Memory and Dream

Memory and Dream by Charles de Lint
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I am not sure how I feel about this book. I love the idea that is the essence of this novel: that Isabelle's paintings can bring ancient spirits into this world. And yet... There were some really good parts but there were also way too many -and, a lot of the times, unnecessary- detailed descriptions that I feel slowed down the pace of the story too much. It took me a while to get into it (maybe after page 100) and, even then, I never really cared much about most of the characters, which is a problem, because if you don't care about the characters, you won't care about what happens to them. One of the few exceptions was John Sweetgrass. I fell in love with that character. He saved the book for me and was probably the reason I kept reading until the end.

Now, don't get me wrong: the book wasn't bad. It just wasn't great for me, either. It didn't grab me, not until almost the very end, when the story finally starts to pick up. But it's a 400 pages book so I felt that most of it was a slow building up to a climax that took too long to arrive.

Overall, the book was alright for me. It had some moments that truly enchanted me -and that's the reason I'm giving it 3 stars instead of 2- but there weren't enough of them in a novel that is this long.


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Where I can become who I’m supposed to be...

All my life I’ve wanted to be the kid who gets to cross over into the magical kingdom. I devoured those books by C.S. Lewis and William Dunthorn, Ellen Wentworth, Susan Cooper, and Alan Garner. When I could get them from the library, I read them out of order as I found them, and then in order, and then reread them all again, many times over. Because even when I was a child I knew it wasn’t simply escape that lay on the far side of the borders of fairyland. Instinctively I knew crossing over would mean more than fleeing the constant terror and shame that was mine at that time of my life. There was a knowledge – an understanding hidden in the marrow of my bones that only I can access ― telling me that by crossing over, I’d be coming home. That’s the reason I’ve yearned so desperately to experience the wonder, the mystery, the beauty of that world beyond the World As It Is. It’s because I know that somewhere across the border there’s a place for me. A place of safety and strength and learning, where I can become who I’m supposed to be. 

I’ve tried forever to be that person here, but whatever I manage to accomplish in the World As It Is only seems to be an echo of what I could be in that other place that lies hidden somewhere beyond the borders.

- Charles de Lint (Why, this is me.)

My muse...

I finally finished reading “The Bards of Bone Plain” by Patricia A. McKillip. Seriously, this woman… I kept having to stop reading at one or other line or paragraph and just marvel at her skill and how she masters the art of painting pictures with her words that touch the soul. And she never failed to inspire me, my muse, and make me write.

So, I decided that even though I have books by Charles de Lint and Diana Wynne Jones waiting for me to read them, I will read yet another of her books because I need the inspiration.

This time it’s the turn of “Cygnet”, a compilation of two of her novels: The Sorceress and the Cygnet and The Cygnet and the Firebird. I have only read the first sentence of the book and I’m already trapped: He was a child of the horned moon.

 Anyway, more writing and less blogging.