(no subject)
Jul. 28th, 2003 04:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liadnanI am absolutely exhausted. I spent the morning "working at home" and I did actually try and do some work, but all I managed was my VAT return. It appears the VATman owes me £160, which is better than a kick in the teeth.
Actually, it's quite a lot better than a kick in the teeth, isn't it? Never mind.
Saturday... went to the Cork and Bottle on Leicester Square (which I highly recommend to those who don't know it: it's between a fast pizza place and a sex shop on Cranbourn Street) and then onto the Mongolian Barbecue, with all the people who are coming to Greece with me (three weeks and three days and counting). Not a bad place at all. I can't really remember, but I think they threw us out around midnight. Anyway, Rob suggested we go onto their flat, order wine from The Lockin (an all-hours delivery off-licence of whose legality I am assured, though I've never checked...) and drink the night away, but F, who was staying at my flat, in a completely different direction from Rob's, looked tired so we gave it a miss. Probably wise...
It seems I may have to find someone else to fill one of the places for Greece actually, but we shall see.
Sunday I lounged around in the flat and talked to F for hours, then went in to do a teensy weensy bit of work, and pick up some more so that I could at least pretend to myself I intended to work at home this morning. See, I do think ahead. Sometimes. After that I wandered over to Soho Square, where the tail end of the jazz festival was going on. The band that was playing was exceptionally good, though not really what I think of as jazz: I asked the guy who seemed to be in charge for a card, and he gave me the card for his "other band" which sounded even more interesting (Mukka, described as "the sensation of Glastonbury" by John Peel, apparently, though it doesn't say what year: it seems to be an eastern European/middle eastern folk/roots type outfit) so I may see if I can get hold of cds for both bands.
Sat around and listened for a while, then went to meet Vaughn's gorgeous and lovely niece L from California, passing through London on her way to hitching round Scotland. We went and drank in the Coach and Horses for a bit, and then I did my host/auntie's friend duties by buying her some dinner (actually, the main reason was that I was starving...). Wound up in Point 101 for a last drink with some other friends of L's, the result of which was I had to get the nightbus back to mine, and woke up remembering exactly why I don't usually go out on a Sunday evening. Still, had a great evening, I didn't even worry about missing an hour of 24, which is a fairly significant statement given that (a) it's at a fairly crucial point and (b) I am sad.
L said she liked reading this 'ere journal incidentally. This worries me, I feel I have to keep up my standards, but since, so far as I can see, I only write aimless drivel anyway, I'm not entirely sure how I should do that.
Kalpa Imperial... Well, firstly, I love it. The breadth of imagination is amazing and LeGuin's fingerprints are all over the prose (the original Spanish may be just as good in that regard, I wouldn't know). I consider this a very Good Thing as I honestly believe that in that respect she's one of the best writers working in English today. Moreover, the stories bear re-reading several times.
The framework is that of a storyteller narrator, and the novel consists of a sequence of distinct tales from the past of this unimaginably ancient and enormous land. The stories we are told are, we are to believe, the more obscure tales, frequently there are references to the larger tales "everyone knows" and that all helps with the sense of unimaginable vastness in all dimensions. (Tolkien, of course, would have gone on to write each and every one of those tales, but here it's simply the sense of context that matters.)
This isn't, incidentally, a "fantasy" work in the sense of a novel where the supernatural plays a part, though it is clearly a fantasy in the wider sense.
There are themes running through the stories, but this is, I think, very much a book which needs re-reading several times before coming to any conclusions. Well worth the effort of doing so.
Can't decide whether to go to the Proms tonight. I feel oddly guilty for only having been once so far, usually I'd be there at least twice a week, but frankly I'm just too tired these days.
Also I can't remember what's actually on tonight, and even the minor effort required to find out is just too much...
Actually, it's quite a lot better than a kick in the teeth, isn't it? Never mind.
Saturday... went to the Cork and Bottle on Leicester Square (which I highly recommend to those who don't know it: it's between a fast pizza place and a sex shop on Cranbourn Street) and then onto the Mongolian Barbecue, with all the people who are coming to Greece with me (three weeks and three days and counting). Not a bad place at all. I can't really remember, but I think they threw us out around midnight. Anyway, Rob suggested we go onto their flat, order wine from The Lockin (an all-hours delivery off-licence of whose legality I am assured, though I've never checked...) and drink the night away, but F, who was staying at my flat, in a completely different direction from Rob's, looked tired so we gave it a miss. Probably wise...
It seems I may have to find someone else to fill one of the places for Greece actually, but we shall see.
Sunday I lounged around in the flat and talked to F for hours, then went in to do a teensy weensy bit of work, and pick up some more so that I could at least pretend to myself I intended to work at home this morning. See, I do think ahead. Sometimes. After that I wandered over to Soho Square, where the tail end of the jazz festival was going on. The band that was playing was exceptionally good, though not really what I think of as jazz: I asked the guy who seemed to be in charge for a card, and he gave me the card for his "other band" which sounded even more interesting (Mukka, described as "the sensation of Glastonbury" by John Peel, apparently, though it doesn't say what year: it seems to be an eastern European/middle eastern folk/roots type outfit) so I may see if I can get hold of cds for both bands.
Sat around and listened for a while, then went to meet Vaughn's gorgeous and lovely niece L from California, passing through London on her way to hitching round Scotland. We went and drank in the Coach and Horses for a bit, and then I did my host/auntie's friend duties by buying her some dinner (actually, the main reason was that I was starving...). Wound up in Point 101 for a last drink with some other friends of L's, the result of which was I had to get the nightbus back to mine, and woke up remembering exactly why I don't usually go out on a Sunday evening. Still, had a great evening, I didn't even worry about missing an hour of 24, which is a fairly significant statement given that (a) it's at a fairly crucial point and (b) I am sad.
L said she liked reading this 'ere journal incidentally. This worries me, I feel I have to keep up my standards, but since, so far as I can see, I only write aimless drivel anyway, I'm not entirely sure how I should do that.
Kalpa Imperial... Well, firstly, I love it. The breadth of imagination is amazing and LeGuin's fingerprints are all over the prose (the original Spanish may be just as good in that regard, I wouldn't know). I consider this a very Good Thing as I honestly believe that in that respect she's one of the best writers working in English today. Moreover, the stories bear re-reading several times.
The framework is that of a storyteller narrator, and the novel consists of a sequence of distinct tales from the past of this unimaginably ancient and enormous land. The stories we are told are, we are to believe, the more obscure tales, frequently there are references to the larger tales "everyone knows" and that all helps with the sense of unimaginable vastness in all dimensions. (Tolkien, of course, would have gone on to write each and every one of those tales, but here it's simply the sense of context that matters.)
This isn't, incidentally, a "fantasy" work in the sense of a novel where the supernatural plays a part, though it is clearly a fantasy in the wider sense.
There are themes running through the stories, but this is, I think, very much a book which needs re-reading several times before coming to any conclusions. Well worth the effort of doing so.
Can't decide whether to go to the Proms tonight. I feel oddly guilty for only having been once so far, usually I'd be there at least twice a week, but frankly I'm just too tired these days.
Also I can't remember what's actually on tonight, and even the minor effort required to find out is just too much...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Kalpa Imperial as recommended by M. John Harrison
Date: 2003-07-28 09:11 am (UTC)Where did you get it from? Murder One?
Re: Kalpa Imperial as recommended by M. John Harrison
Date: 2003-07-28 09:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-28 10:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-28 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-28 10:22 am (UTC)I'll drop Vaughn a mail and see if she's got a contact number for her then. I suspect with us off on holiday in a weeks time that the scheduling might be too tight though...
No contact for Lolo
Date: 2003-07-28 03:08 pm (UTC)I hope she can find some of the other Cultureniks...
I don't really have any way of contacting her ~on the road~ other than her laurenspotter@yahoo.com address...
I think the best bet is to leave phone numbers at her email address...
I think...