Asymptomatic

There must be intelligent life down here

Kushiel's Scion
June 25, 2006

I picked up this book, Kushiel’s Scion, to have something to read while the TV was unhooked, and I finished it on Friday night.

Kushiel’s Scion follows the adolescence of Prince Imriel nó Montrève de la Courcel (accenting omitted because I don’t want to start a trend), who is the adopted son of Phèdre nó Delaunay, Kushiel’s Chosen.

Maybe I should back up a bit.

This book is the fourth written by Jaqueline Carey in this specific world of historical fantasy. The first three books in the Kushiel’s Legacy series - Kushiel’s Dart, Kushiel’s Chosen, and Kushiel’s Avatar - were all about Phèdre, Imriel’s adopted mother. Imriel actually appears in the third book as a child that Phèdre rescues from this terrible place called Daršanga, where everyone is excessively tortured for the pleasure of its ruler, the Mahrkagir. In this new book, Imriel is Kushiel’s Scion (perhaps?), and the story is told in his voice rather than Phèdre’s.

There is a good bit I like about the stories. For whatever reason, I’ve grown an attraction to Carey’s storytelling, even if it is a little flowery for my tastes. I’ll simply attribute that to the nature of the people who are the main characters in her stories.

If this book has a flaw, it’s that it recounts the tales of the first three books far too often. I think that the other books in the series could stand on their own if they had to. By comparison, you cannot read Kushiel’s Scion and appreciate it as well, because it seems as though Imriel is always recounting one of Phèdre’s stories to someone. That’s fine, but it doesn’t do a lot for his story, which unfolds over the course of the book. I found myself constantly waiting for him to remove himself from the protection of the Montreve household and venture out on his own.

But overlooking that, the book offers a lot. The world that Carey sets here is quite beautiful. Very much it exists in fantasy, but it is very real and alive in her mind, and you can tell. You can even imagine that the places that people allude to in the book have rich histories, even if they are only mentioned in passing. Evidence of this exists in the multitude of Wikipedia entries for the Kushiel books.

When Did This Happen?
June 24, 2006

This is a first, because usually I ineffectually nominate myself for these things in an attempt to bolster my own self-worth. I wasn’t paying attention when I was nominated as a Philly Future featured blog.

Philly Future is what I consider the epicenter for my Philly readings. Disclosure: I’m not actually a resident of Philadelphia. I live in the suburbs (Downingtown) where I can shake my head and sigh as the city news flies by in Philly Future posts. Of course, the state and national issues are of interest to me (especially things like net neutrality), and the entertainment announcements are helpful in deciding what to do on the weekends.

Long Trip Shunned
June 22, 2006

One Saturday, I was hosting our weekly game of D&D at our house. We were lounging in the living room after the game session when the doorbell rang.

Under the porch lamp I found my dad, who said he had stopped by to tell me one thing or another - the details were unimportant - and that was all. I thanked him and closed the door, returning to my friends.

First Day of Camp
June 21, 2006

Instead of sending Abby to day care school all summer, we have elected instead to send her to the school’s summer camp.

The program is pretty nice. We drop her off at school in the morning as usual. A bus picks takes the campers from her school to the camp for the day, and brings them back to the school in the afternoon. We pick her up just like we would on a school day.

Campers need to be at school before the bus leaves, obviously. Our first day for this was on Monday. We were under the impression from the paperwork that the bus would depart at 8:15, which is well within our usual schedule.

The trick is that the bus driver or the school or someone decided that 8:15 wasn’t early enough to get the kids all the way to the camp (which is admittedly pretty far), and so the departure time was changed to 8:05.

So when we arrived at the school on Monday, I existed the car thinking we had plenty of time. When the bus started to pull out and one of the teachers started screaming to us from the school door, “Get on the bus! Get on the bus!” I was left running to the road to flag down the driver.

Abby didn’t seem to know what to make of the whole thing. I hurried her along, and didn’t even have a chance to say anything to her before her new camp adventure began.

What irks me about this experience is that when we pulled into the parking lot, several of the parents of the other kids going to camp were standing on the school’s little roofed stoop. They all seemed to know, why didn’t we?