The dragons have et me brain

At least that's what my head feels like at the moment. Stuffed with cotton wool. Thanks, ye dragons. Slaying's too good for you! (Grrr!)

On a brighter, non-dissertation related, note: My Mum dragged me furniture shopping yesterday as Segmüller had a special "30% + 10% off on everything" offer running. I found a sleek, little wardrobe for my coats and jackets, which I'll put on the landing just below the entrance door to my flat. (Or rather, those nice men who will bring the wardrobe to our place in a weeks' time will assemble and put it up there -- for just 50 € more!) I also found an armchair for my mini-library. It looks like this:



But with a fabric similar to this one:

Now I just have to reorganise and declutter my shelves AND figure out what to do with the empty wall above the piano, to make the whole library look a bit more classy. Oh yes, AND find a throw to cover the seat of the armchair and thus keep it (relatively) free of cat hair.

The Joys of the Dratted PhD Project, or I Heart Pratchett

You can spend a day on the couch, reading Pratchett. And it's research! :-) Lucky, lucky me. Here's a bit from Guards! Guards!, which had me in giggles. It illustrates quite nicely what I call the down-to-earthness about Pratchett's characters. And his wonderful sense for the absurd.

Now a black-robed figure scurried through the midnight streets, ducking from doorway to doorway, and reached a grim and forbidding portal. No mere doorway got that grim without effort, one felt. It looked as though the architect had been called in and given specific instructions. We want something eldritch in dark oak, he’d been told. So put an unpleasant gargoyle thing over the archway, give it a slam like the footfall of a giant and make it clear to everyone, in fact, that this isn’t the kind of door that goes “ding-dong” when you press the bell.

The figure rapped a complex code on the dark woodwork. A tiny barred hatch opened and one suspicious eye peered out.

“‘The significant owl hoots in the night,’” said the visitor, trying to wring the rainwater out of its robe.

“‘Yet many gray lords go sadly to the masterless men,’” intoned a voice on the other side of the grille.

“‘Hooray, hooray for the spinster’s sister’s daughter,’” countered the dripping figure.

“‘To the axeman, all supplicants are the same height.’”

“‘Yet verily, the rose is within the thorn.’”

“‘The good mother makes bean soup for the errant boy,’” said the voice behind the door.

There was a pause, broken only by the sound of the rain. Then the visitor said, “What?”

“‘The good mother makes bean soup for the errant boy.’”

There was another, longer pause. Then the damp figure said, “Are you sure the ill-built tower doesn’t tremble mightily at a butterfly’s passage?”

“Nope. Bean soup it is. I’m sorry.”

The rain hissed down relentlessly in the embarrassed silence.

“What about the cagèd whale?” said the soaking visitor, trying to squeeze into what little shelter the dread portal offered.

“What about it?”

“It should know nothing of the mighty deeps, if you must know.”

“Oh, the cagèd whale. You want the Elucidated Brethren of the Ebon Night. Three doors down.”

“Who’re you, then?”

“We’re the Illuminated and Ancient Brethren of Ee.”

If you haven't yet read a Pratchett novel, run, don't walk, to the nearest bookstore!

Cover Rant

2000: FANTASTIC cover:

2001: Nice cover:

2007: Bland cover:

That's not what I call progress! The current cover (the bland one) makes the book look like a schoolbook, imo. Argh! Now I'll have to buy it from abebooks....

Still working on the dratted PhD thingy

... hence more pictures. Like this one: new and improved organisation of the dish cabinet.

Feeling very blessed

I've got such great friends! They even support my strange, new fascination with dishes. :-) This will soon be mine:

Can you say pretty? What a wonderful "Betthupferl" (= itty-bitty bit of chocolate you eat before going to bed)!

Working on the dratted PhD thingy ...

... hence no time for proper posts.

What about pictures instead? Like this one:

Happy cat :-)

In Search for the Perfect Armchair

Wanted: Cozy armchair for mini-library

At the moment my mini-library contains only one (Ikea) dining chair, which currently acts as a bookchair, but could also be used by potential dinner guest No. 5 or 6 (I can add another board to my dining table and thus allow it to sit six people comfortably). At the moment it is also used in lieu of a stepladder when I need something from the higher shelves and the piano chair is in the den (don't ask). Despite this obvious usefulness of the chair, one thing it is not: a comfortable reading chair. And what would a library be without a comfy chair or armchair for reading and relaxing?

Hence the current search for an armchair.

As you know I discovered two chairs on ebay and quite fancied them. In the meantime, though, I've stumbled across an even prettier armchair:

The only problem is: it's made in France (by Grange), and I'm not quite sure whether I can get it here in Germany. Hmmm ...

Apart from pondering these weighty problems, I'm still marking papers (ack) and I'm still reading Heyer's Regency Buck. Oh, and I still haven't finished grading my stack of RITA books either. But at least the spring break is now upon us and for the time being there are no more classes to prepare.

P.S. Rosemary Laurey's vampire teddy-bear never fails to make me smile :)

Friday Evening Idyll with Kitteh

Spent the day marking exams and term projects. Now I feel as if a load of bricks dropped onto my head. Will spent the rest of Friday evening curled up on the couch with Teh Kitteh and a nice cup of tea.

And books.

Did I mention the books?

The first batch of "research" material for my "Reading the Romance" seminar arrived earlier today: four Georgette Heyer novels, Georgette Heyer's Regency World, The Sheik, and The Mistress of Mellyn. (The DHL guy appeared rather worried again about the large number of amazon packages he had to deliver to me today... *g*)

Taking a break from marking exams

I'm wondering whether these armchairs will look good in my flat. Hmmm... I need a small comfortable armchair for my library, and the other one would go into the sitting room.

Yes, I can!

Teach a course on romance fiction next winter, that is. :-) Needless to say that I'm thrilled!

I did some research on amazon to see which books are still in print, and I'm happy to report that both Holt's "Mistress of Mellyn" AND Hull's "The Sheik" are still available. Holt's books seem to have been reissued a few years ago with suitably gothic covers. Nice!

Have ordered "Mistress of Mellyn," "Time of the Hunter's Moon," "The Sheik," several books by Heyer, "Georgette Heyer's Regency World," and "The Private World of Georgette Heyer." This is going to be so much fun!

Sandy says ARGH!

Started to read another Regency-set historical. After twenty pages or so I came to a scene in which the hero meets the heroine's brother (= an earl) for the first time, and after something like 15 they decide not to stand on ceremony, drop the formal adress and use Christian names instead.

*head desk*

Teaching the Romance

Tomorrow - or rather, later today - the teaching staff of the British Studies at Mainz will discuss the programme for next winter. (Head-spin alarm! After all, we haven't even yet finished our current winter semester!!!) After consulting Eric Selinger's course materials, leafing through Pamela Regis's "A Natural History of the Romance Novel," and staring at the romance shelves in my mini-library for long, long minutes, I've decided I'll propose to teach a course on "Reading the Romance." So far I've been reluctant to do so, because I've made the experience that teaching something you love can end in disaster. ("Fantastic Parodies," anybody?) (Though, truth to be told, the Thackeray course was actually worse as most of my students refused to do the reading assignments. O joy, what fun that was!) But teaching another course "Introduction to British Drama" would be a bit boring, I expect, hence the decision for "Reading the Romance."

Collage of a Poem

Once again, I couldn't stay away from poetry. :-) Enjoy!

Where had his love been then? The love he had so grandly declared over and over again.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear ...

In the end, it had turned out to be nothing but pomp and illusion. The man who had stood in front of her, shredding her life to pieces, had been a stranger. A cold-hearted stranger, with ice flowing through his veins.

And I will love thee still, my dear ...

Accusations had spilled from his lips in a sheer endless stream and had burrowed into her skin like acid. He had given her no opportunity for explanations. And even if she had been able to make them, they would have fallen onto deaf ears.

O my luve is like a red, red rose ...

She remembered the numbness of her lips as the blood had drained from her face, as she had realised that this was the end.

Happy Diss-ing :-)

Isn't it wonderful that just when I'm writing the chapter on emancipated virgin maidens, an encyclopedia on women in SF and fantasy should be published? And it's a truly great reference book on top of that!! Yay! So I spent this day snuggled up on my couch with a big pot of tea, happily leaving through the two volumes and reading entries that might prove to be relevant for my dissertation. That's what I call fun research! :-)

Playing with the Dishes

Today more of my lovely red transferware plates arrived. Naturally, I had to see whether they look indeed as nice on the new tablecloth as I imagined. And they do! :-)

Playing with the Muse

Georgina gave him another clap on the shoulder, but Finnian only chuckled and settled back with his head against her knee. And as she looked down on his unruly dark hair, a most curious sensation came over her. The years fell away, and it was another young man sitting at her feet, another dark head leaning against her knee. Like that time when she had stood among Dr. Neuburg's collection of dead birds, the memories rose and whirled around her in a mad dance. Past and present melted into one.

He had poured out his innermost thoughts, had let her into the closely guarded bastion of his heart. Glowing with ardent love, he had read poems to her, out in the gardens, where the wind had ruffled his dark hair.

"Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
O I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands of life shall run."

Empty fancies of youth.

How quickly his ardour had passed. And still ... and still ...

But it was her son who turned his head and smiled at her sweetly.

"Ah Mama, I love you so."

A short, sharp sting in her heart, then she leaned forward and stroked his cheek. "I love you, too, my Finn."

So much that she had given up her past and all that she had once been. So much that she had turned her memories into pale spectres. Horrid ghosts, which she tried to keep under lock and key because their bones could never be found and buried.

But Georgina had no regrets. Given a choice, she would do it all again.

Happy, happy, happy! :-)

In Love

... with my dishes. :-)

Today the first batch of plates (Crown Ducal's "Bristol," small), and they're so, so pretty! And they go so well with one of my new tablecloths.

(Note to self: Give tea-party soon!)

LOLKitty from I Can Has Cheezburger?

Dooodledoo

Still Life (sort of) with Cat

Kitty bottoms must be kept warm and can't be allowed to rest on cold marble of window sills. Hence the white towel-covered pillow on the window sill in the dining area. :-) (When Jago first became ill in May 2007, I started to keep the cat pillows covered with old white towels and old white pillow cases as these can be boiled if necessary.)

And so here is a picture of my dining table with the mid-day sun falling in through the windows. The yellow of the walls is a bit darker and warmer in reality, and sunlight makes it positively glow.

One of the books I bought during the 60% rebates on everything offer at Fictionwise, is this anthology:

I bought it because of the Lisa Kleypas story, of course. (Yup, still glomming Kleypas.) Nevertheless, I started with Loretta Chase's "The Mad Earl's Bride" and LOVED it! The ending is, perhaps, a bit abrupt, but who cares? It's a lovely story, with a no-nonsense heroine and a tormented hero (who's actually got a good reason for being tormented!). And adorable Bertie Trent! :-)

Favourite passages include:

"It’s only Gwen,” Bertie was saying, misconstruing the issues, as usual. “She ain’t half bad, for a girl. Not like Jess—but I shouldn’t wish m’sister on anybody, especially you, even though you’d be m’brother then, because I can’t think of anything worse than a fellow having to listen to her the livelong day. Not but what Dain can manage her—but he’s bigger than you, and even so, I daresay he’s got his hands full. Still, they’re already shackled, so you’re safe from her, and Gwen ain’t like her at all. When Abonville told us you was wanting to get married, and he was thinking Gwen would suit, I said—”

“Bertie, I wasn’t wanting to get married,” Dorian broke in. “It is a ridiculous mistake.”

And:

Dorian laughed. “Dain was still at Eton when Bertie first came,” he explained. “About once a fortnight, Bertie would fall down the stairs or trip over something or otherwise contrive to stumble into His Lordship’s path. Fortunately, I was on the spot the first time and hustled Bertie away before Dain could dispose of him by more violent means. After that, whenever your cousin strayed into the Satanic presence, His Lordship would summon me. ‘Camoys,’ he would say, as cool as you please. ‘It’s back. Make it go away.’ And so I would make Bertie disappear.”

“I can see Dain doing it. And you, too.” She patted his arm. “It is your protective streak.”

“It was my instinct for self-preservation,” Dorian indignantly informed her. “I was scarcely twelve, and Dain, even at sixteen, was as big as a house. He had but to set one huge hand on my head to squash me like a bug.” He grinned. “Still, I admired him tremendously. I should have given anything to get away with what he did.”

Further favourite passages are unquotable because they contain spoilers (and kisses! and other stuff *g*) .