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I wish for once that authors would accommodate a large number and variety of awesome people in their novels, and nevermind whether or not they clash horribly or show up interesting contrasts. And, this above all, your high-feminist priestess/warrior-chick does not have to, and should not be forced to, in any way/shape/form negate your delicate, poised, lovely young princess. Hell, they can be the same person, what with that thing about being able to contain multitudes. But if they aren't--and yes, the same society can bloody well accommodate both/all sorts, bloodygods--then they can get along, or at least, you, the narrator/author needn't play such stark favourites, please please, prettyfuckingplease.
and no. Just, no. Down Guinevere, Up Morgana is not a fun game, no indeed it is not. Especially when, dear Marion Zimmer Bradley, especially when you make Guinevere a sweet, simpering, missish young girl, and seem to forget that female leisure is a relatively new creature and the bloody High Queen of Britain will, in fact, not get to sit around stitching Christian tapestries all the bloody time. Where are her godsfucking courtiers, I ask you? Where are her lands, her vassals, her maids-of-honour, her coterie. And not, not, not absofuckinglutely not just the high born women of her husband's clan/court, where are her women? and why is she behaving like someone out of a saas-bahu serial?
Argh.
Bloody T.H. White (god rest his dead white male soul) at least made me cry with the people. It's the bloody Arthuriad, what's the point if they're not all great-hearted fools who break you to teeny tiny miniscule pieces? What is this Tristan and Isolde?
[/rant]
and no. Just, no. Down Guinevere, Up Morgana is not a fun game, no indeed it is not. Especially when, dear Marion Zimmer Bradley, especially when you make Guinevere a sweet, simpering, missish young girl, and seem to forget that female leisure is a relatively new creature and the bloody High Queen of Britain will, in fact, not get to sit around stitching Christian tapestries all the bloody time. Where are her godsfucking courtiers, I ask you? Where are her lands, her vassals, her maids-of-honour, her coterie. And not, not, not absofuckinglutely not just the high born women of her husband's clan/court, where are her women? and why is she behaving like someone out of a saas-bahu serial?
Argh.
Bloody T.H. White (god rest his dead white male soul) at least made me cry with the people. It's the bloody Arthuriad, what's the point if they're not all great-hearted fools who break you to teeny tiny miniscule pieces? What is this Tristan and Isolde?
[/rant]
