#thomasina

[detroitlib]

From our stacks: Cover detail from Thomasina : The Cat Who Thought She Was a God. By Paul Gallico. New York Review Children's Collection. Originally published in Garden City, New York, by Doubleday in 1957. New York: New York Review of Books, 2018.

[weepingfoxfury]

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday ...

"So ... it's a dead moth then" said Thomasina ... "It is indeed" replied Lucrezia. Thomasina blew gently on the demised insect and waited for its little legs do something other than absolutely nothing at all. Lucrezia watched as she tried again and then began to look around at their surroundings. It was so quiet ... no birds, no voices, no sounds of anything. A puzzled expression crept across her face. She sat down on a small pile of old bricks.

Thomasina eventually lost interest in the dead moth and sat down next to her. A couple of minutes passed in silence. Lucrezia could feel Thomasina's twitchiness and, whilst staring at the floor, said "Go on then ... you obviously have a question." Thomasina wiggled her face into various expressions before exclaiming "Well, I don't get it!" Lucrezia sighed, then softly queried "OK ... what don't you get?" ... "This!" shrieked Thomasina "This silence! This non happening stuff! What are we supposed to do next???"

Lucrezia pushed some leaves around with her foot and then said "I don't get it either ... but we're going to have to sit here until they get back." Thomasina looked puzzled "They?" she asked "Who is they?" Lucrezia began to rub at her face before explaining ... "They is them ... all of them ... the Cinematographer ... the Librarian ... the Page Turner. You know ... them! Without them the story stops. Without them we just sit here."

Thomasina flumped onto her back, gazed up at the still clouds and the birds caught mid flight before asking "Where've they all gone then?" Lucrezia took a deep breath, exhaled and said "Well now, let's see. Hmmmm. The Cinematographer popped out for cigarettes and could be quite some time because, well, you know how particular he is about which brand he has. The Librarian is somewhere in the basement looking for a fresh candle and probably got distracted by the oversized bag of golf clubs that's down there. And, erm, the Page Turner fancied a no holds barred game of Scrabble and has gone in search of the Groundsman."

"Wow!" said an astonished Thomasina. "Wow! ... how do you know all that?" Lucrezia turned and said incredulously "I don't, you prat! I don't know anything! I just know that we've reached a full stop. A dead moth. A pile of bricks." She rested her elbows on her knees, pushed her hands into her hair and began to rock.

A few more moments of silent silence passed.

"Can I ask one more question" said Thomasina. Lucrezia blinked furiously, felt her last nerve expire and replied through gritted teeth "If ... you ... must." "OK" began Thomasina "We've come to a halt ... there's no sounds, no action, nothing to tell us where to go next, and that, I get. However, if everything has been brought to a stop, how come we're still moving?"

Lucrezia stopped rocking, sat bolt upright and slowly turned to look at Thomasina ...

[lizsocringe]

Cat heaven - The Three Lives of Thomasina, 1963

[book2disney]

The three lives of Thomasina (1964)

Thomasina, the Cat Who Thought She Was God by Paul Gallico (1957)

[ttsource]

Vanessa Morgan as Thomasina Topaz in Riverdale 6x04

[ktb90s]

[i-like-his-charm]

He is so painfully beautiful. I can’t decide which role causes the most agony of gorgeousness. Does it yank my insides out more to see him as Dr. Syn, Andrew Miller, Jess (the torrid gypsy), Andrew McDhui, Brand, David Jones, John Drake, Number 6??? Even later, he is appealing as the spicy Roger Devereau, the cynical and sexy John Kingsley, Fouquet (except for the horrible clothes, and I’m not crazy about the hair tbh), and the lonely John Connor. And yes, I know there are others but I’m just naming my favorites. Still, the earlier ones are honestly so agonizingly gloriously physically magnificent it is hard to tear your eyes away from his face and appreciate anything else about him… until, of course, you gather your wits and begin to notice his hands, and then you’re off again, spun into a world of admiration, and you notice his gait, and his movements - deft and elegant, yet masculine and powerful. “How can anybody survive him? It’s a pleasant death…”

[kvotheunkvothe]

don't mind me, just a grown-ass woman watching Thomasina and crying over a dead cat who ain't even proper dead in the context of the film