well open up a little and talk to them easier. Something as small as a cup of tea during a ravenous headache will convince the then-bitchy queen that you're not all bad-and later that since you put up with her ravenous insults and still helped her, maybe you're worth swallowing her pride for and confiding in.

#{ahah!! hello!! Rory here!! so you may notice the slightly uneven distribution of (Y/N) here}#{even in my own parts I left Calvin out of it. the poor boy}#{and Rocky's easily goes over 1k because I got a bit excited. as you may guess he's my favorite}#{but reminder that (granted that requests are open at the time) we're more than happy to provide further servings of any of our concepts}#{more specialized or in-depth or what-have-you}#{although this IS a brew of headcanons. which are usually brief. I just got a tad eager with my first contribution here I suppose}#{hello to our lovely readers by the way!! :3}#{💌 mod rory 💌}#🦉mod iphiko #🖋 mod ille #Headcanon Home Brew #Rocky Rickaby #Calvin “Freckle” McMurray #Ivy Pepper #Viktor Vasko #Dorian “Zib” Zibowski #Mordecai Heller #Serafine Savoy #Nicodeme Savoy #Sedgewick “Wick” Sable #Mitzi May #headcanon #lackadaisy

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burningvelvet · 1 year ago

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Every Instance of Lord Byron Hating On John Keats, Listed in Chronological Order.

“No more Keats I entreat — flay him alive. If some of you don’t I must skin him myself.”

To his publisher John Murray, 12 October 1820:

“‘I’m thankful for your books dear Murray / But why not send Scott’s Monastery?’ the only book in four living volumes I would give a baioccho to see, abating the rest of the same author, and an occasional Edinburgh & Quarterly – as brief Chroniclers of the times. — Instead of this – here are John Keats’s piss a bed poetry – and three novels by God knows whom [..] Pray send me no more poetry but what is rare and decidedly good. — There is such a trash of Keats and the like upon my tables – that I am ashamed to look at them. [..] – I am in a very fierce humour at not having Scott’s Monastery. – You are too liberal in quantity and somewhat careless of the quality of your missives. – [..] No more Keats I entreat – – – flay him alive – if some of you don’t I must skin him myself. There is no bearing the drivelling idiotism of the Mankin. – – – – – [editor’s note: ‘dashes degenerate into scrawl’]”

To his publisher John Murray, 4 November 1820:

“They Support Pope I see in the Quarterly. [Let them] Continue to do so – it is a Sin & a Shame and a damnation – to think that Pope!! should require it – but he does. – – – Those miserable mountebanks of the day – the poets – disgrace themselves – and deny God – in running down Pope – the most faultless of Poets, and almost of men – – the Edinburgh praises Jack Keats or Ketch or whatever his names are; – why his is the Onanism of Poetry — something like the Pleasure an Italian fiddler extracted out of being suspended daily by a Street Walker in Drury Lane – this went on for some weeks – at last the Girl – went to get a pint of Gin – met another, chatted too long – and Cornelli was hanged outright before she returned. Such like is the trash they praise – and such will be the end of the outstretched poesy of this miserable Self-polluter of the human Mind [editor’s note: ‘untranscribable scrawl’]. W. Scott’s Monastery just arrived — many thanks for that Grand Desideratun of the last Six Months.”

Note: “onanism” refers to masturbation.

To his publisher John Murray, 9 November 1820:

“Mr. Keats whose poetry you enquire after — appears to me what I have already said; such writing is a sort of mental masturbation — he is always frigging his Imagination. I don’t mean that he is indecent, but viciously soliciting his own ideas into a state which is neither poetry nor any thing else but a Bedlam vision produced by raw pork and opium.”

Note: “frigging” was slang for masturbation.

To his publisher John Murray, 18 November 1820:

“P.S. — Of the praises of that little dirty blackguard Keates in the Edinburgh — I shall observe as Johnson did when Sheridan the actor got a pension. ‘What has he got a pension? then it is time that I should give up mine!’ — Nobody could be prouder of the praises of the Edinburgh than I was — or more alive to their censure — as I showed in English Bards and Scotch Reviewers — at present all the men they have ever praised are degraded by that insane article. — Why don't they review & praise ‘Solomon's Guide to Health’ it is better sense — and as much poetry as Johnny Keates.”

To his publisher John Murray 26 April 1821:

“Is it true – what Shelley writes me that poor John Keats died at Rome of the Quarterly Review? I am very sorry for it – though I think he took the wrong line as a poet – and was spoilt by Cockneyfying and Surburbing – and versifying Tooke’s Pantheon and Lempriere’s Dictionary. I know by experience that a savage review is Hemlock to a sucking author – and the one on me – (which produced the English Bards &c.) knocked me down – but I got up again. Instead of bursting a blood-vessel – I drank three bottles of Claret – and began an answer – finding that there was nothing in the Article for which I could lawfully knock Jeffrey on the head in an honourable way. However I would not be the person who wrote the homicidal article – for all the honour & glory in the World, – though I by no means approve of that School of Scribbling – which it treats upon.”

To Percy Shelley, 26 April 1821:

“I am very sorry to hear what you say of Keats — is it actually true? I did not think criticism had been so killing. Though I differ from you essentially in your estimate of his performances, I so much abhor all unnecessary pain, that I would rather he had been seated on the highest peak of Parnassus than have perished in such a manner. Poor fellow! though with such inordinate self-love he would probably have not been very happy. I read the review of ‘Endymion’ in the Quarterly. It was severe, — but surely not so severe as many reviews in that and other journals upon others.

I recollect the effect on me of the Edinburgh on my first poem; it was rage, and resistance, and redress — but not despondency nor despair. I grant that those are not amiable feelings; but, in this world of bustle and broil, and especially in the career of writing, a man should calculate upon his powers of resistance before he goes into the arena. ‘Expect not life from pain nor danger free, Nor deem the doom of man reversed for thee.’

You know my opinion of that second-hand school of poetry. You also know my high opinion of your own poetry, — because it is of no school. [..] I have published a pamphlet on the Pope controversy, which you will not like. Had I known that Keats was dead — or that he was alive and so sensitive — I should have omitted some remarks upon his poetry, to which I was provoked by his attack upon Pope, and my disapprobation of his own style of writing.”

To Percy Shelley, 30 July 1821:

[First page missing] “The impression of Hyperion upon my mind was – that it was the best of his works. Who is to be his editor? It is strange that Southey who attacks the reviewers so sharply in his Kirk White – calling theirs ‘the ungentle craft’ – should be perhaps the killer of Keats. Kirke White was nearly extinguished in the same way – by a paragraph or two in ‘the Monthly’ – Such inordinate sense of censure is surely incompatible with great exertion – have not all known writers been the subject thereof?”

To his publisher John Murray 30 July 1821:

“Are you aware that Shelley has written an Elegy on Keats, and accuses the Quarterly of killing him?

‘Who killed John Keats? / ‘I,’ says the Quarterly, / So savage and Tartarly; / ‘Twas one of my feats.’ / Who shot the arrow? / ‘The poet-priest Milman / (So ready to kill man), / Or Southey or Barrow.’’

You know very well that I did not approve of Keats’s poetry, or principles of poetry, or of his abuse of Pope; but, as he is dead, omit all that is said about him in any M.S.S. of mine, or publication. His Hyperion is a fine monument, and will keep his name. I do not envy the man who wrote the article; — you Review people have no more right to kill than any other footpads. However, he who would die of an article in a Review would probably have died of something else equally trivial. The same thing nearly happened to Kirke White, who died afterwards of a consumption.”

4 August 1821, to his publisher John Murray:

“You must however omit the whole of the observations against the Suburban School – they are meant against Keats and I cannot war with the dead – particularly those already killed by Criticism. Recollect to omit all that portion in any case.”

To his publisher John Murray, 7 August 1821:

“All the part about the Suburb School must be omitted – as it referred to poor Keats now slain by the Quarterly Review — [..] I have just been turning over the homicide review of J. Keats. – It is harsh certainly and contemptuous but not more so than what I recollect of the Edinburgh R. of ‘the Hours of Idleness’ in 1808. The Reviewer allows him ‘a degree of talent which deserves to be put in the right way’ ‘rays of fancy’ ‘gleams of Genius’ and ‘powers of language’. – It is harder on L. Hunt than upon Keats & professes fairly to review only one book of his poem. – Altogether – though very provoking it was hardly so bitter as to kill unless there was a morbid feeling previously in his system.”

To Thomas Moore, August 27th 1822:

“It was not a Bible that was found in Shelley's pocket, but John Keats's poems.”

From his poem Don Juan Canto Eleventh written October 1822 and published August 1823. He was going off the popular gossip shared to him by Shelley (who believed it), which was that Keats health had sharply declined due to receiving bad reviews:

“John Keats, who was killed off by one critique, / Just as he really promised something great, / If not intelligible, without Greek / Contrived to talk about the Gods of late, / Much as they might have been supposed to speak. / Poor fellow! His was an untoward fate; / ‘Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, / Should let itself be snuffed out by an article.”

To his publisher John Murray, 25 December 1822:

“As to any community of feeling, thought, or opinion, between Leigh Hunt and me, there is little or none. We meet rarely, hardly ever; but I think him a good-principled and able man, and must do as I would be done by. I do not know what world he has lived in – but I have lived in three or four – and none of them like his Keats and Kangaroo terra incognita – Alas! poor Shelley! – how he would have laughed – had he lived, and how we used to laugh now & then – at various things – which are grave in the Suburbs. You are all mistaken about Shelley – – you do not know – how mild – how tolerant – how good he was in Society – and as perfect a Gentleman as ever crossed a drawing room; – when he liked – & where he liked. – – – – –“

The excerpts above are taken primarily from Peter Cochran’s transcriptions.

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daily-hyosatsu · 9 months ago

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My favorite thing: animal kanji calligraphy that looks like the animal! Usually it takes the form of a chicken (x x), but today we have something fishy! The restaurant is called 吟漁亭 Ginryōtei.

吟 means versify, singing, or recital. It's read ギン. The left radical, mouth 口, hints at the meaning, and the right radical 今, which can be read キン, at the reading.

This character doesn't come up super often, but it's usually pretty interesting! For example, 吟醸 [ぎんじょう] is a quality designation for sake (related vocab here), while 吟味 [ぎんみ] has a variety of diverse meanings: scrutiny, criminal investigation, winning at hanafuda, or reciting/appreciating traditional poetry.

漁 means fishery or (commercial) fishing (while 釣り [つり] refers to hobby fishing). It's read あさ.る, ギョ, or リョウ. It's made up of the radicals water 氵 and fish 魚.

亭 often shows up as a suffix in hospitality-related businesses, adding a sense of luxury. It means pavilion, restaurant, mansion, arbor, or cottage; or vaudeville, music hall, or stage name. It's usually read テイ, sometimes チン.

#learning japanese #kanji #japanese langblr #吟 #漁 #亭

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arefriendsdetectives2 · 2 years ago

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The new year creeps and crawls and claws Its way into existence. The old year drops you from its paws And meeting no resistance, For just a second, free, remote, Beyond the clutch of time you float.

the new year creeps, crawls, claws its way into existence. the old year's grip around you loosens, and for a second, just a second, you float.

#happy new year #poem #poetry #borrowed words #versified

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richincolor · 10 months ago

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January's New Releases

2024 has already started off right with a strong list of new releases of debuts, a few sequels and trilogies, and a whole slew of highly anticipated novels. Which book will you start your 2024 TBR list with? Click below to read all that has come out so far.

Week of January 2nd

Stay with My Heart by Tashie Bhuiyan Inkyard Press

From the author of Counting Down with You and A Show for Two comes a new YA contemporary about a girl who accidentally sabotages an up-and-coming local band and falls for the guitarist while secretly trying to make up for her mistake.

Liana Sarkar lives and breathes music, hoping to follow in the footsteps of her A&R coordinator father. Maybe if she succeeds, he’ll finally give her the time of day instead of drowning himself in work to distract from the grief of her mother’s passing.

When Liana accidentally sabotages an up-and-coming local band, Third Eye, she makes it her mission to steer them towards success—without them discovering her role in their setback. But as she gets closer to Third Eye, especially their enigmatic leader Skyler Moon, it becomes harder to hide the truth.

With both her heart and their futures on the line, will Liana be able to undo the damage she’s caused?

Just Happy to Be Here by Naomi Kanakia HarperTeen

In this YA standalone perfect for fans of Tobly McSmith and Meredith Russo, the first out trans girl at an all-girls school must choose between keeping her head down or blazing a trail.

Tara just wants to be treated like any other girl at Ainsley Academy.

That is, judged on her merits—not on her transness. But there’s no road map for being the first trans girl at an all-girls school. And when she tries to join the Sibyls, an old-fashioned Ainsley sisterhood complete with code names and special privileges, she’s thrust into the center of a larger argument about what girlhood means and whether the club should exist at all.

Being the figurehead of a movement isn’t something Tara’s interested in. She’d rather read old speeches and hang out with the Sibyls who are on her side—especially Felicity, a new friend she thinks could turn into something more. Then the club’s sponsor, a famous alumna, attacks her in the media and turns the selection process into a spectacle.

Tara’s always found comfort in the power of other peoples’ words. But when it comes time to fight for herself, will she be able to find her own voice?

Dark Star Burning, Ash Falls White (Song of the Last Kingdom #2) by Amélie Wen Zhao Delacorte

Years ago, the Elantian colonizers invaded Lan’s homeland and killed her mother in their search to uncover the Last Kingdom’s greatest the location of its legendary four Demon Gods. Lan’s mother devoted her life to destroying the Demon Gods, and Lan is determined to finish her mission. Yet, there are others searching for the gods, too.

Zen knew his soul was forfeit the moment he made a deal with the Demon God known as the Black Tortoise, but he’s willing to lose himself if it means saving the Kingdom–and the girl–he loves. But to crush the colonizers who have invaded his land he needs more power than even a single Demon God can provide. He needs an army. And he knows exactly where he can find it–in the undead army his great grandfather lead decades ago.

The Elantians may have stolen their throne, but the battle for the Last Kingdom has only begun.

Ghost Roast by Shawneé and Shawnelle Gibbs & illustrated by Emily Cannon Versify

For as long as she can remember, Chelsea Grant has tried everything she can think of to distance herself from the disastrous damage her father does to her social life. It’s not easy to shake her reputation as Ghost Girl when Dad keeps advertising his business as a “paranormal removal expert” in big, bold, loud letters all over New Orleans!

This year, Chelsea’s all grown up, attending one of the most prestigious high schools in the city, and she’s finally made friends with the popular crowd. Things are looking up—until a night on the town backfires spectacularly, landing her in hot water at home. Her punishment? Working for her dad at Paranormal Removal Services. All. Summer.

Worst of all, her new job reveals an unexpected secret she has to keep: While Dad hunts ghosts with his own DIY tech, Chelsea can actually see them. And when she meets Oliver, a friendly spirit, at the fancy mansion her dad is getting a handsome fee to exorcize, she realizes she has to save his after-life, even if it risks everything her father’s worked for.

Week of January 9th

Somewhere in the Deep by Tanvi Berwah Sourcebooks Fire

Seventeen-year-old Krescent Dune is buried under the weight of her dead parents’ debt and the ruinous legacy they left behind. The only way she can earn enough money to escape her unforgiving island is by battling monstrous creatures in an underground fighting pit. After a fight goes terribly wrong, she’s banned from the pits. Now hopeless, she is offered a deal: in exchange for the erasure of her debts, she must join and protect a hunting party for a rescue mission deep within the mining caves beneath the island.

Krescent is determined to keep her head down and fulfill her role as the dutiful bodyguard, even though she is trapped underground with her childhood enemy and a company of people who would gladly kill her if they knew who her parents were. As they come across creatures she believed only existed in legends, it becomes clear they are in far more danger than she could have imagined. But someone doesn’t want her to make it out alive. And she’ll have to figure out who before she’s left alone… in the dark.

From the author of Monsters Born and Made comes an action-packed South Asian inspired fantasy that will have your heart racing at every turn.

Arya Khanna’s Bollywood Moment by Arushi Avachat Wednesday Books

Shaadi preparations are in full swing, which means lehenga shopping, taste testing, dance rehearsals, and best of all, Arya’s sister Alina is home. The Khannas are together again, finally, and Arya wants to enjoy it. So she stifles her lingering resentment towards Alina, plays mediator during her sister’s fights with their mother, and welcomes her future brother-in-law with open arms. (Okay, maybe enjoy isn’t exactly right.)

Meanwhile at school, Arya’s senior year dreams are unraveling. In between class and her part-time gig as a bookshop assistant, Arya struggles to navigate the aftermath of a bad breakup between her two best friends and a tense student council partnership with her rival, the frustratingly attractive Dean Merriweather.

Arya is determined to keep the peace at home and at school, but this shaadi season teaches Arya new realities: Alina won’t always be in the bedroom down the hall, Mamma’s sadness isn’t mendable, friendships must evolve, and life doesn’t always work out like her beloved Bollywood movies. But sometimes, the person you least expect will give you a glimpse of your dream sequence just when you need it most.

Structured like a Bollywood film (entertaining intermission included!) Arya Khanna’s Bollywood Moment will make you swoon, laugh, cry, think, nod your head in agreement, and quite possibly make you get up and dance.

Lunar New Year Love Story by Gene Luen Yang and illustrated by LeUyen Pham First Second

Valentina Tran was named after Valentine’s Day, which used to be her favorite holiday. But when Val learns the truth behind what happened with her parents and why she’s being raised by a single father, she realizes true love is a lie. This is reinforced when she meets the spirit of Saint Valentine, who tells her she and her family are cursed to always be unlucky in love. Val is ready to give into her fate, until one Lunar New Year festival, where a mysterious lion dancer hands her a paper heart, and ZING. Val becomes determined to change her destiny, prove Saint Valentine wrong, and give her heart to the right person.

Meanwhile, lion dancing is the only thing that has given Jae peace after his dad passed away. It’s also what keeps him connected to his father’s side of the family. Both Jae and his cousin Leslie notice Val at the Lunar New Year festival, and for some inexplicable reason, Jae hands Val a paper heart. But it’s Leslie, with his K-Pop good looks, who starts to date Val. Jae still feels this connection with Val and feels it’s somehow tied to how he feels about losing his father.

Both Val and Jae struggle with the spirits who haunt them as they are inextricably brought together in a love story that is satisfying, sweet, and moving.

Week of January 16th

Escaping Mr. Rochester by L.L. McKinney HarperTeen

Jane has no interest in a husband. Eager to make her own way in the world, she accepts the governess position at Thornfield Hall. Though her new employer, Edward Rochester, has a charming air—not to mention a handsome face—Jane discovers that his smile can sharpen in an instant. Plagued by Edward’s mercurial mood and the strange wails that echo through the corridors, she grows suspicious of the secrets hidden within Thornfield Hall—unaware of the true horrors lurking above her very head.

On the topmost floor, Bertha is trapped in more ways than one. After her whirlwind marriage to Edward turned into a nightmare, he locked her away as revenge for withholding her inheritance. Now his patience grows thin in the face of Bertha’s resilience and Jane’s persistent questions, and both young women are in more danger than they realize. When their only chance at safety—and perhaps something more—is in each other’s arms, can they find and keep one another safe before Edward’s dark machinations close in around them?

Most Ardently by Gabe Cole Novoa Feiwel & Friends

London, 1812 . Oliver Bennet feels trapped—not just by the endless corsets, petticoats, and skirts he’s forced to wear on a daily basis, but also by society’s expectations. The world, and the vast majority of his family and friends, think Oliver is a girl named Elizabeth. He is therefore expected to mingle at balls wearing a pretty dress, entertain suitors regardless of his interest in them, and ultimately become someone’s wife.

But Oliver can’t bear the thought of such a fate. He finds solace in the few times he can sneak out of his family’s home and explore the city rightfully dressed as a young gentleman. It’s during one such excursion when Oliver becomes acquainted with Darcy, a sulky young man who had been rude to “Elizabeth” at a recent social function. But in the comfort of being out of the public eye, Oliver comes to find that Darcy is actually a sweet, intelligent boy with a warm heart, not to mention attractive.

As Oliver spends more time as his true self, often with Darcy, part of him dares to hope that his dream of love and life as a man can be possible. But suitors are growing bolder―and even threatening―and his mother is growing more desperate to see him settled into an engagement. Oliver will have to choose: settle for safety, security, and a life of pretending to be something he’s not, or risk it all for a slim chance at freedom, love, and a life that can be truly his own.

So Let Them Burn (Divine Traitors #1) by Kamilah Cole Little, Brown Young Readers

Whip-smart and immersive, this Jamaican-inspired fantasy follows a gods-blessed heroine who’s forced to choose between saving her sister or protecting her homeland.

Faron Vincent can channel the power of the gods. Five years ago, she used her divine magic to liberate her island from its enemies, the dragon-riding Langley Empire. But now, at seventeen, Faron is all powered up with no wars to fight. She’s a legend to her people and a nuisance to her neighbors.

When she’s forced to attend an international peace summit, Faron expects that she will perform tricks like a trained pet and then go home. She doesn’t expect her older sister, Elara, forming an unprecedented bond with an enemy dragon—or the gods claiming the only way to break that bond is to kill her sister.

As Faron’s desperation to find another solution takes her down a dark path, and Elara discovers the shocking secrets at the heart of the Langley Empire, both must make difficult choices that will shape each other’s lives, as well as the fate of their world.

A Drop of Venom by Sajni Patel Rick Riordan Presents

Sixteen-year-old Manisha is no stranger to monsters—she’s been running from them for years, from beasts who roam the jungle to the King’s army, who forced her people, the naga, to scatter to the ends of the earth. You might think that the kingdom’s famed holy temples atop the floating mountains, where Manisha is now a priestess, would be safe—but you would be wrong.

Seventeen-year-old Pratyush is a famed slayer of monsters, one of the King’s most prized warriors and a frequent visitor to the floating temples. For every monster the slayer kills, years are added to his life. You might think such a powerful warrior could do whatever he wants, but true power lies with the King. Tired after years of fighting, Pratyush wants nothing more than a peaceful, respectable life.

When Pratyush and Manisha meet, each sees in the other the possibility to chart a new path. Unfortunately, the kingdom’s powerful have other plans. A temple visitor sexually assaults Manisha and pushes her off the mountain into a pit of vipers. A month later, the King sends Pratyush off to kill one last monster (a powerful nagin who has been turning men to stone) before he’ll consider granting his freedom.

Except Manisha doesn’t die, despite the hundreds of snake bites covering her body and the venom running through her veins. She rises from the pit more powerful than ever before, with heightened senses, armor-like skin, and blood that can turn people to stone. And Pratyush doesn’t know it, but the “monster” he’s been sent to kill is none other than the girl he wants to marry.

Alternating between Manisha’s and Pratyush’s perspectives, Sajni Patel weaves together lush language, high stakes, and page-turning suspense, demanding an answer to the question “What does it truly mean to be a monster?”

Beasts of War (Beasts of Prey #3) by Ayana Gray Nancy Paulsen Books

Once a prisoner to Fedu, the vengeful god of death, Koffi has regained her freedom, but she is far from safe. Fedu will stop at nothing to hunt her down and use her power to decimate the mortal world. Koffi knows when Fedu will during the next Bonding, a once-in-a-lifetime celestial event. To survive, Koffi will have to find powerful new allies quickly, and convince them to help her in the terrible battle to come.

Once a warrior-turned-runaway, Ekon has carved out a new life for himself outside Lkossa, but the shadows of his past still haunt him. Now, alongside unexpected friends, Ekon tries to focus on getting Koffi to the Kusonga Plains before the next Bonding. If he fails, Koffi will be consumed, either by her own dangerous power, or the terrible fate Ekon is doing everything he can to prevent. Ekon devotes himself to protecting Koffi, but the lingering threats from his own past are more urgent than he knows.

As Koffi and Ekon race to the Kusonga Plains—and try to garner the help of Eshōza’s ancient gods along the way—they must face a slew of dangerous beasts old and new. In the end, destiny may unite Koffi and Ekon for the last time—or tear them apart for good.

Week of January 23rd

Into the Sunken City by Dinesh Thiru HarperTeen

In the slowly sinking city of Coconino, Arizona, the days are long, the money is tight, and the rain never stops.

For Jin Haldar, this life is nothing new—ever since her father died in a diving accident, she’s barely made ends meet for her and her younger sister, Thara.

Enter Bhili: a drifter who offers Jin and Thara the score of a lifetime—a massive stash of gold hidden in the sunken ruins of Las Vegas.

Jin knows it’s too dangerous. She stopped diving after her father’s accident. But when her sister decides to go, Jin’s left with only one choice: to go with her.

A ragtag crew is assembled—including Jin’s annoyingly hot ex-boyfriend. From there, a high-stakes heist ensues that’s beyond even Jin’s wildest fears. Crumbling ruins, sea beasts, corsairs, and a mysterious figure named João Silva all lie in wait. To survive, Jin will have to do what she promised herself she’d never do again: dive.

Out of Our League: 16 Stories of Girls in Sports edited by Dahlia Adler and Jennifer Iacopelli Feiwel and Friends

A compelling YA anthology from editors Dahlia Adler and Jennifer Iacopelli about the trials and triumphs of girls in sports.

Ambition. Drive. Determination. Talent. Courage. Teamwork.

Every athlete knows what it takes to win. But for teen female players, the stakes are so much higher. In this anthology, the voices of these athletes come alive, highlighting the ferocity of those who are often shunted to the side. From navigating rampant misogyny to forging a sisterhood through sweat or just reveling in the love of the game, the stories in Out of Our League address the phenomenal physical and emotional power of teenage athletes as they compete, persevere, and thrive, on and off the field.

The Colliding Worlds of Mina Lee by Ellen Oh Crown

When a Korean American teenage artist gets sucked into the world of her own web comic, she must find a way out with the help of a cute boy all while facing off against a villainous corporation. Inspired by the A-ha’s “Take on Me” music video, this entertaining YA novel is a grounded speculative fiction adventure from the co-founder of We Need Diverse Books.

Mina has become the hero of her own story. Literally.

When Mina Lee woke up on Saturday morning for SAT prep, she did NOT expect to:

1. Nearly be fried by a superhero who turned out to be a supervillain. 2. Come face to face with Jin, the handsome boy of her dreams. 3. Discover a conspiracy involving the evil corporation Merco that she created.

And it’s all happening in her fictional world. Mina is trapped in the story she created. Now it’s up to her to save everyone. Even if it means losing Jin forever.

Barracoon by Zora Neal Hurston, Adapted by Ibram X. Kendi, Illustrated by Jazzmen Lee-Johnson HarperCollins Childrens

In the first middle grade offering from Zora Neale Hurston and Ibram X. Kendi, young readers are introduced to the remarkable and true-life story of Cudjo Lewis, one of the last survivors of the Atlantic human trade, in an adaptation of the internationally bestselling and critically acclaimed Barracoon.

This is the life story of Cudjo Lewis, as told by himself.

Of the millions of men, women, and children transported from Africa to America to be enslaved, eighty-six-year-old Cudjo Lewis was then the only person alive to tell the story of his capture and bondage—fifty years after the Atlantic human trade was outlawed in the United States. Cudjo shared his firsthand account with legendary folklorist, anthropologist, and writer Zora Neale Hurston.

Adapted with care and delivered with age-appropriate historical context by award-winning historian Ibram X. Kendi, Cudjo’s incredible story is now available for young readers and emerging scholars. With powerful illustrations by Jazzmen Lee-Johnson, this poignant work is an invaluable contribution to our shared history and culture.

#new releases #weneeddiversebooks #young adult books

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