Posts Tagged With: Escapism

Politics of the Supernatural Kind

I can’t even today.  Every time I think that a certain political candidate could not possibly make me angrier, I somehow get more incensed.  It’s at the point now where I know I have to disengage or give myself an aneurism from all the angstyness that people are STILL supporting this – I don’t even feel like there’s a word bad enough to call him – candidate.  My only consolation is that it will all be over in about 4 weeks (for better or worse).

I was thinking about doing a post about all the feminist reasons to abhor this man, but I realized that all that info is out there in spades on the internet.  And this isn’t a political blog, it’s a book/writing blog.

So, escapism it is!

I don’t know about you, but I prefer my politics with a heavy dose of magic and/or the supernatural.  So instead of a rant, I present to you 4 Fantasy books in which the government plays an active character. But don’t worry, it’s not anything like your government today.  Have at them and try and forget that America is such a mess right now.

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Witches of Lychford by Paul Cornell: There’s a new big box store going into the sleepy hamlet of Lychford.  Local crank Judith doesn’t care a bit about jobs or modernization, but she does care about the site plan.  Lychford lies on the boundary of two worlds. If the supermarket is built it will destroy all wards forever, unleashing demonic destruction on the world.  Judith has to convince the town to stop construction, but she’ll need some unlikely allies to make it happen…

The book is spunky and hilarious, with a few serious moments to make it really a good book.  It’s a novella, which means it’s a quick read, and it’s everything you ever wanted in a Walmart fight, with actual demons, witches dancing under the moonlight, fae in the forests, and magic markings on the doors.

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Chalice by Robin McKinley: The last Master and Chalice died in a horrible fire after doing unspeakable things to the land. Now it is up to beekeeper Marisol (the new Chalice) and the old Master’s brother (a priest of fire who may not be quite human anymore) to heal the land and stabilize the country, before the Overlord can launch a coup for power that will certainly damage the land irreparably.

This book is one in which nothing happens and everything happens all at once, like McKinley does best.  It’s so internal, so based on looks and gestures, or subtle power plays.  But you still feel the seriousness of it as you fall in love with the land.  I never put this book down without wanting to move to the middle of nowhere and keep bees with the man I’m in love with.

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The Lives of Christopher Chant by Dianna Wynne Jones: Christopher’s parents are both powerful enchanters who hate each other.  But Christopher himself doesn’t appear to be magical at all, unless you count the marvelous lands he visits in his dreams.  His only friend is his Uncle Ralph, who sends him on missions to bring back things from those strange lands as a game.  But when Christopher is told that he’s supposed to train to become the next Chrestomanci, the president of all magic in the land, his loyalties are thrown out of whack and he isn’t sure who to trust anymore.  Or that he’ll even want to become the next Chrestomanci at all.

I just can’t say enough about this book.  It turns all fantasy tropes on its heels and features one of those perfect Dianna Wynne Jones plots where everything is absolutely nuts, random, and up in the air, but somehow it resolves into a plot that was always perfectly right and organized by the end.  You just didn’t know it. My favorite person in the book is the priestess Asheth.  She always wants Christopher to bring her “exotic” books featuring Millie and her boarding school adventures.  It’s technically a children’s book, but it’s definitely complex and fun for adults, too.

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Voices: Memer is a daughter of the Oracle House, a place the conquerors and occupiers of the town Ansul are sure is filled with demons.  Reading and writing are punishable by death, and Oracle House is the only place that books now exist in the town, locked up in a secret room.  When the famous traveling minstrel, Orrec, arrives with his wife Gry to tell stories to the soldiers, Memer begins to see how important story really is.  Important enough that it could give Ansul back it’s peace and freedom, could give the people enough bravery to rebel against their oppressors.

I don’t know why I’m in love with this book so much, because it’s a serious read that deals with grave topics that surround war.  Memer herself is the daughter of a rape. But Memer is so beloved, and the world so vibrant, that you root for the townsfolk and their freedom wholeheartedly.  It’s got a magic to it that’s hard to define, partly (I think) because it feels so real.  This could be a history of somewhere you’ve never heard of, and it ends with so much hope.

So that’s my recommendation.  As always, happy reading!  And together maybe we can avoid imploding from election drama… Maybe.

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Some Thoughts on Romance Novels

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I usually keep a reading list of whatever I’m finishing, but I am here to confess that my reading list has been less than honest lately.  I’ve been binge-reading romance novels for the last 2 months now, with not a whole lot else stuffed in between.  I’ve been loath to admit it, so I’ve been leaving it off the list.  Why, you ask?  Oh good, I was hoping you would.  I’ll tell you.

Well, I mean… Regency romance novels with all the sex in them are definitely considered some of the worst kind of beach smut by a lot of people.  I get that, but I don’t think that’s the entire reason I hate to admit that I read them (although as a self-professed book snob, perhaps that’s some of it).  I DO advocate for reading everything and for judging a book by it’s intended merits.  Romance novels are fun.  The real reason I’ve not wanted to say anything , though, is because I am a girl who has always prided myself on being a little weird.  But if I’m a 33 year-old married lady who isn’t particularly happy with life in its current state (Why have I not received a six figure book deal yet?  Oh, it’s because I haven’t finished writing the book, you say?  And even then, that sort of money is a total pipe-dream?), I may also be a giant cliché.  Okay, I’ll just embrace it; I’m almost certainly a giant cliché.

But I’ll live with it.  That’s how much I like romance novels.  I am willing to be labeled ordinary for reading them.

There has been a TON of scholarship on why women like the romance genre, but I’m going to add my non-scientific thoughts on it.   I like them because they’re the best kind of escapism.  It’s really that simple.  For example:

There are no money problems.  Or if there are money problems, it’s because one or the other of the protagonists is hiding their vast fortune.  Or is about to be left a vast fortune.  Or is about to have an amazing idea for an invention that will earn them a fortune.  In a romance novel, no one ever spends the evening going over the finances and crying.  There is no dismay at how bad the electric bill has become in the wake of the 100-degree heat.  No cars or carriages ever need repairs that are unaffordable.  No one shops at the thrift store, the dollar tree.  They don’t have to worry about deciding where to eat, or where to spend date night, or if there will even be a date night.  Just have the cook make whatever you want! Attend the ball, or the theater! Characters buy libraries and entire wardrobes in one fell swoop in these things.  Characters buy and furnish entire manor houses in one fell swoop.  It’s relaxing.

And then… There are no job problems, because no one works.  Everyone has a title or a vast fortune, so there is no day job to make ends meet.  If you are female, your job is to dress yourself in awesome clothes, read books, and drink tea all day while waiting to be seduced or chatted-up by a VERY handsome (and often smart) man.  You can attend balls and theater performances if you’d like.  If you are a man, your job is to gamble, talk horses, tie a mean cravat, and go to the club while chatting up a lovely lady of your choice.  Bonus points for tight pants and sheer manliness.  People have professions if they want them or are good at them, but they work for themselves.  There are no crappy bosses.  There is no sacrificing time with your loved ones because the boss needs you to work overtime.  There are no assignments that make you want to tear your hair out with boredom.  No one ever has to decide what they want to “be when they grow up,” because what they’re going to be is independently wealthy.  It’s lovely.

Put that together with settings of fantastical manor houses, pretty dresses, and bleak yet beautiful countryside and you have something that is just the perfect place to escape to.  It’s so unlike my current American life of offices and cars that it’s almost like reading fantasy.  Now if only we could do something about the sappy, cringe-worthy titles.  That is the only thing left to reconcile… I can’t tell inquirers that I’m reading “Three Weeks With Lady X” with a straight face.  I just can’t.

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