Ned Hayes's Blog, page 67
December 10, 2014
December 9, 2014
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink. —...
The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink. — T.S. Eliot
December 8, 2014
winter road
BOOK QUOTE:
“The road is a river of ice, slick and unforgiving. A harsh sweep of white iron, smooth as glass and cold enough to freeze any uncovered inch of flesh to the surface. Hillocks and haystacks rise up, isles in a smoking brume. Here and there snow has blown aside, revealing the line of the great white stone road that slices through the hills.”
“On most nights under the winter moon when we have made our...
“On most nights under the winter moon when we have made our camp, around us echo faint sounds of that other hidden world—the one of meadow and forest in the night. The melody of whip-poor-will, the cry of hunting owl, the scurrying rush of vole and chasing fox. It is as if some great razor scraped the life from this sheet of white-edged vellum, leaving only blank.”
"Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in a...
"Stars steam away as a pale sun rises, hot coal dropped in a watery sky. Light seeps across the forest as the reedy shrieks of wood fowl echo in the trees. The path from our village to the King’s Highway is no road at all. To the east, that faint track leads up through the forest until it reaches, finally, the open country and paths that lead to other places. Hob is taking us beyond the bounds of the known world.”
— from the novel SINFUL FOLK
PHOTO: Krkonoše and the moon above it by Sea Swallow Me on Flickr.
December 7, 2014
BOOK QUOTE:
“Fog lifts in the valley, rising as mist through the...
BOOK QUOTE:
“Fog lifts in the valley, rising as mist through the bare limbed trees. Far below, the deeping combe with our village in the heart of it. My whole world for nearly a decade has been contained in that place – and now the village of Duns is so small. I hold up my hand, form a circle with my fingers. Now the distant village seems a child’s plaything that I can hold in my own hand, wreathed in gossamer mist.”
— from the novel Sinful Folk
PHOTO: yashicat5: #chaves 2014
December 6, 2014
BOOK QUOTE:
"A bird calls, distant and wounded. The woods are...
BOOK QUOTE:
"A bird calls, distant and wounded. The woods are still as death. Quick steam huffs in and out of Geoff’s open mouth. And with that, the dangerous moment seems past. We gather wood and help Tom build his fire. As I pick up spare twigs and dried bracken, I wonder how far our sounds penetrate into the black forest, and how far our shouts echo along the White Road."
PHOTO: northwezt — Mount Rainier National Park, WA Flickr / Instagram
December 5, 2014
Book Review - Backporchevations
REVIEW from Backporchervations
Absolutely fascinating! I missed a chance to read this book earlier in the year, and am so, SO glad to have had this opportunity.
I’d like to say that some of the prejudices outlined in this book set in the Dark Ages are no longer present in our world, but I’d be a liar.
Granted, the tragedy is horribly unimaginable. Five young boys burned to death. And it wasn’t an accident. Someone had tied the door to the house shut. We can only hope the perpetrator(s) would burn … for eternity. And, because of the religious climate of the time, the village folk blamed this on the Jews.
Only slightly less heinous, is the growing suspicions that these boys were going to be sold into ‘indentured servanthood’, which at the time was little better (if at all) than slavery. Lower social classes of the time could apparently not even travel out of their villages without written permission from whatever ‘nobleman’ ruled their area. This is another time period in which I would not have lasted long? A permission slip to travel to the next town over to visit family? Luckily for me, most of the words I would spew at anyone trying to stop me would probably be misunderstood. Unluckily for me, they would probably accuse me of witchcraft and cursing them with incantations.
And then there is Mear, aka Miriam. What a resourceful woman! After giving birth to a son, an earl tries to have her (and the child, I presume) killed – probably to avoid having a ‘bastard’ get any of his estate. Not only does Miriam get away with her son, but she manages to hide as the mute man ‘Mear’, and live in a small village for nearly ten years, including those first breastfeeding months!
As the ‘father’ of Christian, she travels with the other fathers (and the charred corpses) in order to demand justice against the supposedly Jewish murderers. They encounter many dangers and hardships on the way, and are eventually accused in a religious court at a monastery for not burying their dead sons and for theft and sentenced to death by fire. Incidentally, I was surprised at how long it took me to make the connection that Mear would have two problems if her secrets came out at that court. One, she was a woman dressed and living as a man, which I can’t believe the monks of the time would view as ‘natural’ and with a name like ‘Miriam’, many of her good Christian neighbors would probably turn on her.
Sinful Folk is an artfully worded historical fiction, as melodic as many ballads and religious chants of the time. It is also a wonderful lesson in the dangers of prejudice and jumping to conclusions. I can’t wait to read his next book.
If you like historical fiction, this book should be on your shelves! (Oh wait, this is 2014, ok, on your Kindle or Nook then.)
Book Review – Backporchevations was originally published on NedNote
"Stars flicker above, points of bright ice in a dark river. I...
"Stars flicker above, points of bright ice in a dark river. I pull a heavy sheepskin around my legs and stretch my feet towards the fire. Despite the cold, Liam plays his lute, the sound whistling through the night. Soon my eyes are heavy, my head nodding."
