My human made me read another book. I admit, this might be related to the fact that I demolished her kitchen (again) because I somehow misinterpreted the whole idea of a barbecue. Took me a while to catch the furry creatures hiding behind the furniture. And then I wasn’t even allowed to roast them. (sigh). Humans. I will never understand them.
However, we agreed (she made me, by pointing directly to the door) that for reasons of redemption I am going to read another book or listen to one being narrated to me by a tin machine. Sadly, there is no orc liberation front anywhere near me to help me out of it.
So, my human said, that she is not going to be an ogre (no shit, human!) and will allow me to listen rather than read. I think, I have mentioned it elsewhere that – what with being an orc an all that – the only reason I am capable of reading at all, is by mere caprice of a wisecracker of a deity, which is unknown to me by name or creed. Bugger.
She also babbled something about this being the month of #victober (I think she’s making up the calendar just as she goes, which is rather orcish of her and I like it), so I am supposed to deal with victorious literature. Now, that came a bit as a relief to me, because victorious I am usually, being an orc.
Okay, okay. Shut up!
You knew it already, didn’t you? Ghastly humans. Yeah, no victorious victory anywhere in sight. But let me tell you, this tiny Victoria wouldn’t have made much of an impression in an orcish society. But there you go.
The books I am
forced volunteering to deal with are:
Here are my very personal (and somewhat orcish) views on both:
North and South
Now, this is a proper title. Clear directions is all it takes. Well done, Lizzy Gaskell. (I am beginning to have a little weakness for humans by the name of Elizabeth) Upon my word, there is more introspection in this book than you’d find in our whole tribe over several generations. It is so unorcish to question inner ongoings. Most of the time there aren’t any, that’s why. So, yeah.
Here’s Maggie Hale. Very self-opiniotated. Good. That is what intimidates your enemies just as much as any axe in your hand does. Which she doesn’t have. So she must do it all by words. She’s really good at it. Well done, Maggie.
Enter Mr. Thornton.
He is a bit of a mystery to me. I think he might be of dwarven origin, with all his industrious organizing stuff, regulated busy working hours and means of production.
His mother on the other hand is utterly adorable.
When I was forced to read Pride & Prejudice (that was before I ate the book) I admitted to liking Mrs. Bennet the most. As a father of numerous orclings I can totally relate to all the shit they have to put up with in order to get their young orclings properly settled elsewhere. Preferably in a tent at the other end of the camp.
So, yes, I kinda liked this one. It was much too long but I learned my lesson: Never eat a book with so many pages. It gives you constipation.
This was quite interesting (and delightfully short). I have lived in London for a short while (I was crawling out of the Thames after the above mentioned deity had shoved me through a portal into this world, needless to say, against my wishes).
But the London that I explored wasn’t as nearly as delightfully grim, gritty and gruesome (Ha! See what I did there? Oh, the way I have with words. I am quite versed in the use of illiter…, allur…, you know what I mean). Apparently I came at the wrong time.
All those details about the great stink very much reminded me of home and made me quite sentimental. The lawless backstreets, the ruthless greed, lovely. Definitely the best book for an orcish reading pleasure I was forced to deal with so far.
My human mentioned, that this Dickens guy she constantly talks about, wrote lots of very short novels that are situated in that shady world and time. Bring it on, babe. (Should it make me suspicious that she is grinning from ear to ear?)