Alice Grove is finished. I'm going to take some time to just do QC for a while and then start another side project sometime in the fall. Patreon subscribers will get sneak peeks, advance previews, and other stuff as it develops. Thank you for reading my comics.
If you quit, why are you bothering to read the group's discussions? When I quit being a part of an organization, as I did with the Boy Scouts, for example, I leave their social media pages too. It doesn't make sense to take the time to read their discussions.
The only thing I can think of is that those 'quitters' really didn't want to leave the group and are looking for some way to fit back in, for something to inspire them to overcome their memories of the bad in the hope that there will be a new something good.
In this tale, souls get 10,000 chances to reach perfection. If they achieve this, they go into the great cosmic soul forever; bliss, but with no individuality. If they fail, they are obliterated forever. Most people manage it in significantly fewer than 10,000 lives. Not Milo, though- Milo is at 9,995 and it’s not looking promising. Milo knows this- at least between lives, he does. During the resting period between lives, a soul is fully conscious of all their lives. In Milo’s case, two spirits (deities? Avatars?), Ma and Nan, aid (mostly by harassing) his journey to perfection. Also with him between lives is one of the many avatars of death, Suzie. Suzie and Milo are in love. They want to find a way to stay together. Also, Suzie wants to stop being death and open a candle shop.
We follow Milo through a number of his lives. Lives can be as anything; trees, kings, cats, pirates, slugs, slaves, male, female, poor, rich, whatever. He comes *close* to perfection, but somehow always screws it up at the end. The lives are pretty interesting; short tales of near perfection in a prison, turning around the human race on a different prison world where the Water Cartels run everything; and tiny tales, a page long or less, of marching in Selma Ala., and hiding a cache of Polish pornography from the Nazis. Some tales of being not so nice a person. He also has adventures between lives, too- the afterlife is quite a busy place. The whole book is a collection of short stories, with Milo (he tends to keep that name throughout) as the star of them all. Some parts are horrific, some are very funny- his style reminds me of Christopher Moore (and, at times, of certain periods of Robert Heinlein’s work)- but for some reason, Milo never seems to take anything seriously. It made it a little difficult for me to really feel for him. Suzie isn’t around enough to make a real connection with her. I really enjoyed the book- it’s a lot of fun!- but for some reason I just can’t make it five stars. Four stars out of five.
1922 was the year that ‘Ulysses’ was published and Proust’s work was translated into English. Willa Cather declared that the world broke in two in that year, because these were literary works that were distinctly different from all that had come before them. These works had effects on other writers, of course- Virginia Woolf said, after reading Proust “Well, what remains to be written after that?” Thankfully, after being unable to write due to illnesses both mental and physical, she found a new voice within her and created both “Jacob’s Room” and “Mrs. Dalloway”.
T.S. Eliot felt trapped by both his day job at a bank and his invalid wife. His own neuroses did not help; he had a great deal of trouble letting go of his new work “The Wasteland” and was an incredible frustration to the people who wanted to publish the poem.
D.H. Lawrence was traveling the world, trying to find a place where he felt he could write in peace. People seemed to be dying to have him stay with them, even though he was quite unreasonable about his situation, wanting to be put up by friends but also wanting to be left strictly alone. During this time he watched censorship battles being fought over his work, and published “Kangaroo” (which I had never heard of) and “Aaron’s Rod”.
E.M. Forster had writer’s block for well over a decade, but in this year managed to finish a book he’d started long before: “A Passage to India”. His life was unhappy; a closeted gay man in an era that did not allow homosexuality, he did not want to suffer the same fate as Oscar Wilde. His mental outlook wasn’t helped by living with his aging, control freak mother.
These four authors were affected by Joyce and Proust, even those who did not like the work they produced. They were also profoundly affected by the recent World War; “The Wasteland” and “Mrs Dalloway” both contain reactions to that.
The entwined biographies of the four, and what they published in 1922, make a good picture of how modernist writing was being created. The book is not fast reading (I tended to skip over a good deal of Eliot’s parts) but it’s good writing and the research is meticulous. Four stars out of five.
Finally I am doing a sewing project for Pennsic prep. Bossman has a Glastonbury chair which needs a seat cushion. Luckily I have a scrap of green & gold upholstery fabric which will do well to be one, and sufficient batting to fill it. If I'm lucky there will be a big enough piece of it left over that I can use it to craft the front of a back cushion for it also. The trick will be to figure out how to put the cushioning on the back rest since the chair is unfinished and so nails and brads as Right Out. If you have a suggestion, I'm all ears. Bossman suggests strapping it on at left & right sides, with Velcro to connect the strap pieces. As you'd expect, this disturbs my medieval Wa.
I got a fabulous bit of news from a friend. After too many miscarriages, her 10-year-old son will have a younger sibling when the weather turns. She's past the dangerous first trimester so it looks like smooth sailing from here. I am so thrilled for her!
Last night, I dreamt that Henry was very angry with me, and was summoned to his court. There he was, with a few of his wives and some other fancy folks, thoroughly pissed off. He was planning on attacking my house. Last thing I remember was trying to shut and lock all the windows then realizing the futility of that against lances....
What would you feel about a woman who mooned (dropped her drawers and presented her bare bottom to others) a performer she knew well during a bardic circle in her baronial encampment while children were present? Would you find this amusing? Would your feelings be different if the woman was a newcomer, or a mid-level award holder, or a Peer? Would you have differing views depending upon circumstances?
I think I have gotten all the plants I bought or started this year into the ground! This is a first for me, especially this early in the year.