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I have finished, for the fifth time, 'Freedom and Necessity'. As always, I feel faintly inadequate. I grasp three-quarters of what happens and infer the rest. Perhaps it's the amount of ten-cent words used. Or maybe I am more like Kitty than Susan, anyway.
At least I do not use long, unending, run-on sentences. And how quickly I forgot to notice them as well.
I would be amused, I think, except that, like James, I talk to myself when I write these notes. Very self-absorbing, to be sure. But I shall try and not let it affect me.
Sadly, I suspect that I wear at least a few masks--though I am nowhere near as competent about hiding my feelings as even Kitty is. Perhaps I am closer to Richard, then.
Hrm. Food for thought.
Freedom and Necessity always affects me profoundly. It's like having every episode of Farscape suddenly thrust into your brain along with Cable's history, and 20,000 copies of Jane Eyre, Sense and Sensibility, and Persuasion.
There are always differences in the readings. This time, I read it and noted Susan's handiness with a gun. Fulfilling, of course, my Girls With Guns quota. Perhaps for the week if not the last few days.
James is John Crichton, of course, but flung back in time 150 years, and with more of Scorpius' reserve than his own insanity.
I do not say James is cold and unfeeling. More that he, like Scorpy, cloaks what he thinks and feels from everyone around him--even, or most especially, those he cares for.
*pause* And I have discovered a fallacy in my own writing--I reflect what I read.
Should I venture to read a pirate romance, I expect to churn out bad smut scenes. For now, I content myself with somewhat flowery verbiage and the knowledge that there may be magic in the world.
At least I do not use long, unending, run-on sentences. And how quickly I forgot to notice them as well.
I would be amused, I think, except that, like James, I talk to myself when I write these notes. Very self-absorbing, to be sure. But I shall try and not let it affect me.
Sadly, I suspect that I wear at least a few masks--though I am nowhere near as competent about hiding my feelings as even Kitty is. Perhaps I am closer to Richard, then.
Hrm. Food for thought.
Freedom and Necessity always affects me profoundly. It's like having every episode of Farscape suddenly thrust into your brain along with Cable's history, and 20,000 copies of Jane Eyre, Sense and Sensibility, and Persuasion.
There are always differences in the readings. This time, I read it and noted Susan's handiness with a gun. Fulfilling, of course, my Girls With Guns quota. Perhaps for the week if not the last few days.
James is John Crichton, of course, but flung back in time 150 years, and with more of Scorpius' reserve than his own insanity.
I do not say James is cold and unfeeling. More that he, like Scorpy, cloaks what he thinks and feels from everyone around him--even, or most especially, those he cares for.
*pause* And I have discovered a fallacy in my own writing--I reflect what I read.
Should I venture to read a pirate romance, I expect to churn out bad smut scenes. For now, I content myself with somewhat flowery verbiage and the knowledge that there may be magic in the world.
