On May 6 I mentioned rereading books that count as very old friends, which is something I like to do, despite the importance of keeping up with new books and titles, which is as important for authors as it is in any other field.
Conversely, I also believe it’s important to know what’s been written before, if only in order to know if “the new” is really all that new. O-o…
Needless to say, there is an awful lot pundits insist should and must be written now, which has in fact been done before if only one delves back – but that is another post again to this one. 😉
Today my theme is the somewhat eclectic array of older titles that have crossed my reading ken of recent times, originating in such diverse quarters as the back of the bookshelf (somewhat cobwebby, but hey, that’s what dusters are for!), the local hospice shop, the library remaindered table*, and the neighbourhood “book fridge.”**
I hope to share my “terribly important thoughts” on a few of them over the next wee while, with the foremost contenders being:
Amazons II – an anthology of original speculative stories about women warriors, edited by Jessica Amanda Salmonson, and published by DAW in 1982.
Maquis
by George Millar, DSO, MC – the “first book of true war adventure to be published in England and America after the War (1945)”, it’s a firsthand account of the authors’ experience as an operative in Nazi-occupied France. My edition was republished by PAN in 1956 and was not, I gathered, quite so heavily censored.
These Lovers Fled Away by Howard Spring. Published in 1955, this novel (basically) follows four young men and those closest to them from the turn of the twentieth century through two World Wars to the period when the novel was written.
The Grandiflora Tree by Shonagh Koea. Published in 1989 by Penguin, this novel is the only one set in New Zealand and explores bereavement and how little we may actually know those to whom we are (ostensibly) closest.
I found each interesting, albeit in very different ways, so will be interested to see what you think when I post on each one – not necessarily one a week, although I shall strive for a reasonably prompt delivery on this post’s promise. 😀
—
*By way of an aside, I am sometimes surprised at the very good books that get let go via remaindered tables – to my gain, of course, since I snatch up any “finds”, although not without a qualm for what other reading “punters” will miss being wowed by in future.
** “Book fridges” first appeared in Christchurch following the earthquakes, one of the very many interim uses for lots were commercial buildings in particular had been demolished and would have otherwise remained empty and unused for years. Basically, the one in my ’hood is the shell of a commercial fridge where one can leave books or acquire them, as you will. They’re slowly going as the city rebuilds, which is a shame, as they’re a great way of recycling books.




… or at least, proving singularly uncooperative.

Last
It’s amazingly evocative and atmospheric writing. It’s also setting up the next action sequence at one level, while simultaneously “lulling” the reader at another. Do I appreciate the author’s craft? Yes, I do. 😉
And as I’ve mentioned in other posts, when it comes to the second book in particular (Heir of Sea and Fire), and the character of Raederle of An, the Riddlemaster storyline doesn’t stay in that traditional space. In fact it was one of the first epic fantasies I encountered that not only introduced empowered and engaging female characters, but also included a major female point-of-view character in the series.


I believe this to be fact, if not necessarily universally acknowledged… When I read the quote for the first time I stood right up and cheered. 😀
As a reader and writer, I love the way the poems and books I heart always stay with me.
The leaves and the sea are doubtless reason enough for shouting those words into the wind, but given the grandeur and wildness of the unexpected squall, I did wonder if it might not be a moment for lines that appear later, in The Return of the King:
If you would like to reflect further on ANZAC Day itself, the following link to ANZAC reflections, including poetry, that I’ve posted in other years:



In my recent
The interview is wide-ranging, but the parts that really resonated for me were when Murakami spoke about the writing process. Here are a few examples:
And this:
Mine definitely work in their own mysterious ways, their wonders to perform. And are not infrequently shapeshifters to boot – just when you think you’ve got them tied down, there they go, shifting again: not unlike Menelaus and the Old Man of the Sea…







