still not a face.

now holding a book. || otherwise known as @anosewithlegs

[literary-nose]

the question was - where was dominic rusher?

[literary-nose]

"am i searching for a non existent dramatic irony" perfectly summarises the experience of reading the thoughts of an unreliable narrator.

[deus-ex-aquila]

[literary-nose]

what in the basil hallward

[literary-nose]

daniel arlington.

[literary-nose]

perhaps it is indeed a pleasant feeling, to be on top of the world. to know that you are unsurpassable, and that you will always have a spot amongst the winners, constantly threatening each and every one to steal their place. to be first. to leads and to guide. to be entirely and utterly unbeatable.

and perhaps it is indeed daunting to live, knowing that one day, it might all be taken away at once. yet perhaps it is even scarier to live without such an awareness, without the blessing of such a mere notion.

perhaps it is indeed gut-wrenching, when what should have been obvious occurs unexpectedly and pushes you over the edge. humiliates and shoves back. spits, laughs, points and mocks. uplifts someone else, worshipping him as your superior, when he is anything but.

and perhaps the sheer rage that this awakens is, in the heat of the moment, liberating, only to become dreadful and horrifying within the following second. perhaps it does send shivers down your spine - the realisation of your very own capabilities, your loathing, bitterness - and what they could unfold into, should they be left unsupervised, as a feisty toddler would. oh, but darling, that fear does not subject you to itself; it never did.

perhaps what is really liberating is to feel the water finally surround and embrace you. to feel his taunting gaze lingering on your own face, observing. studying. ridiculing. to invoke to your own contempt, to attempt to utilise it and abolish. yet all that you hear is a loud hitch of a breath - once coming in a voice that sounds way too familiar.

and all you know is that your paper crown has fallen off, soaked and torn to shreds in the hands of the enemy. the one who is and always has been better, though your resentful soul would never admit it.

one may think that death comes swiftly, stealing one's breath away in a gentle touch. leaving him alone in the darkness, filling his lungs not with air, but with an amalgam of thick water and his own thin blood. regretting all that his hands had brought upon his existence.

but that would never be the case. even in becoming one with the night, his spirit ranges for revenge - in spite, pure spite of the fact that the one he should be vengeful towards is his own self. finding comfort in repugnance. not lamenting, and not allowing himself to be mourned, preferring to be left at the mercy of the vulgarity of the circumstance.

[literary-nose]

"he's a genius, that boy. he could be a translator for un if he wanted to be."

yes. and you know what else he is, edmund?

on the spectrum.

[literary-nose]

it's,, that feeling when you're reading a book/playing a game/watching a movie/whatever and it. contains another one of your interests. so it's an interest within an interest. which is so exciting.

[literary-nose]

some thoughts on 'the cruel prince'.

though it did not take me long to finish this book, it certainly did take me just about longer than i anticipated. and, frankly? that was because, me, personally, i did not find it particularly enjoyable.

to begin with, one of the main points i found somewhat iffy was the intermingling of the two worlds, particularly so the way it was portrayed. of course, i understand that, seeing as there needs to be some sort of a differentiating manoeuvre, there would be descriptions of the mortal world too. i find it entirely unfit, however, for things such as real life corporations to be named. i really feel like, though some may state that it adds to the realism, it also ruins the atmosphere as a whole, nevermind the fact that we are not in the world of fae anymore. if mentioning an event happening at a store is necessary, that can be done without the name of said store appearing anywhere on the pages.

further, the events of the book were not distributed evenly along all nearly 400 pages of it. on occasion, it felt like certain points of the story carried on endlessly, and when they didn't, everything was developing at the speed of light, ridding said points and events of the slightest bit of logic they had. view me however you like, but i did not find any sense in cardan's suddenly being friendly with jude and everyone else, for example, - and no, i will not accept alcohol as an excuse. on top of that, after spending a few days being nice and polite, once crowned king, he decides that it is high time for him to return to being a jerk. no negotiations or talking it through with jude, nothing. of course, i have not yet read the wicked king, so i have no way of knowing that he will not realise his mistake and back away somewhere in the beginning of it, right? wrong. alternatively - right at the cost of poor marketing skills. what does "will jude's scheme to control cardan go her way" prompt?

speaking of which, i dare not leave unspoken the fact that every attempt of any character development whatsoever to be present failed miserably. not once did i find myself rooting for any of the characters for a reason other than Well, Jude Is The Protagonist, So I Might As Well Be On Her Side. we are instantly thrown into the story, into a foreign world with nearly no background information about the protagonist or the people who surround her. "this is to be disclosed further, as the narrative develops", you may say. to which i respond that the only aspect of it that so much as dares to even graze the issue of background information is the prologue, which speaks of a brutal murder of jude's parents by none other than the actual father of one of her sisters, the one who then adopted all three children, and the one who - guess what! - jude ends up loving, despite having to witness her parents being slaughtered by him at her seven years of age. pardon, but i call on lack of realism - or, at the very least, a missed opportunity to create a story about thrill and revenge, actual one, not just vivienne mocking madoc from somewhere behind the curtains.

lastly (as i do not intend to speak of each of the characters separately; it would take too long), finally setting the rational aspect of my review-thing away, i want to mention the emotions i felt while reading - which would add to my previous point, i would think. said emotions, so to say, were... none. i never felt any intense rage at cardan's antics, i never felt triumphant when jude held him hostage. adrenaline was the only feeling that visited me while reading. you know, the one that's supposed to be tugging at my face and threatening to change my expression into a reaction that would fit the events unfolding? the one that's meant to keep me on edge? yeah, not once was it strong enough to actually accomplish that. in fact, not once was it strong enough for me to even notice its presence before the final 50 pages, if not less.

thus, i conclude, leaving little, though existent possibility for me to read the wicked king, although, upon completing the cruel prince, i do not feel the slightest need to seek the continuation. perhaps the world of holly black is not for me.

(beth crowley's song based on this book is still awesome though. check it out.)

[literary-nose]

some thoughts on ‘if we were villains’.

before i begin, i warn you that this is not going to be a short post.

so, after two months, i finally finished “if we were villains”. for me, two months is a long time, despite the book having something of 400 pages. usually, i am able to get through a hundred of pages within a single evening, but that was not the case with this one. i would constantly read a maximum of 50 pages at best, only to close it shut and deciding to continue it on a different day.

the main reason behind this was truly none other than the magnificence of the descriptions of feelings in it. multiple times did i find myself unable to continue reading, sometimes even forced to take breaks worth days, because, while reading, i could nearly experience all the characters’ emotions myself, and sometimes the characters even expressed my own thoughts about the circumstances they were in.

leaving the general speech behind and moving on to more specific details, i cannot leave out the fact that, observing the dynamic between meredith and oliver, i could not help but feel uncomfortable - especially in the beginning, on the night of richard’s death and soon after it. never did i once experience such discomfort when any other couple was described - alexander and colin? marvellous. james and wren? excellent. james and oliver? stupefying, hell, not even meredith and richard made me feel like this (up until things started to get the way they got, of course), and i have yet to find a reasonable justification for this, except maybe for the fact that i, too, similarly to james, perceived the initiation, the start of all of this as “revenge-fucking”. i doubt my asexual identity is in any way linked to this, because i am mostly sex-indifferent. i have resorted to attributing this to the fact that, as we learn in the end, oliver had been and still is in love with james, while his situation with meredith, to me, really seemed like a typical case of being unable to tell the difference between romantic and aesthetic attraction.

what puzzled me further was the complete lack of participation in the story from wren’s side, and my confusion is only being reinforced by the fact that she is richard’s cousin. we barely get to see her at all, and every time we do, her participation is minimal. this i can attribute to her nature and her typecast as the ingénue, since typecasting clearly affects the characters quite considerably, but, even so, in my opinion, she deserved more than what she got.

now, regarding james’ motive in richard’s death - something i am most eager to talk about. as stated in the book, james did not have any intention to kill richard - in fact, he was ready to drag him out of the water, upon discovering that he was alive. and yet, something does not sit right. throughout the entire book, the idea that an actor’s thought process and feelings can easily get intertwined with those of the character they are portraying is commonly promoted, explicitly stated by both oliver and richard - in one of the prologues and during gwendolyn’s class respectively. 

taking that into consideration and putting it aside for the time being, i remind that on the night of richard’s death it had been “caesar” that the seven were performing, with james having the role of brutus, and richard, inevitably, being caesar himself. in shakespeare’s play, the death of julius caesar is mainly attributed to the mastermind of the conspiracy, caius cassius, who wants caesar dead due to his own envy. knowing that “brutus is an honourable man”, cassius manipulates him by calling out to his sense of honour and getting him to conspire against caesar as well, allegedly for the benefit of rome, despite the fact that, originally, brutus had no personal conflicts with caesar.

seeing as james is stated and portrayed to have a difficulty snapping out of character - as clearly seen when he confesses his crime to oliver by speaking in verse exclusively - i pose this question; why is it not possible that on the night of richard’s death, having followed him into the forest, he found his own thoughts intermingled with his role’s to such an extent, where he consciously decided that the death of caesar (richard) would be for the benefit of rome (the six of them, mainly, but also anyone else)? essentially, what could have happened is that he, blinded by the thoughts of brutus and not his own, intentionally killed richard, believing it to be in everyone’s best interests.

of course, this did not happen, and, in my own view, because such a key (justification of james’ actions) would not open the door to the ending we eventually got; under no circumstances would oliver have forgiven james this easily, let alone taken all the blame upon him, if the death of richard was a result of “brutus” getting too caught up in his character. on the contrary, james acting out of pure terror justifies his actions in oliver’s eyes, especially seeing as “and who would keep him from drowning me this time?”. thus, we reach the ending that we currently have.

obviously, i am not claiming that my view of this is correct; it is but a mere speculation, one of the countless thoughts i had while reading. and, most of all, i am entirely not unsatisfied with the fact that i was wrong, and that richard’s murder was not intentional. to be entirely truthful, the justification given to james’ actions by me would most likely lead to a far more tragic and saddening end, and, honestly? i am glad m.l.rio’s explanation differs from mine this much. i don’t think i would have handled it if my theory had proven to be true, lol.

lastly, the decision of the author to end the book in the way she did. personally, i have never been an avid fan of open endings; i prefer it when authors give their pieces a definite ending, one that the audience has to get over and learn to live with. as, however, every rule bears an exception to itself, this time, i was rather relieved to receive an open ending, an opportunity to believe or denounce the survival of james.

and, myself? i believe james to be alive. in fact, this specific aspect i find myself to share with james; he uses the words of characters to speak the truth about himself, concealing it, so to say, behind the masks of roles in such a way that, if one does not seek a hidden meaning behind a verse seemingly spoken out of the blue, they are bound never to find it. as such, under no circumstances would he have otherwise chosen that specific speech of pericles, which had been pronounced, as remarked by oliver, before what would have been his death, “if he had not asked for help”.

with that, i conclude my train of thought. when starting this book, having read a maximum of forty pages, i had a clear outline of what i believed was going to unfold, and, though i was right about certain aspects (i.e. richard’s death i had predicted from act I, and james’ involvement in it - instantly upon seeing his reaction to richard choking on his blood in the water.), other ones i could never have foreseen, and that makes me more than happy. though this was a fantastic experience, i do confess that i cannot envision myself re-reading this book - at least not anytime soon. it’s true that, perhaps, now knowing the story, i may not be affected by it to such an extent, but i think, if only for the time being, i would rather keep it on my shelf, maybe occasionally quoting it, as i find myself doing with most of the media i indulge in.

also, alexander vass i declare top tier gender. the amount gender envy this man was giving me while i was reading is entirely ludicrous.

a playlist based on the book, in case anyone is interested.

[anosewithlegs]

basically, what richard sterling did was grab one of my favourite types of a character and drag it over the line. shove it, if you would, to the extent of ludicrousness, practically (if that word is at all necessary) making it appear frightening, or even scary.

entirely unsure if would recommend.

[anosewithlegs]

reading? absolutely not. i am treating this book as a case of murder that needs to be solved.

[anosewithlegs]

i have arrived to the realisation that the reason i am so unbothered by the fact that the characters in iwwv speak in verse and quote shakespeare every two lines is because i too, in fact, do exactly that. and i would do it twice as often, had i had peers who understood such references.

[anosewithlegs]

you would like an example? certainly.

“i like this place and could willingly waste my time in it“ - as you like it, act 2, scene 4. also my immediate reaction upon seeing this website.

[anosewithlegs]

i have arrived to the realisation that the reason i am so unbothered by the fact that the characters in iwwv speak in verse and quote shakespeare every two lines is because i too, in fact, do exactly that. and i would do it twice as often, had i had peers who understood such references.