Your favourite authors, and why?

[Maia]

I'll start with Tolkien, mainly because I find his world building to be pretty amazing. My favourite book of his is the Silmarillion, which most resembles a genuine mythology.

Jane Louise Curry is an America writer of young adult fantasy, who has clearly, in part, been inspired by Tolkien, but has very much put her own spin on it. My favourite of hers is Beneath the Hill, which I read when I was little, leaving an indelible impression on me.

Lynn Picknett and Clive Prince are a writing duo who cover alternative history and unsolved mysteries, and have written on quite a wide range of subjects. My favourite of theirs is The Sion Revelation, an in depth investigation into the Priory of Sion story, from a critical perspective.

Robert Graves has written both fiction and non-fiction. Among the latter is The White Goddess, a compendium of Celtic myth, though my favourite of his is I, Claudius and its sequel, Claudius the God, a fictional autobiography of the Roman Emperor Claudius.

There are more, of course, but that'll do for now, I think.

[Impenitent]

Frederick Forsythe - very detailed writing...

Robert Jordan - like Tolkien

-Imp

[FlashDangerpants]

I like Martin Amis up until The Information - I think the critics did him dirty on that one, but he did go off the boil somewhat afterwards. See also Pratchett and Adams.

[promethean75]

Tim Dorsey is the last memorable author I recall. Read three of his books in solitary confinement and fell in love with the protagonist Serge A. Storms.

I remember this one scene... forget which book it was in... but i laughed so hard i nearly had a heart attack.

[Maia]

Tim Dorsey is the last memorable author I recall. Read three of his books in solitary confinement and fell in love with the protagonist Serge A. Storms.

I remember this one scene... forget which book it was in... but i laughed so hard i nearly had a heart attack.

Why solitary confinement? Or don't I want to know?

[promethean75]

I got into a minor tussle with some white trash in the Folk gang becuz i told my bunk mate that he's the one who stole his New Balance tennis shoes. I snitched on the dude... but i didn't tell the POleece, Maia. Big difference.

Got into a fight in the bathroom with the guy and he summarily realized he couldn't beat me up. I didn't beat his ass as much as i just 'neutralized the threat'. So u know what happens next: i get jumped by the whole gang on the yard. Wanted to avoid that, so i 'checked off', which means i refused to stay in general population. As punishment i was shipped to a max custody prison and put into ICON for eight months. 23 hour lock down and much smaller meals. Solitary confinement inmates don't receive normal portions of shit food. I used to try and hide food from the tray that i could eat later, but the COs threw it away when they shook my cell down.

[Walker]

I'll start with Tolkien ...

Such a wonderful writer, a creator of worlds and an intimate friend.

From The Hobbit.

"As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit -- of Bilbo Baggins, that is -- was the fabulous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Took, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbit-like about them, and once in a while members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures. They discreetly disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Tooks were not as respectable as the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer. Not that Belladonna Took 2 ever had any adventures after she became Mrs. Bungo Baggins. Bungo, that was Bilbo's father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under The Hill or over The Hill or across The Water, and there they remained to the end of their days. Still it is probable that Bilbo, her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable father, got something a bit queer in his makeup from the Took side, something that only waited for a chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Bilbo Baggins was grown up, being about fifty years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father, which I have just described for you, until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably."

So true as a principle, children being a blend of parents in differing proportions.

[Maia]

I got into a minor tussle with some white trash in the Folk gang becuz i told my bunk mate that he's the one who stole his New Balance tennis shoes. I snitched on the dude... but i didn't tell the POleece, Maia. Big difference.

Got into a fight in the bathroom with the guy and he summarily realized he couldn't beat me up. I didn't beat his ass as much as i just 'neutralized the threat'. So u know what happens next: i get jumped by the whole gang on the yard. Wanted to avoid that, so i 'checked off', which means i refused to stay in general population. As punishment i was shipped to a max custody prison and put into ICON for eight months. 23 hour lock down and much smaller meals. Solitary confinement inmates don't receive normal portions of shit food. I used to try and hide food from the tray that i could eat later, but the COs threw it away when they shook my cell down.

So you were in prison, then? May I ask why?

[promethean75]

If i tell you, Maia, you may never speak to me again.

Somebody saw my reproductive fluid delivery system appendage, i.e. my... well, they saw my PENIS, Maia. They saw my fuckin penis.

Now if you have even a single clever bone in your body, you'll reply with "well that's not a HUGE matter. I think the punishment was a bit disproportionate. Okay not a 'bit'. Like totally off the wall overkill disproportionate. Somebody should die for this."

[Maia]

I'll start with Tolkien ...

Such a wonderful writer, a creator of worlds and an intimate friend.

From The Hobbit.

"As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit -- of Bilbo Baggins, that is -- was the fabulous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Took, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbit-like about them, and once in a while members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures. They discreetly disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Tooks were not as respectable as the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer. Not that Belladonna Took 2 ever had any adventures after she became Mrs. Bungo Baggins. Bungo, that was Bilbo's father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under The Hill or over The Hill or across The Water, and there they remained to the end of their days. Still it is probable that Bilbo, her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable father, got something a bit queer in his makeup from the Took side, something that only waited for a chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Bilbo Baggins was grown up, being about fifty years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father, which I have just described for you, until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably."

So true as a principle, children being a blend of parents in differing proportions.

I must admit that I've never read the Hobbit, though the Lord of the Rings was my companion through something of a tough time, when I was at school, and helped me a lot, I think. I later read the Silmarillion, and found its evocation of magical worlds of ancient lore truly inspiring. Certainly in part, at least, because it's based on real ancient stories and myths. Definitely a genius at work, there.

[Walker]

Interesting. The Hobbit was the first I read, and years later I read the first chapter again and found it quite funny.

I read the other Middle Earth Books too, a long time ago. I'm sure there's much in them I missed, like I missed a bit of Tolkein's dry wit when young. I read them in quick succession, a bit of binge reading back when I was a reader.

[Maia]

If i tell you, Maia, you may never speak to me again.

Somebody saw my reproductive fluid delivery system appendage, i.e. my... well, they saw my PENIS, Maia. They saw my fuckin penis.

Now if you have even a single clever bone in your body, you'll reply with "well that's not a HUGE matter. I think the punishment was a bit disproportionate. Okay not a 'bit'. Like totally off the wall overkill disproportionate. Somebody should die for this."

Not quite sure how to respond to that, except to say that it surely exposes something deeply unpleasant.

[Walker]

If i tell you, Maia, you may never speak to me again.

Somebody saw my reproductive fluid delivery system appendage, i.e. my... well, they saw my PENIS, Maia. They saw my fuckin penis.

Now if you have even a single clever bone in your body, you'll reply with "well that's not a HUGE matter. I think the punishment was a bit disproportionate. Okay not a 'bit'. Like totally off the wall overkill disproportionate. Somebody should die for this."

Not quite sure how to respond to that, except to say that it surely exposes something deeply unpleasant.

Eric Idle wrote a song about that.

[Walker]

“To the infra-human specimens of this benighted scientific age the ritual and worship connected with the art of healing as practiced at Epidaurus seems like sheer buncombe. In our world the blind lead the blind and the sick go to the sick to be cured. We are making constant progress, but it is a progress which leads to the operating table, to the poor house, to the insane asylum, to the trenches. We have no healers – we have only butchers whose knowledge of anatomy entitles them to a diploma, which in turn entitles them to carve out or amputate our illnesses so that we may carry on in cripple fashion until such time as we are fit for the slaughterhouse. We announce the discovery of this cure and that but make no mention of the new diseases which we have created en route. The medical cult operates very much like the war office – the triumphs which they broadcast are sops thrown out to conceal death and disaster. The medicos, like the military authorities, are helpless; they are waging a hopeless fight from the start. What man wants is peace in order that he may live. Defeating our neighbor doesn’t give peace any more than curing cancer brings health. Man doesn’t begin to live through triumphing over his enemy nor does he begin to acquire health through endless cures. The joy of life comes through peace, which is not static but dynamic. No man can really say that he knows what joy is until he has experienced peace. And without joy there is no life, even if you have a dozen cars, six butlers, a castle, a private chapel and a bomb-proof vault. Our diseases are our attachments, be they habits, ideologies, ideals, principles, possessions, phobias, gods, cults, religions, what you please. Good wages can be a disease just as much as bad wages. Leisure can be just as great a disease as work. Whatever we cling to, even if it be hope or faith, can be the disease which carries us off. Surrender is absolute: if you cling to even the tiniest crumb you nourish the germ which will devour you. As for clinging to God, God long ago abandoned us in order that we might realize the joy of attaining godhood through our own efforts. All this whimpering that is going on in the dark, this insistent, piteous plea for peace which will grow bigger as the pain and the misery increase, where is it to be found? Peace, do people imagine that it is something to cornered, like corn or wheat? Is it something which can be pounded upon and devoured, as with wolves fighting over a carcass? I hear people talking about peace and their faces are clouded with anger or with hatred or with scorn and disdain, with pride and arrogance. There are people who want to fight to bring about peace- the most deluded souls of all. There will be no peace until murder is eliminated from the heart and mind. Murder is the apex of the broad pyramid whose base is the self. That which stands will have to fall. Everything which man has fought for will have to be relinquished before he can begin to live as man. Up till now he has been a sick beast and even his divinity stinks. He is master of many worlds and in his own he is a slave. What rules the world is the heart, not the brain, in every realm our conquests bring only death. We have turned our backs on the one realm wherein freedom lies. At Epidaurus, in the stillness, in the great peace that came over me, I heard the heart of the world beat. I know what the cure is: it is to give up, to relinquish, to surrender, so that our little hearts may beat in unison with the great heart of the world.”

― Henry Miller

[Maia]

Interesting. The Hobbit was the first I read, and years later I read the first chapter again and found it quite funny.

I read the other Middle Earth Books too, a long time ago. I'm sure there's much in them I missed, like I missed a bit of Tolkein's dry wit when young. I read them in quick succession, a bit of binge reading back when I was a reader.

I've also tried dipping into The History of Middle-earth series, published after his death. They're a bit of a mixed bag, but do contain some interesting ideas from his early writings, in which he connected the stories of the elves with English history.