Shadow of Blahhhh – Deborah Harkness

Before I Kindled the sequel to Deborah Harkness’ atrocious A Discovery of Witches, I asked myself, Why?

Why would I put myself through that mind-numbing frustration, vacillating between being impressed with descriptive writing and being appalled at the utter stupidity of the so-called romance and the so-called plot. Plot! Hah! My roast vegetable have more plot than this book. Plus the roast vegetables are freaking delicious!

Look at all that delicious plot. 

Why? According to Seth, it is because I enjoy being miserable. He should know, he has to listen to me when I am. Also, that sounds like something my mother would say about me. My brother claims he understands that I have to see this through. I HAVE TO KNOW. Or maybe I am a sadist, like that lady who does chapter by chapter reviews of 50 Shades of Grey. (I have heard a lot of accusations saying this book is un-American despite being set in Boston or whatever, because of tea or prams or whatever, but my main bug in this line is the spelling of Grey. Grey is British spelling; Gray, American. Everytime I see the cover, I mentally correct it to Gray).

Every dang time.

So far I have gotten to Chapter 4. As you can imagine nothing important has happened, even though they are on the run for their lives basically. Christopher Marlowe makes an appearance. Other people do too, but I had to read Faustus last semester (weird and unimpressive, only because I was expecting something like a play version of Swinburne’s Faustine), and was curious about Marlowe. Of course, Marlowe is in love with Christian. I mean Matthew. Because Matthew is so lovable despite being grumpy, rude and one-dimensional. Also stupid. How stupid? Oh LET ME COUNT THE WAYS.

One of the reasons they go back in time is because the Congregation (the Creature Council, basically) disapproves of marriage/mating between species. Diana and Matthew are threatened and tortured because of it. And also because drama = plot for Harkness. So in modern times, Matthew says the Congregation is not as powerful as it once was, but they still managed to do a lot of harm. So what is the first thing Matthew does when he GOES BACK IN TIME, WHEN THE CONGREGATION IS EVEN MORE POWERFUL?

He fucking tells everyone that Diana is a witch and she is his wife. Every. Bloody. One. His servants, his friends, the bitter guy with an unrequited love for him. And for what purpose? No freaking idea. It doesn’t serve anymore purpose than if he’d just  told them she was his captive, or some girl he’d found or some friend of the family’s that he was now responsible for. Nope. Matthew is SO BRAVE, that’s why he tells every Tom, Dick and Harry that the goddamned witch is his wife. What happens? She gets accused of witchcraft in the village.

In fact, this is unworthy of a full facepalm because it is just too ridiculous.

The other reason they go back in time is because witches of our modern era are weak and   have no mojo to teach SuperPoweredGoddesWitch Diana to get a handle on her powers, and so they need a proper witch from the past to educate Diana. So I assumed that when they chose that specific time to return to, it was because Matthew knew there would be a witch or witches there to teach Diana. Otherwise, what was the point of going all the way back there and putting your friends and family in jeopardy while you took off, right?

This is how I think they feel about their friends and family.

So guess what happens when they get there. Nothing. Nothing happens. Because Matthew not only doesn’t know a single goddamn witch, THEY’VE ALL MOVED AWAY BECAUSE OF HIM. This may have occurred to him while hatching this plan with his mated nitwit Diana, but as you can see, Matthew is not the brightest bulb on display. Instead of some awesome witch, they drag in the village healer so that Diana can show off in front of her so that later she can accuse Diana of being a witch in the marketplace. Oh joy.

See what I mean by frustration? Yet the descriptions of food is just so wonderful, and I can see there’s a talented writer under all that absolute buffoonery.

That’s right Deadpool, a man I would love more if he were not so incomprehensible.

Pratchett and the Leash

After seeing an adorable photo of an obedient, neat looking cat at the end of the leash, I decided that I would once again attempt to leash Pratchett. As I leashed him, a Voice said, Do You Remember What Happened The Last Time You Tried To Leash Him? (It sounded very similar to the Voice that said Do You Remember What Happened The Last Time You Decided To Eat A Whole Bag of Chachos With Braces? [I had a jaw ache for a week, that’s what happened] I ate the bag of Chachos anyway).

The last time I leashed Pratchett, he disappeared under the bed for awhile and the reappeared sans harness. MY CAT IS HARRY HOUDINI!!! Hairy Houdini? And then he sulked the whole day like a right snotty little prince. But he is so cute that it was okay, and I didn’t leash him for awhile. Until I saw that picture.

So now Pratchett is sitting as far away from me as possible, with his little polka dot harness on. I did attempt to walk him, only all those ‘walk’ attempts turned into ‘drag’ or ‘ineffectual tugging’. But he needs some discipline in his life, and since I’m not doing it, I shall let the harness do the job.

Is this a dashing kitty or what? Look at that handsome, disciplined stance. One day Pratchett too will achieve it.