troisoiseaux

Since my last update in War and Peace (yesterday), I'm back to The Great Comet of 1812 territory with the scene that's the source for "No One Else"— interestingly, it's Natasha's song in the musical but Andrei's experience in the book, after seeing Natasha for the first time while visiting the Rostovs on business and feeling the first stirrings that life might be worth actually living again, post-Austerlitz and post-Lise: First time I heard your voice / Moonlight burst into the room vs.

As soon as he opened the shutters the moonlight, as if it had long been watching for this, burst into the room. He opened the casement. The night was fresh, bright, and very still. . . .

His room was on the first floor. Those in the rooms above were also awake. He heard female voices overhead.

"Just once more," said a girlish voice above him which Prince Andrei recognized at once.

(On the other hand, the lyric I feel like putting my arms around my knees / and squeezing tight as possible / And flying away is an almost verbatim quote from Natasha, and the differences might only be in translation.)

I also forgot to mention that I've turned back to China Miéville's Three Moments of an Explosion, a collection of short stories that mostly take either a frog-in-boiling-water approach—you'll start out reading about a couple on vacation, or a therapist who's kind of unhealthily overinvested in one of her patients but in a normal way, and then halfway through it slips into folk horror, or a world where therapists are also assassins ("Sometimes the externalized trauma-vectors in dysfunctional interpersonal codependent psychodynamics are powerful enough that more robust therapeutic intervention is necessary"); I very nearly laughed out loud on the metro at the latter twist— or a peeling-the-onion one, where it starts out in a world that is overtly not our own and the parameters reveal themselves, slowly, as you keep reading. In the second category, I particularly liked "The Buzzard's Egg," set in a world where each city-state, etc., has its patron god; the story's narrator is, as you find out, the caretaker of the gods that his state has captured as hostages of war, and as much a prisoner as they are. I'm a little over halfway through, although I did end up skipping one story after very quickly realizing that it was not a flavor of horror I had the stomach to read.