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The final observations (for now) by lady_songsmith

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I am rather fascinated by P's knowledge of bees. Talking Bees? N tends, as RR muses in the museum, to 'charismatic and mammalian' species for Talking Beasts, o I can't picture Bees. Does this knowledge come via Bears? Dryads? Centaur scholars?

Definitely sympathize (and giggle every time I read it) with RR's desire to hand P upside down and shake him. There is quite a lot locked up in that brain, and for a scientist it must be an impossible temptation.

I have to giggle at P's comparison of the Scotus essay to his warrior training. It does rather feel that way sometimes -- particularly the cudgel about the head part.

The fact that MAR knows that people -- men especially -- around her study and teach M. Management: I love it. I almost want to hear her discussion of hips. Almost.

Adore the L/E interaction ("in my room, on my floor..."); it captures wonderfully both decades of living in one another pockets and yet fitting into teenaged British life.

I presume, reading this, that the actual letters were somewhat more fantastical and we are actually seeing through S's eyes with a Narnian overlay rather than reading them verbatim -- otherwise I think very little of the censors! I know, for the story purposes it had to be clear; please don't take that a criticism.

Compared to pig intestines, grasshoppers, and fish eyes, the HK tea must have seemed practically mundane. MAR never stood a chance of discomfiting P, did she?

L and the Moose song!! Now -- did she know was P was reading or did E tell her to sing it just then?

Just out of curiosity, did S ever use any of those treatments for drunk young men on her brothers?

I cry so hard when E talks about Aslan's Country.

Eustace and the High... Peter. Poor lad, his worldview's really gone 180, hasn't it? Peter may have to get used to a new title.

E's thoughts on P's vegetarianism -- I didn't get the impression that P had gone veg, only that he appreciated veg cuisine (other than boiled carrots ala H&A). Certainly the HK tea included meats, and I thought we saw him eating meat somewhere later as well. Did I miss some transition?

Reverse psychology on the Otters -- nothing to say but SQUEE! Also in that chapter (set of chapters?), love P's mental notes on how to go about ensuring his decrees to the Songbirds will be enforced, by delegating to E and S.

L getting three sets of marital advice is wonderful. I hope we'll see/hear more about Aidan. I'm very curious.

E's -- or Harold's -- note from the LI is fantastic.

S and P both had, in their Guard, someone who basically spoiled them for romance, as you address in TRG. (Once upon a time I was going somewhere with that thought, but I've totally lost the thread of it.) I desperately want to know the rest of Lambert's story.

Polly and the English Maiden (ha!) aunts -- I have met a few women who would have made excellent English Maiden (ha!) Aunts (except for the slight problem of not being English), and Polly has the right of it. I would also add that a battalion of Jewish Grandmothers would give anyone pause, and in fact on further reflection I have to wonder if the reason men have spent centuries keeping women out of warfare is because the women are too damn terrifying and would end all wars in a single day or a bloodbath or both.

I can't help but agree with P that unleashing L on England is a scary, scary thing. It's a shame she doesn't get the chance -- I won't rant, I won't -- but I suspect one Lucy the Valiant could but that battalion of English Maiden (ha!) Aunts to shame.

On the subject of censored books, perhaps I'm too much a product of the 21st century, but I've read Chaucer and it's hardly what I'd call objectionable. Even the bawdiest bits aren't much worse than Shakespeare's comedies. I'm sure given the research you've put into this story, it was actually restricted, but I'm scratching my head over why. (Of course, I also agree with E that Lady Chatterly is pretty boring as erotica goes.)

E, possibly because of the association with Asim and the WW2/WW1 parallels, reminds me strongly of the character of Ramses from Elizabeth Peter's Amelia Peabody novels. If you've not read them -- this is a compliment, though from the perspectives of the other characters in both stories, probably a rather dubious one given the amount of mayhem that tends to accrue around such characters.

It has little bearing on the story, but as a point of my own curiosity and pondering, I wonder how you imagine magic in N to function? We have such tantalizing hints of its presence, regular and accepted, in N and yet so little evidence of its use, that one is hard-pressed to reconcile the existence of things like Hags and Cornelius's dabblings with the distrust of all but Divine Rich textmagic that laces the books. I see very few authors trying to address this discrepancy, so your mention of Eirene as a 'minor mage' and later reference to other Centaur mages intrigues me; I would love to hear your view on the subject.

...and that's all she wrote. For now.

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. . . Edmund as Ramses. Oh, blast, Katie was right, now I can't NOT see it. But I will try not to all the same. Ramses . . . well, master spy though he becomes, he just sort of spawns chaos.

(not that spawning chaos doesn't make for an entertaining read, of course...)

Edited 2010-02-21 19:47 (UTC)

He is, though, right? I'm not nuts to see this parallel? :)

You are not crazy at all! I'm shocked I didn't see it before, and like

andi_horton said, can't unsee it. I'm glad that we apparently have this circle between a bunch of us that involves Narnia, Elizabeth Peters, Laurie R. King, and this fic!

You may be nuts, but not for seeing this :P There are certainly similarities; there are differences enough that I just may be able to dig a defensive trench between the two characters, but I'm certainly not going to be able to unsee the likeness of one to the other now that it's been pointed out to me.

Of course it just about crushes me to think that, assuming the two universes are one, at the time all of this in TQSiT was happening, Amelia was probably dead or would be soon :(

And camels. There must be spitting camels. Oh wait. There WERE. Back in Chapter... of Part 1. Oh dear. I fear a one shot involving Edmund and spitting camels coming on. Kate, are you listening? There must a cross over, Edmund and Ramses in Jerusalem -- perhaps at the same dinner party with Allenby, Holmes and Miss Mary Russell from King's O Jerusalem. And a dumb spitting camel and a talking Rat.

Oi. My brain just blew up.

I have the distinct impression I've just created a monster. (Additional scary thought: Edmund mentored by Ramses?)

OH. SHIT. You have read my brain; namely that Russell and Holmes met up with Ramses and yes, later in life, they are mentoring Edmund. AND THEN THE WORLD BLEW UP.

Hands Kate a keyboard and caffeine and band aids for the brain bleed. I've been sitting her thinking of 3 sentence drabbles in which a child Ramses tries to pick Edmund's pocket at a bazaar because he wants to meet him since he is obviously not who he pretends to be and thinks this would be a good introduction. Then the two of them, on a lark realize that those two people in Arab dress are really an older British man and a younger British woman and not the Bedus they are pretending to be and so they try to pick Holmes' pockets and pinch Mary on the bum for fun. Hilarity ensues with no one being who they pretend to be. Except possible Ramses, who finished the conversation with, "I'll tell my mother and you would really not want that."

Switching up the ages has me now contemplating Ramses in Narnia, and now my brain is bleeding.

Switching up the ages has me now contemplating Ramses in Narnia, and now my brain is bleeding.
Ramses in Calormen....

I think we've just discovered the REAL reason Narnia was destroyed in Last Battle.

*props chin in hand and contemplates the horror with more glee than is strictly decent* Y'know, I almost didn't mention the Ramses thing. I thought it was silly.

I think this may be the place to suggest (instead of dropping such an epic into the already overflowing hands of Andrea and me) that perhaps we outline a faint plot and create an lj community where everyone can write vignettes and stories of the world where Ramses, Edmund, Russell, Holmes, and everyone else are running about.

But Andrea is telling me I should sleep on this idea, as comms can be complicated and involve people maintaining them, a task for which I certainly don't volunteer, but... well, here: it is in the public forum now.

^ And she knows that she does not volunteer me for maintenence purposes either.

(and I am almost positive she would have taken my advice to sleep on it more seriously if I hadn't been frothing at the mouth over a hockey game all night, causing her to doubt in the ordered balance of my mind)

Yes, yes! Let's see, Ramses would be in his 50s during WW2, wouldn't he? He was born between the first two books, so '86, '87 ish? But I don't think he's out of the field -- takes after his uncle, no doubt. Highly placed, of course, though probably about three people actually know that...

This one will be quick. I adore Ramses. I admit that my characterization of Edmund is strongly influenced by another precocious, brilliant, fictional, young man -- Miles Vorkosigan. My views of the domestic management of Cair Paravel also come from that Vorkosigan House depictions -- Ma Kosti, Pym, and other.

As for the bees, they do not actually talk in Narnia, though Cap Red recently introduced a talking spider. Rather, I assume that those who are more attuned to the natural world and naturally observant, have made the same observations that will eventually result in Von Frisch's observations in 1947 and winning the Nobel Prize in 1973. The bee dancing observations were observations and study and I figured Pliny the Elder of Narnia described it in his Botanica or it was since confirmed by other observers. Come to think of it, I could add that as a title to the Physician's bookshelf.

And now I'm seeing Edmund as a seven-year-old, sneaking around the house behind his siblings' backs, wearing disguises and trying out different accents, trying to fool them and his mother, and Peter and Susan rolling their eyes in the most annoying elder-sibling fashion, and Lucy falling for it Every Single Time ...

Or even better, Edmund as the Master of Disguises in Narnia, and Lucy enthusiastically accompanying him on some wild and dangerous adventure, wielding ... a parasol!

See above challenge to Intrikate for a cross over involving Ramses, Edmund, and Laurie King's O Jerusalem, with Sherlock Holmes, Allenby, and Miss Mary Russell.

I would absolutely love to read that!

I would too. I hereby nominate someone other than me.

Lucy = Jane from Tarzan? I rewatched that recently, and if Jane were a little less twittery and a little more awesome, I almost feel like they'd be BFFs. Because Lucy would rock that parasol, and she would totally befriend the ape man, and imagining Jane and her father in Narnia is just such fun.

(we're talking Disney Tarzan here, by the way.)

I must confess to never having watched that particular Disney movie ... but If Amelia Peabody Emerson can pull off a parasol, Lucy most DEFINITELY can!

I'm imagining some wild, speech-punctuating swinging of it that has Edmund a little worried for the safety of his eyes - Lucy forging ahead with her parasol, utterly unaware of the consternation she is causing with it, out to seek adventure.

It must be written. And I really must find these Laurie R. King books and add them to my reading pile.

Never watched it either, but I'm having vague sort of Lucy-parasol thoughts and Edmund in disguise. Some kind of undercover mission to the Lone Islands, trying to determine how much they're leaning toward Calormene loyalties, disguising themselves as... middle-class Calormenes? merchants, scholars?

Are there camels in the Lone Islands, do we think?

Ooh, and Lucy wants to disguise herself as Edmund's mistress, and he utterly refuses, knowing more of Calormene practices than she does, and she gets all miffed at him.

And I think we could posit camels, for the sake of the story.

And Lucy has to wind up somewhere that respectable ladies would never go, with Edmund trailing her trying to get her to go back to the bloody hotel and let him handle things.

And when they finally get back to Narnia, Peter nearly has a heart attack, demanding to know how (by the Lion!) Edmund could let Lucy DO that, and Edmund says, "Well, next time you go, and YOU try to stop her."

Which effectively shuts Peter up.

Oh, and Susan gets to play Evelyn's role - seemingly calm and quiet, but when the villainous Lone Islanders trail Lucy and Edmund back to Cair Paravel, she saves the day without a thought for her own safety!

I need to stop thinking about this. My brain is starting to hurt.

The surest remedy for that brain pain is writing.

Sincerely,

The Instigator

You, madam, are evil.

Dang, this really needs writing. And if Lucy gets the parasol, I think Susan needs a fan, of the razor-sharp steel-tipped variety.

"You cannot seriously be intending --"

"I most certainly am," Lucy replied calmly, keeping a brisk pace through the increasingly narrow streets.

Her brother dodged around a man carrying a tray of cheap trinkets and quickened his pace to catch up with her. "You should leave this to me."

"Don't be ridiculous, Edmund," she said. "The ladies will be far more comfortable confiding in me than you. The sisterhood of women everywhere--"

"I am aware of your views on the subject," he interrupted hastily. "But this quarter is far more Calormene than Narnian, and most of the places are owned by Tarkaans. The, er, ladies will not be as independent."

"All the more reason for me to speak with them!"

Edmund winced. "Need I remind you of the fuss your lectures caused the last time? Besides," he continued, seeing her ready to expound on that subject, "this area is dangerous. While I would never impugn your abilities, you cannot go in unarmed."

"I am hardly unarmed," Lucy answered, brandishing her sturdy parasol at him with an extravagant flourish that had him skipping aside quickly. "Now do stop fussing, brother."

He tried one more gambit. "You'll ruin our cover. Shorkaan Ahoris is hardly the sort of man who would allow his sister to accompany him to a brothel."

"Then you had best not be seen with me." She shrugged blithely. "Don't you have paints and powders and nasty scars to apply, anyway?"

"I'm hardly going to get myself up as a beggar to gossip at the Silk Blossom," Edmund said sourly.

...
...

Yeah, that's all I got.

"Let me borrow some of it, then?" She asked with her most winsome grin, and another little twirl of the parasol that came frighteningly close to his left eye.

"You're not going to actually join them, are you?" He knew his sister better than that, really; knew that despite all appearances she was terribly practical about serious matters, but he could not help asking.

"Of course not, silly! The girls will appreciate the gift, is all, and a good gift always helps open negotiations properly."

(More! More! More!)

Edmund reflected bitterly that Lucy had absorbed their diplomacy lessons a little too well. "Peter will never forgive me if I let you do this," he said.

"Let me, my dear brother?" Lucy asked with that frightening arch to her eyebrow and a nasty emphasis on the "let." "I believe--"

To Edmund's mingled relief and dismay, Lucy's lecture was interrupted at that moment by the last person he wanted to see: the Duke's oily little assistant Jorn.

"My lord Shorkaan!" he said, popping his round eyes out until they "goggled" (Lucy's term) more than ever. "Whatever are you doing here - with your lovely sister?"

Yes, Edmund thought, Shorkaan would certainly have no problem visiting this particular quarter, but the Tarkheena Maritisa would not deign to set one sandaled foot in this grimey alley.

Lucy didn't even blink. "My dear sir!" she cried, giving every appearance of being more than delighted to see Jorn. Had Edmund not been treated to a ferocious whispered lecture the first night of their arrival on Jorn's utter inappropriateness in his address to ladies, and how if she was in her true form as Queen of Narnia she would have given him a piece of her mind instead of inane giggles, he might have been fooled.

"How very fortunate we encountered you," Lucy continued, smiling sweetly. "I begged my brother to take me shopping today in the common market, for the quaint experience. However, we seem to have gotten lost, and now I don't know where to look for the silks I promised my dear friends back home!"

"I will be more than happy to escort you back to the market, my lady," the oily Jorn said, all but rubbing his hands together.

"Excellent," Edmund said, seeing his chance to do a bit of investigating while keeping Lucy away from this area (and keeping Peter from completely losing his sanity when they returned). "Now that you have someone to steer you in the right direction, sister, I believe I shall finish my exploration." He leered and winked at Jorn, knowing the other man - the scoundrel! - would take his implied meaning.

"Naturally, my lord," Jorn replied smugly, and he hurried Lucy away before she could do more than glare daggers at Edmund.

He would be in trouble with her later for this, but it was a small price to pay for keeping her safe.

...

(and now to bed, so long as the baby and my sinuses let me sleep!)

Er, I'm laying in a claim to the next bit -- I know what happens, I just have to get it into, y'know, sentences. Placeholder!

And written, in the new thread rth opened for this... thing.

Edited 2010-02-22 05:59 (UTC)

The twirling parasol. Oh Edmund, all hope is lost. You've LOST mister.

"Then you had best not be seen with me." She shrugged blithely. "Don't you have paints and powders and nasty scars to apply, anyway?"

Oh, poor Edmund. So outmatched by the indomitable Lucy!

You three have just outlined a comment fic. This one is obviously distinct from the other I am hoping Kate and Andi do involving the Edmund/Ramses/Laurie King triple x over.

So, shall I open up a thread and entitle it "Shady Lady" in honor of Lucy with a parasol?

the other I am hoping Kate and Andi do involving the Edmund/Ramses/Laurie King triple x over

Flattered, Madam, though we do profess ourselves by your faith in us, my esteemed colleague and I both confess that our desire to bear witness to the existence of such a literary epic is greatly -- perhaps even mercifully -- tempered by our collective doubt in our ability to do it anything even resembling justice.

With sincere regrets we remain,

your humble servants

Edited 2010-02-22 04:12 (UTC)

Would puppy-dog eyes provide additional inducement?

I must read these King books, too. *makes note*

OMG NOT THE CUTE ANIMAL FACES. They peer into my soul... but no, I will remain strong, we... um, we... those kitten eyes in your icon are quite distracting, did you know? While I cannot speak for Andrea, I can assure you that I am frankly terrible at finishing things, and you might expire of suspense or old age before it was posted! Bad enough that I can't finish the damn fic I have going where Susan meets Sarah Jane Smith...

Tut, tut. You know you can always speak for me! Well. Not when it comes to hockey. Not yet. But soon! And otherwise!

Race the drunken snails, darling, and finish what you have begun. And if my wrists behave, I'll maybe be able to do the same! Before, you know, the spiral radiation does horrible things to the inner workings of my mind and renders me unable to compose even a limerick, let alone what I am attempting to complete for you.

I know, and I use this icon sparingly, and only for good. Really. I swear. *halo*

I'm actually ok with the perpetual WIP, as long as it comes with perpetual periodic updates. I don't really have room to talk, you see, seeing as I've finished, uhm... *counts on fingers* ... three fics? Ever?

I used to be better about it, when I was still in school and wrote fic during lectures. Now I have three WIPs that have been such for quite a while, it's terrible. SIGH.

*tea and sympathy*

I didn't get into fanfic until college, and even then I resisted hard. I figured it would keep me away from working on original fic. Now I wish I made better use of all that lecture time. The stuff I wrote all had to be scrapped when the entire storyline of my original reconfigured itself. Blasted thing. The fanfic would have been more permanent.

Ahaha oh the state of my original fiction is even better. I don't think I've even attempted so much as a scrap of poetry since... last June? *accepts tea and sympathy* Why aren't we super-productive writing machines? That would come in handy.

I don't even know why I was spontaneously logged out as I clicked to post that comment.

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why why WHY must I go to Mass now???

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