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| Realizing Attractions by Larner | 3 Review(s) |
|---|---|
| Lindelea | Reviewed Chapter: 1 on 3/30/2025 |
| Shoot. "I'm not working on The Long Winter" should have read "I'm now working on The Long Winter". Would you believe I proofread that review four times? (Feeling rather dyslexic today.) | |
| Lindelea | Reviewed Chapter: 1 on 3/30/2025 |
| Hello, dear friend! It is so good to see a new story from you! This part really spoke to me as one of my favourite places is the Oregon Coast, with its rocky cliffs, icy water and unpredictable yet steadily-crashing surf: So, we bring them here first, where the surrounding stone softens the rhythm and strength of the waves and strengthens the desire to be cleansed of remembered fear and anger. I find such healing in storm-watching on the Coast. The very air is invigorating (probably all the ozone generated by the turbulent water), while the pounding waves maintain a steady rhythm, their raw power (mostly) held within constraints, and soothing, somehow, to watch and listen to. Sneaker waves are a danger, of course. I don't walk along the waterline any more since I can no longer sprint to safety ahead of a rogue wave. Come to think of it, a description of life could be framed in terms of wave-watching, the look of the ocean in different weathers, the sudden sneaker waves that seem to come out of nowhere... The personification (or do I mean anthropomorphism?) of the volcanoes is a fascinating viewpoint. Somehow it's comforting to think that even Mount Doom found its peace and completion in the end: As for Orodruin—the malevolence of our late brother tortured the mountain past endurance, until at last with the destruction of his abomination it could shrug off his power over it for good and at last find its peace. And know this—Orodruin rejoiced to know that in its last throes of agony good would come of its ash for those whose destruction and domination its Master had sought. This part reminded me of the aftermath of the Mount Saint Helens eruption. I remember seeing videos of piles of ash resembling snowdrifts on the streets of Spokane, and dire predictions about the impact of the ashfall. (Of course, in my case it came true; a few years later, my mechanic attributed the light dusting of ash we had received to the damage he found to my car's engine.) I think I still have a lovely teacup and saucer made from that ash. We were told that the greatness of the harvests that year was due to the fall of its ash upon the fields of Gondor and elsewhere enriching the soil. Even there in Minas Tirith the ash was gathered by a master glassblower to use in the creation of bowls and cups of unbelievable beauty. In spite of his will to harm, Sauron nevertheless gave us sweeter fruits and more beautiful glassware than he could have imagined. I seem to remember a bumper crop of strawberries in the Shire the Spring after the Travellers' return. Perhaps the ash from Mt Doom's eruption was caught up high in the atmosphere and was blown around the world, all the way to the Shire... Alas, poor Frodo. It seems his healing is incomplete in this version of the outcome. That makes me sad for him. But real life seldom wraps up a life story with a pretty ribbon bow, when I think about it. That may be why I'm such a sucker for a happy (or, at worst, bittersweet) ending and cannot seem to write a story unless I'm working towards an ending that satisfies that need I've become aware of, way down deep inside. I suspect that's the reason why even my gone-but-not-forgotten Frodo sometimes pops into his cousins' dreams to remind and reassure them of the healing he's found there in the West. I know JRRT had his own reasons for it, but it just about killed my enjoyment of his story that Frodo was too damaged to stay in the Shire he loved and had given everything but his life itself to save. (And he would have given his life, as well, if not for Gandalf and the Eagles...) (Also, thanks for the explanation at the end. It's so long since I read the Sil, I had forgotten that "mortals could not live long once they reached the actual shores of Aman, as its air was enriched so by having been breathed by the Valar that Men’s lives would burn out within moments". Nor did I remember the distinctions between Tol Eressëa and Aman and the Undying Lands. I now find myself speculating as to where The Feast where Hobbits and the occasional visiting Maia hang out in Eternity might be located in [maybe/probably not physical] space.) I hope this finds you well. Just to let you know, my plan for your birthday present is to resume posting chapters of Thain starting in mid-April and continuing to the end of the story. I finally finished the draft! :throws confetti: I'm not working on finishing The Long Winter. For some reason, I'm now tempted to shout, "The sky's the limit!", except that it would mix the metaphor. Or something like that. (((hugs))) Lin | |
| shirebound | Reviewed Chapter: 1 on 3/30/2025 |
| Orodruin rejoiced to know that in its last throes of agony good would come of its ash for those whose destruction and domination its Master had sought. I like that. :) You know that I love happy endings, and will imagine a continuance of your thoughtful tale with joy (however brief) for both Frodo and Livwen. | |