||[Nov. 24th, 2004|12:49 pm]
One of the stimulating things about LJ is that you never know when the Messerschmidts are going to come diving at you out of the sun. |
Mainly you're among friends, but it's a public arena and anything is possible.
I like it that it's public. Yeah, I do really.
People with hardline agendas always reserve their greatest anger for their slightly milder or ideologically divergent allies. I'm a menshevik to her bolshevik, a jansenist to her jesuit.
Anger is a big high. So is belonging to a small, ideologically pure sect.
I'm glad you like May and Hob. Hob is also me (of course.)
I do like Hob. Will he die? I hope not. I like the ghosts--
I hope he gets to live in the tree they led him to!
Poor man, everything taken away.
(I'm always fascinated with that theme, which you've now mentioned twice: how does one survive with nothing? Where to start?
I once asked my sister how on earth we wound up with cars and telephones, when all we started out with was earth and trees.
How would I survive, I asked her, and make a sophisticated civilized environment for myself if I landed back in time in some grassy glade with just my bare hands?
Well, she mused, you'd first need to learn how to smelt...
Hob has a long and active life ahead of him....
The starting with nothing thing provides a good deal of the fascination of Robinson Crusoe- and all those other desert island stories. Usually some cheating is involved- like a case of tools and other conveniences gets washed ashore from a wreck. R.C.- as I remember- is supplied with everything from a musket to a Bible.
I love the smelting story.
I enjoyed The Swiss Family Robinson. They really had it made, didn't they? An entire ship full of pots and pans, telescopes, and ducks.
Wouldn't it be fun to live in a treehouse? Especially if you had no choice?
And the thing about writing novels is that you can play-act that and any other experience.
The Arial to her Helvetica.