Things to do...
Apr. 16th, 2012 10:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matt_doyleHad an amazingly fun, totally unproductive weekend. Today must be slightly more goal-oriented. More scones and coffee may help with that. More pleasant weather definitely helps with that. My ennui, however, continues.
Once again, I'm left to wonder a little whether my motivational problems are more linked to ADD or depression. I know I've got one of the two, but really, how can I (sans health insurance) know which one? Or both, it could be both, that would be fun.
Anyway, I stayed up until 1 AM last night reading Flytrap by Frances Hardinge, the sequel to Fly By Night. It was stellar. The worldbuilding is still fascinating and believable, functioning as a sense-of-wonder-inspiring piece of alien weirdness; a believable and well thought-out world in the context of the narrative; and also in a more allegorical sense as a way for the author to address various issues of class, authority, and religion in interesting ways. The main character is still compelling, frustrating, admirable and unpredictable; her mentor-sidekick-boss is still entertaining, as well as being one of the most complex and deeply human characters I know of in his contradictions and flaws (and deep down, deliberately buried, a real sense of value and love and moral character)...
... however, dare I say it? I'm getting tired of the diabolical pet goose. He's a useful plot hook, slapstick-enducing comedy device, and bodyguard; but it's exactly that multi-function tireless service to narrative necessities that makes him tiresome. He's a versatile anser ex machina, but he's also a crutch to get out of slow spots and narrative corners, and I feel that in the Campbellian lottery of narrative lives, it's time his number came up. Kill him off in the third book and let that be the motivation for the action of the plot, rather than tossing him into the middle of things to resolve them in a spate of random comic violence.
And I think that's all I've got to say about things at the moment.
Once again, I'm left to wonder a little whether my motivational problems are more linked to ADD or depression. I know I've got one of the two, but really, how can I (sans health insurance) know which one? Or both, it could be both, that would be fun.
Anyway, I stayed up until 1 AM last night reading Flytrap by Frances Hardinge, the sequel to Fly By Night. It was stellar. The worldbuilding is still fascinating and believable, functioning as a sense-of-wonder-inspiring piece of alien weirdness; a believable and well thought-out world in the context of the narrative; and also in a more allegorical sense as a way for the author to address various issues of class, authority, and religion in interesting ways. The main character is still compelling, frustrating, admirable and unpredictable; her mentor-sidekick-boss is still entertaining, as well as being one of the most complex and deeply human characters I know of in his contradictions and flaws (and deep down, deliberately buried, a real sense of value and love and moral character)...
... however, dare I say it? I'm getting tired of the diabolical pet goose. He's a useful plot hook, slapstick-enducing comedy device, and bodyguard; but it's exactly that multi-function tireless service to narrative necessities that makes him tiresome. He's a versatile anser ex machina, but he's also a crutch to get out of slow spots and narrative corners, and I feel that in the Campbellian lottery of narrative lives, it's time his number came up. Kill him off in the third book and let that be the motivation for the action of the plot, rather than tossing him into the middle of things to resolve them in a spate of random comic violence.
And I think that's all I've got to say about things at the moment.
