![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Dec. 29th, 2010
From ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
magnetic_pole, Marginalia (A Story About Stories), which I found to be lovely and evocative. A brief quote:
In the village of Arabel's Raven in Oxfordshire, just a short walk from the train station, there is an overgrown private garden off the high street that is guarded by a rusted gate. The gate looks as if it hasn't been opened in decades, and it hasn't been--not by Muggles, at least. But if you are fortunate enough to have a wand, you can tap it lightly on the lock, open the gate, push past the vines and rose bushes, and walk though the garden, until you find yourself at the intersection of two narrow streets lined with ancient, half-timbered buildings. The wizarding village of Arabel's Raven isn't much to speak of, just a few shops, houses, and a pub, all hidden behind opaque glass panes and a thick layer of dust. But at the end of the high street, where you might expect to find the spires of a church or a cathedral, there is a second rusty iron gate leading into another overgrown garden. Every witch and wizard in Britain knows what lies beyond: a building known simply as the Library.
No one knows exactly how old the Library is, but legend has it that its oldest books once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw herself. The Library’s gargoyles jeered at Nicholas Flamel when he first visited; its dragon genealogies are the lengthiest and most complete in the world. Its shelves hold books detailing every known spell and curse, encyclopedias of magical plants and creatures, treatises on magical ailments and their cures, histories of wars and rebellions, and, last but not least, all the most noble tales of magical courage and wisdom and love.
This is not one of those stories. Some would say that this is a story of a desecration; others would say it is a story about madness. The Ministry would deem the damage done a crime worthy of a sojourn in Azkaban. Having witnessed the event itself, however, I have chosen to remain silent, despite a vow that my family and I have taken to protect the Library and its contents. You shall tell me, at the conclusion of my story, whether you think I have made the right choice.
magnetic_pole, Marginalia (A Story About Stories), which I found to be lovely and evocative. A brief quote: In the village of Arabel's Raven in Oxfordshire, just a short walk from the train station, there is an overgrown private garden off the high street that is guarded by a rusted gate. The gate looks as if it hasn't been opened in decades, and it hasn't been--not by Muggles, at least. But if you are fortunate enough to have a wand, you can tap it lightly on the lock, open the gate, push past the vines and rose bushes, and walk though the garden, until you find yourself at the intersection of two narrow streets lined with ancient, half-timbered buildings. The wizarding village of Arabel's Raven isn't much to speak of, just a few shops, houses, and a pub, all hidden behind opaque glass panes and a thick layer of dust. But at the end of the high street, where you might expect to find the spires of a church or a cathedral, there is a second rusty iron gate leading into another overgrown garden. Every witch and wizard in Britain knows what lies beyond: a building known simply as the Library.
No one knows exactly how old the Library is, but legend has it that its oldest books once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw herself. The Library’s gargoyles jeered at Nicholas Flamel when he first visited; its dragon genealogies are the lengthiest and most complete in the world. Its shelves hold books detailing every known spell and curse, encyclopedias of magical plants and creatures, treatises on magical ailments and their cures, histories of wars and rebellions, and, last but not least, all the most noble tales of magical courage and wisdom and love.
This is not one of those stories. Some would say that this is a story of a desecration; others would say it is a story about madness. The Ministry would deem the damage done a crime worthy of a sojourn in Azkaban. Having witnessed the event itself, however, I have chosen to remain silent, despite a vow that my family and I have taken to protect the Library and its contents. You shall tell me, at the conclusion of my story, whether you think I have made the right choice.
(no subject)
Dec. 29th, 2010 02:16 pmVia andrewducker: Happiness is a laser beam-shooting robot riding a unicorn.
andrewducker: Happiness is a laser beam-shooting robot riding a unicorn.(no subject)
Dec. 29th, 2010 04:01 pmI'd started one of those "year in review" memes, but after rewriting to the brink of madness, I've boiled it down to: "Shit happened; didn't die."
What're y'all doing for New Year's?
What're y'all doing for New Year's?