| Rereading Beagle |
[May. 13th, 2008|04:54 pm] |
You know, there's a chance I might get to Peter S. Beagle Balticon weekend on a less mass scale than I am used to meeting authors. I have been invited to the place he's staying at over that weekend, and maybe he'll be there, and I sort of felt bad if I hung out with him and I was all, "I only know one book you wrote, and I was 10 when I read it." So I bought a copy, and started reading it last night. I mean, sadly, he's not the REAL reason I am going, it's to see two dear friends who I haven't seen in ages, but if Peter is there, I'd like to at least know about him more than "You're the guy who got shafted by Bankin Rass, right?"
I am finding there's a certain... flavor, older fantasy has. I haven't quite nailed it down, but it reminds me of a more obscure time when fantasy books had watercolor front cover illustrations, or pen and ink over a watercolor background. It was written the year I was born, 1968, and so while it's a little younger than Madeleine L'Engle's "Wrinkle in Time," it has that same feel. Like a junior adult fiction on a spinner rack. Back when sci-fi and fantasy were pulp paperbacks, and riding that edge of being for adults and for children.
I only vaguely remembered the plot. I don't even remember the ending exactly, which is good, because it's like reading it for the first time, only invoking old, old memories of, "Oooohhhh... that's where I got that concept from." I vaguely recall it ends on a depressing note, but then again, I found so did "A Wrinkle in Time," and apparently I had a very bent way of looking at things because I don't think that has a depressing ending now. Meg lives! So does her dad!
We shall see. |
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