Thursday, April 27, 2017

Creation myths and story love




It’s been some time since I fell as deeply into a story as I did with N.K. Jemisin’s The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms. Strangely, I say that even though I started reading it on vacation and had to put it aside for a couple of weeks after I got home. But when I picked it up again I fell right back in. That’s how much I retained my love of the characters and storyline.

This adult fantasy is a fresh take on creation myths and gods. I adore the volatile Nahadoth the Nightlord, and the child-like Sieh the Trickster. The “I” telling the tale is Yeine, a girl who at first seems to be a pawn in a deadly struggle but she turns out to be key to something entirely new. And she is badass through and through.

The story opens when Yeine is commanded to come to the city of Sky where her maternal grandfather, who is uncrowned king of the world, names her one of his heirs, much to her shock and the fury of others. She learns quickly that only one of his three heirs will succeed him, but she doesn’t find out what that entails for quite some time.

She is only half-blood of the powerful Arameri people. They are tall and pale. She is short and dark. The Arameri consider her people in Darr to be barbarians and treat her with disdain.

 The truth is Arameri are the most ruthless of all the lands. They are worshippers of the Bright Itempas, the god who created the world with the now-enslaved Nahadoth and now-dead Enefa.
We learn slowly with Yeine as she navigates Sky what the true histories of these gods and mortals are, their secrets and lies, their betrayals and bonds, their despair and hope, their rage and love.

This is the first book (and it was a debut!) in a trilogy. I definitely want to read the rest.

Here, have a few excerpts for voice and style.
 *
There were three gods once.
Only three, I mean. Now there are dozens, perhaps hundreds. They breed like rabbits. But once there were only three, most powerful and glorious of all: the god of day, the god of night, and the goddess of twilight and dawn. Or light and darkness and the shades between. Or order, chaos, and balance. None of that is important because one of them died, the other might as well have, and the last is the only one who matters anymore. 
*
"I cannot hope that your mother taught you duty," Dekarta said to me over this man's back. "She abandoned hers to dally with her sweet-tongued savage. I allowed this--an indulgence I have often regretted. So I will assuage that regret by bringing you back into the fold, Granddaughter. Whether you live or die is irrelevant. You are Arameri, and like all of us, you will serve."
*
Trickster, trickster, stole the sun for a prank. And apparently because it was pretty. The Three had borne many children before their falling-out. Sieh was immeasurably old, another of the Arameri's deadly weapons, and yet I could not bring myself to dash the shy hope I saw in his eyes.
*
It would do no good to run. So I said, "Good evening, Lord Nahadoth." I was proud that my voice did not quaver.
He inclined his head to me, then just stood there smoldering and looking ominous at the foot of my bed. Realizing that a god's sense of time was probably very different from a mortal's, I prompted, "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

Friday, April 14, 2017

A gorgeous, windy day for exploration and words

wind whips across the
Sound, carrying deep-water
chill and flinging gulls


brrrrrr. Haiku while walking at low tide along Puget Sound


Monday, February 20, 2017

hints of spring haiku

a gathering of
juncos dethrones a plump robin
from the budding peach tree

pair of woodpeckers--
female and jaunty-capped male
share the suet feeder

Saturday, February 4, 2017

YA for our times

In a time when being an immigrant is politically charged and when some people want to retreat behind walls of fear and hate, I read two excellent YA books that I highly recommend for people who prefer to explore and be open to other cultures. These aren’t happily-ever-after stories. They are bittersweet and do not flinch from spotlighting what makes any of us mistrust the “other”.

 In THE SUN IS ALSO A STAR, Nicola Yoon (National Book Award finalist) writes the love story of two really smart teenagers who, in the space of a day, discover deep truths about themselves, their families and culture, and the world they exist in.

Natasha is a girl who has faith in numbers, science and facts, probably solidified in reaction to her father. His dream of becoming a famed actor has left her family in poverty. But worse, his DUI leads to the discovery they are illegal immigrants from Jamaica who must leave the US immediately.

Daniel, a poet, is Korean American. His immigrant parents demand the best grades and professions from their sons. He is supposed to be interviewed for Yale when a series of events lead him to Natasha. For him, it’s some kind of sign or destiny.

She has no time for that, but something keeps drawing them closer together. Sure, there’s physical attraction but their budding love has more to do what they discover in the heart and soul of the other. They both know there will be no welcome for them as a couple in their families or communities, even if Natasha somehow finds a way to stop the deportation.

I listened to The Sun is Also a Star on audiobook, so I don’t have a way to quote lines, but I’ve listened to it twice now. That’s how much I love it.





WRITTEN IN THE STARS by Aisha Saeed had me turning pages at all hours as I became more and more terrified for the protagonist, Naila, a Pakistani American.

Even though she is raised in the US and has excelled in school, her parents keep the old ways, strict and unbending. Not only is she not allowed to date, they will choose her husband. But, as things go in both stories and in real life, Naila bends the rules and sets in motion an alarming series of events.

We’ve read news stories about forced marriages and honor killings, but what the author has done is take the reader into the life of a girl suddenly confronted with those horrors, a girl who had no idea this could happen to her.

At the same time, the story finds moments of hope and love.

The copy I purchased has a discussion guide at the end. This makes it an excellent choice for schools and book clubs.

 Of interest, too, is the distinction between forced marriage and arranged marriage. The author states she is happy in her arranged marriage. As well as being an author, she is a lawyer and founding member of the nonprofit We Need Diverse Books.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Shortest day, darkest night, moment of hope

Yesterday, the eve of Winter Solstice, my daughter and I went hiking in our favorite neighborhood forest where the air is always sweet with the scent of Douglas fir and Western red cedar. And we stumbled upon this...
The dictionary defines magic as the use of charms or rituals that produce extraordinary results, marvelous effects.
Sometimes magic just sneaks up on you. I don't know who built this labyrinth, but it had a marvelous  effect on me. I've been feeling down in these dark days, and this mystical surprise lifted my spirits and filled me with wonder.
Here are the beautiful stones in its center where my daughter and I both paused to drink in the forest as we took turns walking the labyrinth.
Even my own backyard made magic of the winter solstice when I noticed the sun shining though this metal sculpture of a labyrinth.
Here's to brighter days and moments of hope and magic in our lives. Happy Winter Solstice, everyone.


Friday, December 2, 2016

reflection while walking

after the rainfall,
the pathway littered with leaves
and reflections

haiku while walking in dark times

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Haiku and other thoughts of the season

October wind sends
leaves whispering, skittering
through the graveyard

There is a beautiful memorial park near my home where I sometimes walk when I  want peace, lots of enormous old trees, and a sea of emerald.

In fall, the palette expands.



Once I slipped into the mausoleum and was stunned by the stained glass everywhere.


Occasionally, melancholy creeps over me in cemeteries, but mostly I feel peaceful--a sense of being connected, in communion, to those who've been, those who are, and those who are still to come.



That seems appropriate on the Day of the Dead.