...from a BookLover

Wednesday 27 March 2013

So this is why...

...old books smell so good!

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What would I do without my friends who find all these great pictures to show me?!

Sunday 24 March 2013

Dreams made flesh - a Sunday teaser

After reading The Black Jewels trilogy I kind of felt that the ending left me wanting for more. I wondered about those small stories only hintet at during those books, and I especially wanted a proper ending. Now, I cannot tell you anything about this ending in case I might spoil it for you, but let us just say that I found it interesting and exciting enough to go hunting for the sequel I knew was out there real quick.

Dreams made flesh consists of four stories from the Black Jewels universe. Two precede the trilogy itself, one takes place in the middle of it and one continues where the trilogy ended. Today's teaser is a story that takes place after the events in the second book, Heir to the shadows. It is the story of how Lucivar came to have a wife. Considering his temper, this says a lot about the woman in question..

 Enjoy!
"Your offer to teach her was a kind gesture," Lucivar said. "But, Marian? This is a witch who, when she was sixteen, blew up the kitchen at the Hall because she confused the spell she was putting together with the casserole she and her friend Karla were making and put the wrong mixture in the oven. Think about that for a minute. Casserole. Spell. They couldn't tell the difference by looking at what was in the dishes." 
"She blew up the kitchen?" 
"Destroyed it. Right down to the last wooden spoon."
The Prince of Ebon Rih, Dreams made flesh, p. 152

Dreams made flesh by Anne Bishop

PS: There are a few more sequels than just this one, and I intend to read them all at one point. This universe keeps fascinating me - and who does not want to read stories featuring kindred wolves and unicorns and all the other things that exist in a world where magic is in your blood? Where temper and passion run equally high and violence is a part of you? The stories range from the very darkest to moments of utter joy - and all the friendship and family you can wish for.


More teasers:
Flukten fra virkeligheten
Should Be Reading


Saturday 23 March 2013

The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore

Such a wonderful little animation - if you have not seen this before you will adore it. Promise!




The book by the same name is written by William Joyce - and it is a must have (at least for me).


Thursday 21 March 2013

~A tiny touch of sadness~

                                            My Heart and I

                                   I.
                                   ENOUGH ! we’re tired, my heart and I.
                                      We sit beside the headstone thus,
                                      And wish that name were carved for us.
                                   The moss reprints more tenderly
                                      The hard types of the mason’s knife,
                                      As heaven’s sweet life renews earth’s life
                                   With which we’re tired, my heart and I. 
                                   II.
                                   You see we’re tired, my heart and I.
                                      We dealt with books, we trusted men,
                                      And in our own blood drenched the pen,
                                   As if such colours could not fly.
                                      We walked too straight for fortune’s end,
                                      We loved too true to keep a friend ;
                                   At last we’re tired, my heart and I. 
                                   III.
                                   How tired we feel, my heart and I !
                                      We seem of no use in the world ;
                                      Our fancies hang grey and uncurled
                                   About men’s eyes indifferently ;
                                      Our voice which thrilled you so, will let
                                      You sleep; our tears are only wet :
                                   What do we here, my heart and I ? 
                                   IV.
                                   So tired, so tired, my heart and I !
                                      It was not thus in that old time
                                      When Ralph sat with me ‘neath the lime
                                   To watch the sunset from the sky.
                                      ‘Dear love, you’re looking tired,’ he said;
                                      I, smiling at him, shook my head :
                                   ‘Tis now we’re tired, my heart and I. 
                                   V.
                                   So tired, so tired, my heart and I !
                                      Though now none takes me on his arm
                                      To fold me close and kiss me warm
                                   Till each quick breath end in a sigh
                                      Of happy languor. Now, alone,
                                      We lean upon this graveyard stone,
                                   Uncheered, unkissed, my heart and I. 
                                   VI.
                                   Tired out we are, my heart and I.
                                      Suppose the world brought diadems
                                      To tempt us, crusted with loose gems
                                   Of powers and pleasures ? Let it try.
                                      We scarcely care to look at even
                                      A pretty child, or God’s blue heaven,
                                   We feel so tired, my heart and I. 
                                   VII.
                                   Yet who complains ? My heart and I ?
                                      In this abundant earth no doubt
                                      Is little room for things worn out :
                                   Disdain them, break them, throw them by
                                      And if before the days grew rough
                                      We once were loved, used, — well enough,
                                   I think, we’ve fared, my heart and I.
                                        Elizabeth Barrett Browning


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Tuesday 19 March 2013

A Tuesday teaser (in lack of a Sunday one...)

I was stuck with no internet the entire weekend, which meant I could not give you my teaser then. Hopefully you will still enjoy it today - although there is a lack of the nice, cosy Sunday breakfast-feel to it, I admit...!

This book caught my interest due to its name, The Stone Book Quartet. The title intrigued me enough to pick it up and read it to figure out the source of the naming. The language is beautiful - and often coloured by a local dialect. It is indeed quite a lyrical book which left me wanting for more. Perhaps I should see what else Alan Garner has to offer?

The memories/stories captured within these pages are truly charming. The four stories all tell of a single day in four childrens lives. A day that changed them. A day that helped them shape their own wants and hopes for the future. I was quite surprised of the picture these four days drew when put into a sequense. A delightful surprise, I might add, that found me flipping back to earlier pages. I hope you will be pleasantly surprised, too.

I think I liked the first story the most out of the four. Perhaps due to the warm feel to the story - the lightheartedness - or perhaps because I liked that secret the best. The teaser comes from this story, called The Stone Book.

Do tell me which one you favoured if you read the book - I am most curious to know.

Here is my teaser:

" 'Who-whoop! Wo-whoop! Wo-o-o-o!' 
   Mary laughed. The wind blew on the spire and made the weathercock seem alive. The feathers of its tail were a marvel. 
   Father twisted the spike with his hands against the wind, and the spike moved in its greased socket, shaking a bit, juddering, but firm. To Mary the weathercock was waking. The world turned. Her bonnet fell off and hung by its ribbon, and the wind filled her hair. 
   'Faster! Faster!' she shouted. 'I'm not frit!' She banged her heels on the golden sides, and the weathercock boomed. "
The Stone Book in The Stone Book Quartet, p. 11

The Stone Book Quartet by Alan Garner

More teasers:
Flukten fra virkeligheten
Should Be Reading


Wednesday 13 March 2013

A dream of flying - with faeries, perhaps?


“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world,
For I would ride with you upon the wind,
Run on the top of the dishevelled tide,
And dance upon the mountains like a flame.”

~ W. B. Yeats, The Land of Heart's Desire ~


Dream of flying by Artur Szygulski


Monday 11 March 2013

A Raven Mystery-teaser

Tonight I picked up one of the books I got when I was in London. This one is a book for younger readers aging 8 to 12 or thereabouts, but the hilarious characters and the quirkiness of it got me really enjoying it.

The storyteller is an old, curious and intelligent raven - who for obvious reasons is having troubles communicating the dangers that lurk around the castle to everyone living there (and who are not quite normal people, mind you). As you well can imagine this leads to funny situations...and a lot of flapping and stalking about.

The raven refers to himself as "my feathery self" and flicks his beak to convey self-composure and elegance when he is rather in fact a bit unsteady at times due to either clumsiness or his old age. I really cannot be sure. He notoriously breaks out of his cage. He has a weekness for the girl of the house - perhaps due to her black hair which reminds him of his late mrs. At one point he applauds himself when he lands on the back of a chair "at only [his] second attempt" after swooping across a hall! The bird even has a sassy tongue (or sassy thoughts, rather) with opinions and contemplations to complete the picture you just have to love.

Now, over to my teaser:
" Castle Otherhand is home to all sorts of oddballs, lunatics and fruitcakes. It's just as well for all of them that they have a secret weapon: he's called Edgar. " 
Flood and Fang by Marcus Sedgwick
I have not yet finished the book, but it is an easy read. It even contains little illustrations of the raven and the things he gets up to. All in all, this book is well worth your time - and if you happen to have a child I am sure he or she would love sharing it with you. Perhaps this is a perfect read-aloud?


More teasers:
Flukten fra virkeligheten
Should Be Reading

Tuesday 5 March 2013

A birthday present

Got this amazing book for my birthday last week. Such a treasure! I have the best mum in the entire world 

Seven Novels by Jules Verne

Sunday 3 March 2013

A different kind of teaser today!



Last week I found this wonderful item on sale. This is the second book following Simon's Cat - only this time he boldly ventures out of doors. There are so many great stories within this book, and they are all told by drawings - there is not a single word in the whole work! This charming, funny and mischievous cat gets into a lot of trouble and quite a few peculiar situations. I love cats. This book (as well as the first one) got me laughing really good. I hope you love it as much as I did! Enjoy the teaser!



Simon's Cat: Beyond the Fence by Simon Tofield


There are also loads of animations of Simon's Cat on YouTube, if you would like to see more.


More teasers:
Flukten fra virkeligheten
Should Be Reading

Friday 1 March 2013

One of the weirdest blogs around!

I have to share this link with you.

It is to The Odd Chronicle - the blog to Odd Luminary. This is a place of wonders and nightmares. Here you can read stories or buy strange tidbits from the curio shop, shake your head a bit about something you see or read or just marvel at the phrasing (like I did today). You can even get some very special books in here!

Well, anyway - enjoy visiting this fun place.

The Odd Luminary
The Odd Chronicle


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