So so so good. The bad part of finishing it is that I can't start the next one before the end of the holidays. Or, to be on the safe side of passing my exams, before the end of January. Which sucks big time.
Still, I got to read one hell of a mind fuck, one that I need time to process properly, so perhaps it is better this way. Or that is what I'll be telling myself for the time being.
Marthe - I see in her what most people only see in Lymond - the surface. The anger, bitterness, rough edges. They are so alike, I know there is more, I just don't care
to discover it.
Khaireddin - Give me thy kisses
Jerott - so blind when it matters. He's steadfast and reliable. And predictable, at least.
Dame of Daubtance - I don't like her. Decidedly.
The mystery: TALK BY DOROTHY DUNNETT
Saturday, 30 March 1990
One of the anxieties everybody has about Pawn in Frankincense is the identity (Thank you, Judith) of the two children and especially the child who died. I think I made it clear. I was defiant I make it clear, I may say, when I was writing Pawn in Frankincense. Harvey Ginsberg, who I mentioned , said, "You cannot say which one died," and I said, "Yes, I can." He said "No, you can't." So I didn't. By then I thought: Yes, let me, I think, made it clear. If I haven't, I'm not making it any clearer.
The whole of the Lymond series is about identity; it is about character; it is about heritage; and, yes, it is about the future. It says, if it says anything at all, that we are what we are and what we make of ourselves and what we have to hand on to future. Good and bad stock can produce indiscriminately good and bad offspring, and our environment can ruin what was potentially good. There is no place for prejudice. More than that I'm not going to spell out.